I’m not going to be satisfied with performing once a week. I’d like to perform six nights a week, and on my night off, I’d like to perform. I don’t want to be in four or five groups to accomplish this, although in the short term, I may do just that. I’d rather work with one ensemble and do one main show.

I’d like to rehearse often. I’d like to rehearse three or four times a week, especially at first. But even after the show opens, I’d like to rehearse more than weekly and try new things. I’d like to identify where we can push ourselves to be better and smarter and more interesting. I’d like to tape the shows and review them later, looking for ways to improve our craft. I’d like to borrow great ideas from other types of theater and art and bring them into our shows. I’d like to work harder than I’ve ever worked before.

In the near future, I’ll be returning to Chicago and dipping my feet into the improv pool again. I’ll be performing where I can and perhaps teaching here and there. But I’ll also be cornering people in bars and telling them my ideas and looking for people who share my desire to be a part of a group that works as hard as I’d like to work. I’ll be visiting New York and maybe LA. I’ll be traveling to a few improv festivals and interviewing more teachers and directors for my podcast. I’ll probably do some projects along the way which approach my ideal, where we rehearse in a concentrated fashion and perform multiple times a week. It might take me a while before I can put all the pieces in place, but barring some amazing opportunity which takes me down a different path or some unforeseen tragedy which interferes with my plans, this will happen.

Why write about this? Why put this in my blog? Because, I’m curious whether there are enough good performers out there who could commit themselves for a year or two or three to making this happen. I think you might be out there. I just haven’t found you yet.

And then I began to teach. I liked teaching, a lot. I learned much about how to improvise when I started to coach it and then later when I taught it. There is something powerful about having to think deeply enough about something that you have to explain it to someone else. Still, during these first couple of years in Chicago as a teacher, I performed as much or more than I taught. I had some balance and I continued to grow as a performer.

When I moved to New York, this began to change. Once there, I had to worry more about how I was going to pay the bills. I really didn’t want to take a day job, but that meant I had to teach a lot more and coach more than I had in Chicago. I started teaching four classes a week. I did perform, but not as much as I would have liked. I got myself on a Harold team, but instead of playing weekly, like I had in Chicago, we played every other week, sometimes every third week. I put together shows, but those would only last for a few months. I probably spent at least six hours teaching or coaching for each hour spent performing. Even if my goal was to be a great teacher, this was not a good setup. Like anything else, being a great teacher requires that you recharge often. By the end, I did not feel recharged at all.

When I left New York, I had become a teacher. I was a pretty good one, but in my seven years there, I only became a marginally better performer. My confidence as a performer had waned and my love for performing had definitely bottomed out. This is no surprise. I spent all my energy teaching (and running the school where I taught), and I got better at it. It wasn’t that, “Those who can, do. And those who can’t, teach.” It’s more like, “You become what you do.” I taught, so I became a teacher.

In the years since, when I’ve mostly been away from the theater, I realize that this was a mistake. Although I love teaching, my first love is performing, and my second love is directing. I’m not sure teaching is even third on that list. It might be fourth or fifth, if I’m honest. I love it, but it’s just not my highest priority. I want to be the best performer I can be, and that will mean that I’ll have to devote the lion’s share of my energy to performing. I want to improvise and I want to act and I want to develop original theater as a performer, writer and director. There’s no secret to getting better at these things, except that you must do whatever it is you want to master. I let myself get distracted from that in NYC.

Mom and me

Still, she was engaged with us on other levels. We could understand how she was feeling. She seemed to recognize us and her mood often improved a little when she interacted with one of us kids or with one of the many wonderful aids who helped take care of her. If you had gotten a cut or a bruise since your last visit, she might touch that part of your body. She was a nurse after all, she needed to care for people.

So what does this have to do with comedy? Well there were very few things that kept her attention in these last stages. In the earlier stages we had done crafts and puzzles and encouraged her to draw things. She couldn’t do any of these things after a while and one of the few things that seemed to capture her attention was television. She had her soaps that she always wanted to see and when the soaps were done, we would switch the channel to Hallmark and watch Little House on the Prairie or Mash.

One afternoon, they were running episodes of I Love Lucy instead of Mash and mom did something that she hadn’t done in some weeks, she laughed. It was a distinct and clear giggle. And it wasn’t some random event. She was clearly responding and laughing at the right moments. She got it and thought it was funny. Perhaps she couldn’t understand the words really, but some part of her brain still did get comedy. She wouldn’t be able to explain what just happened on the TV screen, but she knew it was funny.

After that day, my sister started buying all the DVD sets of I Love Lucy and watching it with mom became a frequent activity. Mom never got tired of it. Over time even her laughter became a little muted, but it never failed to elicit some giggles from her. I’m sure it gave her pleasure when few other things could.

So if you ever find yourself taking care of someone with dementia, I’d rent a DVD of I Love Lucy and give it a try. You might be surprised how much your loved one enjoys it. Let me know if it works for you.

And if you do comedy, remember how important it is to laugh. When most pleasures in life fail you, laughter can still break through.

I uploaded another episode of my improv podcast today. This week’s guest is Jimmy Carrane. We talk about grounded scenework, the third choice, reality transaction scenes, commitment, silent scenes, side coaching and group therapy.

I’ve known Jimmy for a long time and known of him even longer. He was a founding member of Jazz Freddy, a show which amazed and inspired me as a young improvisor in the early ’90s. Later we got a chance to work together on Naked a show that Rob Mello directed and starring Jimmy and Stephnie Weir. I produced the show and was the assistant director. I was extremely proud of Naked when we put it up. The idea of the show was simple, two characters, one hour, one scene. It pushed the performers to be grounded and real in a way that few shows had before. Jimmy and Stephnie rose to the occasion again and again during the run.

If you’d like to take a workshop from Jimmy, his email address is at the end of the episode. You might also check out his Facebook page, Jimmy Carrane Improv. Also, Jimmy is the co-author of Improvising Better: A Guide for the Working Improviser with Liz Allen, one of the most useful books on improv that I’ve ever read.

Finally, episode #11 of the Improv Resource Center Podcast is ready and uploaded! Will Hines and John Frusciante from the UCB Theatre in New York discuss the game, improv training simulators, an improv sabbath and things to steal from Ian Roberts.

Will and John host the UCB Theatre Podcast and teach at the UCB Training Center.

• Where: Theatre Momentum Studio at 1800 W. Cornelia Avenue
• Dates: July 10, 17, 24, 31
• When: Noon to 4pm (class is noon to 2:45 with a bonus practice hour from 3 to 4).
• Cost: $89, $59 if you sign up and pay before July 4th.
• For intermediate and advanced improv students. Limit 14 students.

New Apps for Your Improv Scenes

In this four week workshop, we will download some new apps that you can use in the middle of any scene to make it better. These techniques will make your so-so scenes good and your good scenes great. You’ll learn to better connect with your scene partner by noticing their emotions and behavior and by reacting from your gut. You’ll also learn a variety of tools to add texture, detail and spontaneity to your scenes.

How the Class Will Work:

The regular class meets from noon to 2:45pm each Saturday. There is a bonus practice hour immediately following the class from 3 to 4pm. The bonus hour is a chance for you to do as many scenes as we can pack into an hour, so that you can practice what you have learned. I’ll be playing along with you, and I’ll be videotaping the scenes so that I can review them later and send you notes via email after the class.

How to Register

Email me at ircmullaney [at] gmail.com and tell me that you’d like to take the class. In your email tell me:

• Name
• Phone number
• Email address
• Your preference to pay (paypal or a check). I’ll send you payment instructions.
• A brief explanation of your experience.

Teacher Bio

Kevin Mullaney is the former Artistic Director of the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in NYC and the former Managing Director of the Del Close Marathon. He also oversaw the UCB Training Center’s improv classes where he taught for 8 years. He directed numerous shows at the UCB including Slow Waltz Around Rage Mountain, Tracers and Individually Wrapped. In Chicago, he performed with many groups at iO including the house team Frank Booth. He founded and directed the iO Road Show and taught for the iO training center.

IRC Podcast image

However, there was a problem. One of the things that I assumed it would handle was the image that you see on your iPod while it is playing. When you add a new podcast to the RSS stream, the script requires you to assign an image for iTunes. And when you search for the podcast on iTunes, you do see an image for the show. But that was not enough to get the image on my iPod. When you listen to the first 10 episodes of my podcast, you won’t see an image on your iPod.

I finally decided to research it today. The solution is pretty simple. You have to embed the image into the mp3 file before you upload it to your website. As far as I know, you must use iTunes to add the artwork. First you create the image using Photoshop or GIMP. It should be a square image. Mine is a 300 x 300 pixel jpg, the same size you use for the iTunes store image. Once you have the image, you should:

1. Open iTunes on your computer.
2. Add/import the mp3 file to iTunes library.
3. Right click on the mp3 in iTunes and choose Get Info.
4. Click on the Artwork tab and add the image.

Now the mp3 file on your hard drive is ready to upload to your website and be added to your RSS feed.

If you want some more detailed instructions with images, you can look at the original post where I found the solution.

The two students stop their scene and stare at the floor in front of them, waiting for their notes. They know that their scene wasn’t good. It was a frustrating scene to perform. They know they made lots of mistakes, although they wouldn’t be able to name them if asked.

“Well, there were a lot of problems in that scene,” the teacher begins. “You two weren’t on the same page. Steve, you kept trying to make the scene about your ESP powers. It’s ironic since you weren’t listening. And Carol, you kept talking about your problems at the office. Those people aren’t in the scene, why are you talking about them?”

The notes continue for some time as the teacher lists several more mistakes. You can hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. These are all notes she has given before. The two students feel awful, almost ashamed, and the rest of the class shifts awkwardly in their seats. The only happy thought among them is that it’s not them who are getting dressed down.

Finally the teacher asks them to try again. She gets a new suggestion of a location and has the same two students improvise a scene. This time they aren’t making the same mistakes, but that is because they don’t seem to be making any decisions at all. They are in their head, the scene is stilted, their play overly cautious.

“And scene!” The teacher stops it again and gives them even more notes.

Negative Notes

I would think that most improvisors can relate to this scenario. We have all been in classes or workshops where the teacher has taken the time to point out the flaws in our scenework. It doesn’t feel great when it’s happening. Sometimes, we feel like we have learned something from it, sometimes it’s just a negative memory. I certainly have my share of these kinds of memories, both as a student and a teacher.

The last time I was in Del‘s class was one of those nights. He stopped every scene I was in. Over and over he told me that I wasn’t agreeing with my scene partner. It was a tough night. At the time, I didn’t quite know what he was getting at. I thought I was agreeing. I certainly wasn’t arguing. I think now that I understand what he was trying to tell me. I think I have pulled a positive nugget from that negative experience to help me. But honestly, I’m still not sure that I got his point.

So, is this the best way learn? When we make a mistake, is it best to have that mistake compounded by harsh notes from a disappointed teacher? I’m not sure to be honest. The negative feelings associated with that note can go a long way to carving it into our brain and into shaping our future choices. Like a child not wanting to get burned, our gut tells us to avoid doing the thing that got such a negative response in the past. We typically want the approval of those who are giving us notes, so if the negative note is correct, perhaps it can help guide us to avoid similar mistakes in the future. However, there’s something about it that just doesn’t feel right to me.

Positive Notes

One alternative comes to mind immediately. We might want to dwell on positive notes instead. When a student does something well, the teacher should offer generous praise for that specific good choice that the student made. This probably does not happen enough in improv classes. I’m guessing that the majority of notes that I’ve given over the years have been negative ones. My hunch is that specific positive notes are probably more effective than negative ones.

I’m not talking about empty flattery, that is no help and it may actually hurt the student. Some teachers cover their students with blankets of praise. But it does not help to tell students that they are “good” and “funny” without telling them what precisely they are doing so well. What choices did they make that were right and why? Tell them that, and you will help them.

Better Negative Notes

So should we give up on negative notes? I don’t think so. Negative notes serve a purpose. If a scene is bad, and if the note giver understands why the scene is bad, he or she should give that note. But why does it have to make everyone feel so bad? Perhaps there is a better way to give a note.

It starts with priming the students for negative notes. Explain to them that you want them to play as if no one is giving them notes. You want them to make whatever choice occurs to them in the moment. You want them to play from their gut and react to what is going on and to silence that inner critic while they perform.

Next, tell them that they will make mistakes, lots and lots of mistakes. That it’s ok to make mistakes. It gives us an opportunity to learn. And that if they can leave a class with one or two very specific notes about things they actually can change or work on, they should feel happy and optimistic, not depressed.

Then you have to change how you actually give the note. When you spot a mistake, be upbeat about it. Be excited that you have an opportunity to give them a constructive note. When possible, give them a proactive alternative to their choice. Don’t just tell them to not ask questions, tell them to make statements that establish information instead. Mostly, it’s about tone though. Turn mistakes into opportunities. Be upbeat when you give them a note and be specific. And most of all, don’t keep them up on stage for a long time while you are giving them the note. Be brief, and then ask them to try again or sit down.

More Practice, Less Notes

What if students keep making the same mistake over and over? Find or create some exercises which specifically target that problem and use that exercise until they no longer make that mistake (this might be something you spend only part of your time on, spread over several classes). Treat it as a fun drill, and work on it until it becomes second nature. Giving a student a note over and over again is not the most effective way to learn something. Instead, they need to practice the right way to do something.

By the way, I was listening to Improvised New York today. They were interviewing Armando Diaz from the Magnet Theater and he put it this way:

It doesn’t do you any good if I give you a long lecture on shooting a basket; you shoot a basket; you miss; and then I give you another lecture on it.

Kurt is a teacher and performer at the People’s Improv Theater. He can be seen performing with Big Black Car and The Faculty. He is also a stand up comedian and performs at various venues around NYC. Several of his shows have appeared at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. He has also appeared at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe with his comedy partner, Kristen Schaal.

This interview was a little different than the others, because we ended up talking a lot about what it’s like to run the business of a small improv theater. I really like how Lillie talks about her performers. It’s obvious that she has a lot of respect for her performers and trusts them in ways that not all improv directors do. It’s not surprising that several years after she first held auditions, seventeen of her first hires still work for her.