Lessons Learned

Next week, I will have been teaching and coaching my first group for exactly one year – exciting times. I thought it might be a good idea to go back and share what I feel I have learned from teaching these new improvisers. These are my lessons learned, and maybe if I had read this article this time last year, things would have been easier, but there's no reason others can't learn from this – experience comes cheaper second hand. Coaching, directing, and teaching are all peculiar skills for the improviser, in that there isn't a class to learn it from, and even most improv books only dedicate a single chapter or part of a chapter to the subject. Even Spolin's fantastic book is more concerned with learning the craft with the end game being putting on a scripted play of some sort. (And teaching children. Are improvisers like children? Discuss.) Instead, I feel like this sub-artform is a melange of what we have seen other people do and sheer terror, or to paraphrase Astronaut Jon McBride: a director who doesn't have any fear probably isn't operating his troupe to its maximum.

Be prepared for disappointment – unless you are fortunate enough to operate a group that is sponsored by a theater, you won't have a regular practice or performance space. Despite all attempts to secure said space, it will always fall through. Practices will be inconsistent in the beginning, schedules will get in the way, practice spaces will be lost and replaced with who knows what, so just be prepared to face the inevitable that things will never go as planned, or even an approximation of that.

Set goals and objectives – this is for two reasons: one, without anything to measure against, you can't know how you're doing. Attempting to compare your group to any other group is tragically misguided, because no two groups are alike, and those variables can never be accounted for. Second, as the director, you need to have good solid answers to questions. “I don't know” is acceptable (provided you can come up with an answer after a little research), but the director is the steady hand that guides the group in a single direction. Instead, decide what you want to see, and keep nudging the group to that destination. Give options, and you might as well not even be there. Also, if you don't set goals, how will you be disappointed when you don't make them? (see #1)

Try and find a few people you like – improv is a team sport, and a social activity, and you're going to have to hang around these people at least once a week for a few hours. This is the great thing about starting your own group outside of any sponsorship – you don't have to keep people you don't like, and you shouldn't.

Let the reins out a little bit – so much of improv is figuring these things out for yourself; there are a whole bunch of things that you just can't teach, and you just have to work the puzzle out on your own so that you can see how it fits together. The director should never be “mom”, and hopefully one day they'll be able to run off on their own.

You are responsible – I don't mean this in the sense of “show up on time, prepared”; (you should be doing that anyway). What I more mean is that you are Dr. Frankenstein, and this is your monster – be prepared to deal with your creation. After you've set your goals, given your objectives, and let out the reins, don't be surprised to find that you've created exactly what you wanted, and maybe you wanted things a little different than what you ended up with. Ah, the hubris. Sadly, the director is responsible, and you get what you ask for.

Some people can't be saved – Hi, Hubris again. Remember me? We like to come in thinking that we'll be cowboys and astronauts, taming the wild frontiers, breaking new ground, and making every person in the group an integral and talented member of a well oiled and imminently watchable team. Sadly, you can only help the people who want to be helped. Focus on the people asking you for help, and hope the other ones will come around.

And would I do it again? Oh, hell yeah.