Breathe

This weekend I participated in two workshops graciously hosted by The Kanas City Improv Company and taught by Jake Schneider of The Reckoning, a troupe that performs regularly at Chicago's iO Theatre (formerly known as the Improv Olympic).  Uh yup!  We did some scene work and played with the JTS Brown format.  I very much enjoyed myself at these workshops and I worked with a group of improvisors I don't normally spend improv time with.  I made some new friends, met new people, said hello to old friends and met a brand new improvisor.  (AND SHE'S A GIRL!)  I think there were about 20 people total in the group.

Kansas City Improv: The biggest little community in the world.



At the beginning of the workshops, Jake asked us to have a piece of paper handy to take notes on throughout the workshop.  As I was sans pen (for fear it would stab me in the leg in my pocket and would not stay in my hair throughout all of my movement) I ended up only writing one note:

"Breathe"

Breathing is something we forget to do so often.  Breathing is what carries oxygen to our brains.  Breathing lets us live.  Ever heard the phrase "the breath of life"?  Yeah, that's what Jake asked us, too.  Breathe life into your scene.

Here is why breathing at the top of, and throughout, an improv scene is so important to me:

I have anxiety.

At times my anxiety can be tremendous and completely overwhelming.  It can distract me from work, it can take me away from the people I love.  It can lead to depression.  It scares the shit out of me.  That statement in itself is anxiety.  I had extreme stage fright during the workshop when it came to monologuing.  
     (In improv, an opening monologue is typically a true story about yourself, or something that has happened in your life.  It's easier on you and on the audience if you don't try to make something up and be funny.  Just be.  Ever wonder why there's an entire book called Truth in Comedy, written by Del Close, Charna Halpern and Kim Johnson?  Ever wonder why it's subtitled "the manual for improvisation"?  Duh.)

But I digress.

I was so terrified about the idea of telling a true story.  I didn't even have to make it up.  A TRUE STORY.  As luck would have it, I was the last person to practice an opening monologue for the class.  My suggestion was "hanky".  I  was thrown off.  I hesitated.  My first thoughts were: how the hell am I going to tell a story about hankies?

I took a breath.

When I was on stage, so terrified, so in my head and trying so hard to think of what the hell to say about "hankies", I stopped.  I took a breath.  There's something amazing about focusing on your breathing that snaps you out of your head.  I took a deep breath, repeated the word "hanky", and out of nowhere I proceeded to tell the entire class about how I gag every time I try to blow my nose and subsequently have conditioned myself to never do it.  The end.

In that moment I learned that all the time I could spend freaking out I could also spend taking a breath.  That breath can release you from the prison of your overworked mind.  It'll let you relax and stop thinking about how the hell you're going to do something and then you'll just do it.  That's what improv is all about.  Doing something.  ANYTHING.

A great thing about improv that differs from stand-up is that you have someone there with you.  Be it just your duo partner or a cast of 8 other people, you always have someone to support you.  If you take a breath and look into your partner's eyes, you've already told them "I am here, I am focused and I am ready to support you."  That right there is 90% of improv.  (The other 10% being doing something, ANYTHING.)

That time you take might seem like a million years to you.  You're under the lights.  You're on stage by yourself trying to respond to this monologue topic.  You're entering the scene to support your partner, which is probably only a 5-foot walk.  The lights have come up from a blackout and there you are.  You're running on stage to begin the opening of your show.  To you, it feels like a century.  To the audience, it's a split second.  I know as an audience member, I'd rather see an improvisor take their time (and by time I mean 2 seconds to inhale and exhale) than watch them freak out and flounder because they're so nervous.

Something else I learned:

The audience is always rooting for you.

As an improvisor, you are creating and telling stories.  You're making it up as you go and the audience wants to see you succeed because they want to be entertained and they want to laugh with you.  They want to see your character's honest reactions.  They want to see what your character wants and they want to watch that journey.  The audience does not care about your witty quips.  If that's all they wanted, they'd be at a stand-up show.  So don't let the pressure to be funny get into your head.  Just relax, be yourself and BREATHE.  You'll be more focused and in the end you'll be better off.

So take that second and breathe.  Breathe life into your scene, into your character.  Allow yourself the time to inhale and exhale like our bodies require.  I promise, that second you take is completely worth it.