Hi Friends,
I can’t stress enough how much I practice improv for the play, the camaraderie, the mental and creative exercise, with zero intention to “get good” for an audience. In fact, until a couple of years ago (and this was years in to my improv practice) I dreaded every show, because I got so scared, nervous, and uncomfortable under the pressure of the audience. I didn’t do improv with the goal to be onstage. I did it to show up and have fun with my friends. Doing shows suggested to me that my art was for someone else, and I felt the pressure of providing them with solid entertainment, which I believe they deserved by paying. I also felt nervous improvising in new places – were they going to judge how funny or solid my scene was, because a good product is the group goal?
By the way, that’s totally fine if someone wants the goal of a great product or performance. Of course. That has a ton of value. I want to see highly produced and practiced products, that’s part of my enjoyment and appreciation of life. It’s just not the primary focus for anyone coming to try improv here.
While audio troupes featured here work on refining the art of storytelling, which includes a partial focus on audience captivation, at the core of practice within Introverted Improvisers, we don’t worry about an outcome of a funny game or strong scene; instead we practice an improv skill, which more broadly translates to life skills (and often cognitive improvement!). We have listening and grounding exercises, layers to be added to characters and relationships, or even simple “puzzles” to incorporate into a scene. Imagine having a conversation where you can only say five words at a time. Imagine a conversation where you have to wait three seconds before you answer. Imagine having a conversation, only to try to replay it again exactly as before. Imagine having a conversation, only to replay it as Nosferatu. This could absolutely all result in hilarity, but we don’t try to make it happen, we just try to honor whatever our imagination brings us, even if Nosferatu can’t say a word because he’s a piece of dried leather, or dissolves into a pile of dust, incinerated by the sun.
Improv exercises analysis, listening, the imagination, and the trust in the unknown. That’s what we practice here.
