What if I don't do that?

There are some questions I get a lot, and rather than trying to re-explain what my thinking every single time, and also just for clarity, I've decided to just write a post about it. If you're just reading this because, that's cool, but otherwise, you're probably here because I pointed you here. Earlier this year, I was teaching a decon workshop to the mainstage ensemble at the Bridge Improv Theater in Arizona, when after class one of the performers approached me and asked essentially "what if, instead of doing what you just taught us, I did something else?" Now I'll preface (midface?) this by saying the deconstruction is a bulky form, and the variant I consider "most familiar" (at least to me) is probably the most complicated version of it. It's not "hard", but if Harold is math, then Decon is calculus (and JTS Brown is probably like Trigonometry). It's entirely teachable and learnable, and once you see how it all fits together and have a team that is cognizant of the rules, it's easy (or at least can become conversationally a second language), but getting over the initial learning curve and managing the "what the hell comes next" in the beginning is challenging. (This is also not meant to pick on that player, whose work I really enjoyed - I have, in fact, gotten this question two dozen times from two dozen improvisers, especially when introducing a novel form.) Decon "calls" for specific kinds of scenes at different times - this is for energetic, thematic, and dynamic reasons; there isn't anything universally intrisic about that, it's more a regulatory decision previously made, refined, and codified by the people who discovered and established the form particulars (mostly the legendary iO team The Family, but also Miles Stroth and Brian O'Connell of the Pack Theater). As with many things we tackle as humans, the "rules" were made to describe what's already happening, and in improv, it's to establish a common language and manner of play for a cast. "No fair tennis without a net", as Kurt Vonnegut put it, and removing some of the variables increases the chance for success in a scene. Of course, the form I've directed for 2 years isn't the "only way" of playing it, and isn't even the first version I learned, and because the form is complex, minor to major variants, as well as just plain "simplified" ways of playing it exist too, and in some areas, may even be the predominant subspecies of the form. There's certainly nothing "wrong" about that, in the same way that speaking English with a Southern accent is not "wrong" compared to a New York accent. This may ultimately be a long way of saying "there's really not an improv police (though some people are self-deputized)" and there certainly isn't an "improv district attorney" to actually prosecute you. The form I'm teaching (or directing) is a glidepath, there is no "woe to whom falleth away", only a higher hit rate if you stay on it. Now an aside from a directing standpoint, if you are on a team I'm directing, I expect you to follow the glidepath *almost* universally. When all else fails, the form is usually the last thing to fail. I want shows I'm directing to look and feel a certain way, so I expect you to bend to the direction. If you're reading this and you only took a class from me (or from anyone, I won't judge), or you've stumbled here after reading every other improv text in existence (was it worth it?), know that if you choose to do something else, that's between you, your team, and your director. The audience only modestly factors in, because they won't really know what they're supposed to be seeing anyway. (I once watched a decon crew DOC had directed, and I really lost track of where in the form they were - afterwards I asked him, "did you change the form? I was lost", to which he replied "I don't think they knew where they were either". Bill Arnett always defaults to an audience experience as the ultimate arbiter, and if the audience enjoys it, then we can call it successful. We get the pleasure of perhaps surprising them with something they didn't know they'd like, delivering the goods they came for, or dazzling them in execution, but they really are the final (and plurality) vote. If you deviate and it works, congrats. But if it doesn't, or you find yourself thinking "I just want to do something different because", then I really must wonder why you're trying to do a decon (or whatever) in the first place. Improv carries with it great power, to do pretty much anything we can think of, but as the well trod saying goes, we have an equivalent amount of responsibilty for the choices that we make. Ultimately, when it comes to working with a group, we only do favors to our team when we make choices that are intended to be easy to follow. A very seasoned team can get by with curveballs, but why would you want to intentionally confuse the people you are on stage with?