Pam Victor

improviser*comedian*author* journalist*teacher*nice person* www.pamvictor.com

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Saying "No" To Offensive Things

“Improv question! Do you have any advice for if someone makes an offer you don’t agree with on a personal level (for example sexist, racist, offensive, in poor taste, etc), how to accept it and build on it and move the scene forward in a positive way supporting the improviser and keeping the fun going while also keeping integrity and not necessarily agreeing with or implying you condone/accept the nasty thing itself?”

I think this is a really interesting question so I’m going to talk forever about it. Spoiler: My answer is that you should trust your gut and know it’s okay to not do the thing you don’t want to do.

A slightly more advanced answer is: trust your gut and push back, but say WHY you don’t want to do the thing and then stay open to discussing it more, in character, for the sake of the scene.

I believe “accept the offer” means “tell me what your character truly thinks of this and why,” not “you have to do this now.” 

But let’s use many examples and get into this, it’s a common and tricky thing.

Keep reading

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Lovely, thoughtful answer to a persistent question. 

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Wonder how to find your passion? Find out what improv advises on this silly, one minute video.

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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTd82Bj95fk)

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Our voice tends to be loud, and aggressive, but it’s OUR voice, that’s for sure.  It’s taken a long time to find it, and we’re still refining it, but like Craig Cackowski says, that’s the key to success.  Figure out what you have to say, and how you say it best, and things can only improve from there. Photo by Michael Astrauskas (natch), quote is from this interview by pamvictor: http://pamvictor.blogspot.com/2013/07/geeking-out-withcraig-cackowski-part-one.html

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Our show #BTL requires a lot more #work than it would seem–yes, it’s largely improvised, but we pour a lot of time into creating the framework that lets the #improv portions flourish. If we don’t have fun doing it, though, what’s the point? Photo of course by Michael Astrauskas, quote from this pamvictor interview: http://pamvictor.blogspot.com/2012/05/geeking-out-withsusan-messing-part-two.html?m=1

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Another little nugget from The TJ & Dave Book.

http://pamvictor.blogspot.com/2015/05/scrumptious-improv-quotes-tj-dave-book_8.html

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The Zen of Improv: Letting Go of the Judgmental Bitch

by Pam Victor

[The Zen of Improv is a series of articles about  the mind-expanding, groovy side of improvisation and other hippy shit.

You can find all the pieces here. This piece can be found with photos here.]

I was a super judgmental bitch during the first ten years I improvised. I judged my teammates and myself with equal vigor. Though I thought I was judging us in order to assess our work and get us to a more evolved place, ultimately my judgment was not always helpful to achieving that goal. I tried not to be such a judgmental bitch, but it’s really hard for me to let go. Until the day Charna Halpern, co-founder of iO Theater, screwed my head on a little tighter …

CHARNA: Who wants to work with an asshole who says, “NO, my idea is better”?

PAM: But, c'mon Charna. We don't all work with Brian Stack and [Kevin] Dorff. Chances are, we're going to play with some duds now and then. It's hard to imagine them as geniuses.

CHARNA: JUDGEMENT!!!!

Charna Halpern

PAM: Hahaha. Yes. I know. It's my biggest flaw on stage. And I'm my own worst judge too. (I'm working on it!)

CHARNA: Look at someone like TJ [Jagodowski.] I’ve seen him take people from the audience and play with them. Tara DeFrancisco takes brand new students who have no skills at all and makes them brilliant. Everything is used and everything works. “Judge not lest ye be judged.” (Oops, God just took over the keyboard for a second. I apologize.)

And even if someone isn’t brilliant that night, even if someone comes up with a lame idea by accident because they are totally blocked, let's not forget we also get laughs by agreement. So when the other player takes that lame idea and agrees - and commits to using it - the audience howls ...

PAM: … My next question is, what is the interplay between judgment and assessment? We are not supposed to judge ourselves or others on stage, but does that extend to after the show too? What role does assessment play, of our own work and the work of others, in improv?

CHARNA: I definitely think folks can and should talk after a show to assess what went well and what went wrong. Absolutely. But keep in mind, it’s all in the semantics. You can say something to let someone know what you meant to do and not come off ACCUSATORY. It’s important to talk about what worked and what didn’t work and why, so you can work on the problem next time.

From “Geeking Out with…Charna Halpern (Part Two)”

I can now see why judgment is the enemy of improvisation. If I’m judging the scene, I’m not in it.  If I’m judging the scene, I’m not helping my scene partners. If I’m judging the scene, I’m not listening to the show. If I’m judging the scene, I’m missing opportunities to discover moments of magic and majesty.

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

– Mother Teresa

The same applies to life, of course. If we judge our work while we’re working, we’re not really working, are we? If we believe that we buy the Evil Mind Meanies' catchphrase of "I suck/you suck/he sucks/she sucks/we suck/they suck," we’re failing before we’ve even given it a fair shot. I’ve seen a lot of people cut themselves off at the knees by buying into the Evil Mind Meanies' bullshit, and then giving up or self-sabotaging their efforts in some sadly validating attempt to prove that they really do suck after all and they’re not deserving of success. "I was right! I suck!" You guys, I have to tell you something: THE EVIL MIND MEANIES ARE BIG, FUCKING, LIAR-LIAR-PANTS-ON-FIRE, STUPIDHEAD LIARS!

(The previous was not a quote from Mother Teresa, by the way. Just needed to clarify that point.)

Even if you choose to believe that you are not worthy of success and unlimited joy (Though I think you are!!! You so are!!!), don’t you think it’s worth at least giving it a fair shot? Sure, you risk failure/humiliation/lots o’ crappy stuff; but if you don’t even really give it a fair shot, you’re already failing/humiliating yourself/sitting in a lots o' crappy stuff stew of your own making. Plus as I mentioned in the last post on non-judgment, we don’t know until the show (or life) is over if something really was a “failure.” If a shitty moment leads to a positive one, is it really a failure?

So what's a gal to do when those Evil Mind Meanies start up their “I suck, you suck, we suck, they suck” chorus? It is my understanding that Zen thinking would suggest that I open my eyes (and ears and heart) and notice the moment I’m in.

In Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki wrote, “Our practice cannot be perfect, but without being discouraged by this, we should continue it. This is the secret of practice.” From what I gather by applying his writings to improvisation, it seems that by always judging and trying to “get better” during my Judgmental Bitch Decade, I always was working towards some goal ahead and living in the future. Once I succeeded in attaining that goal, I would just set another one - but never succeeding to live in the present moment. “Because your attainment is always ahead, you will always be sacrificing yourself now for some ideal in the future. You end up with nothing.” Suzuki counsels, “So as long as you continue your practice, you are quite safe … “

And Tina Fey, Queen Goddess of Comedy, is said to have said, “Confidence is 10% hard work and 90% delusion.” Fake it until you make it, bitches. Instead of buying into the Evil Mind Meanies' song of suckitude, believe the delusion that you're capable of ANYTHING. Or better yet, I suspect I’m not supposed to delude myself into believing that I don’t suck, but just let go of the judgmental bitch mind all together. (My next book will be called Zen Mind, Judgmental Bitch Mind, soon to be made into a movie staring Tina Fey me ... because I'm capable of anything!) Who knows how this all is going to work out? Who knows how events will stack up through the rearview mirror? Only fortunetellers and my cat. (My cat is psychic.) I guess the only thing to do is bitchslap the Evil Mind Meanies, and carry on. (Make that into a t-shirt. Donate the profits to an animal shelter.)

If you don’t mind, I need to re-absorb Suzuki’s words: “So as long as you continue your practice, you are quite safe …" In improv, I was taught by TJ and Dave that "the practice" is the focus on the scene at hand. Listening and reacting honestly to the moment. If I could improvise like I breathe, always in the present, I’d be safe.

Ironically, the present moment is the REAL Golden Time. (Someone should tell Joe Bill … although I suspect he knows already.) We need to stay in the present to be of best service to the scene and our scene partners. How can we stay in the present? Listen without ears, eyes, hearts, and gut. Pay attention. Take a moment to breathe. And have faith that it all will be fine.

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In case you missed it and you're interested,

Does "Good" and "Bad" Exist? (Non-Judgment in Improv, Part One)

and

The Mind Meanies (Non-Judgment in Improv, Part Two)

Or how about some of these "Geeking Out with..." interviews?

Like the one when Dave Pasquesi and I have this exchange:

PAM: Much ado has been made, in certain circles, about that “First Moment” in a TJ and Dave show, the one when you look at each other and gracefully step into your characters. Do you ever look at TJ and think, “Oh crap. I got nothing”?

DAVE: All. the. time.

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Pam Victor is the founding member of The Ha-Ha’s, and she produces The Happier Valley Comedy Show in Western Massachusetts. Pam writes (and performs) the Geeking Out with... interview series. Pam writes mostly humorous, mostly true essays and reviews of books, movies, and tea on her blog, "My Nephew is a Poodle."  Written with co-authors TJ Jagodowski and David Pasquesi, "Improvisation at the Speed of Life: The TJ and Dave Book" is due out Spring, 2015. Currently, Pam teaches "The Zen of Improv Comedy" in Western Massachusetts.

From http://pamvictor.blogspot.com/2015/01/the-zen-of-improv-letting-go-of.html

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From http://pamvictor.blogspot.com/2015/04/scrumptious-improv-quote-tj-dave-book.html

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So much fun "Geeking Out with..." The ever-lovely, ever-talented Kate Flannery of The Office at the Women in Comedy Festival! Photo credit: Lisa Cordner

[bookandbeer]

Book: Improvisation at the Speed of Life: The TJ & Dave Book by T.J. Jagodowski and David Pasquesi with Pam Victor

Beer: 312 Urban Wheat Ale by Goose Island Beer Co.

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Thank you! Hope the beer helped.

[thehousethatdelbuilt]

Seeing your first TJ & Dave show is a rite of passage, like a pilgrimage to Mecca or a baptism, or any number of other religious metaphors signifying a change from one state to another. Other improv groups are great, but few (none?) transcend the way TJ & Dave do, making us believe in the world...

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Thanks, Rachel!

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From “Geeking Out with...Joe Bill” of BASSPROV

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The Zen of Improv: The Evil Mind Meanies (Non-Judgment in Improv, Part Two)

by Pam Victor

[The Zen of Improv is a series of articles about  the mind-expanding, groovy side of improvisation and other hippy shit.

You can find all the pieces here.]

Improv big guy Joe Bill calls the first 15 - 30 seconds of a scene the “Golden Time” –  which he defines as the time it takes an improviser to hate what they’ve just said. We’ve all gotten off the stage and thought, “Well, THAT sucked.”  (Haven’t we? Please tell me it’s not just me???) And come on, let’s just admit it, we’ve all been in scenes and shot eyeball-daggers at that dude onstage who we were absolutely convinced was the one really stinking up the show.

That’s a lot of judgment. A lot a lot of judgment. We judge our scenemates when we’re in the show. We judge the performers when we’re in the audience. And like Joe Bill says, we judge ourselves the most. I call these thoughts the Evil Mind Meanies, those assholes in our heads who habitually conjugate “to suck: I suck, you suck, he sucks, she sucks, we suck, you suck (plural), they suck.” (In French, that’s “je suck, tu sucks, il suck, elle suck, nous suckons, vous suckez, ils/elles suckent.” Though I could be mistaken about whether "suck" is a regular or irregular verb; I truly do suck at French verb conjugation.)

I’ve had people tell me that they didn’t feel they could be any “good” at improvising. Some of these people had taken an improv class or two. Many had not. These folks have insisted that they could “never be good at improv” because they’re not good at “thinking up” interesting scenarios. (That’s a good thing! Because I have been taught that we don’t have to think up anything in improvisation; we only have to notice what is already there.) They say they’re not funny. (That might not be such a bad thing either, in my opinion.) They say they’re not fast on their feet. (Good! They get to learn a new skill that is easy to get better at with practice.) These aren’t people who are aiming to audition for a Harold team at a big city theater. These are people who are thinking of taking an introductory improv class, who have already caved in to the message of the Evil Mind Meanies before they even took the first step.

“People suffer because they are caught in their views.

As soon as we release those views,

we are free and we don't suffer anymore.”

― Thích Nhất Hạnh,

The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching:

Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation

As I posited in Non-Judgment in Improv Part One, I truly and whole-heartedly believe you cannot be good or bad at improv during your first year (and maybe forever), particularly in class and rehearsal, by any standard or measurements. Though we may feel more or less successful during the journey, I strongly feel that putting the Evil Mind Meanies’ judgment on others or on ourselves is ultimately counter-productive to the process. Improvisation is a practice, like yoga or golf or gardening. You can’t judge your skill as a yogi after your first downward dog. Tiger Woods didn’t say, “I’m a shitty golfer” and put down the clubs forever after his first swing. It's not fair to expect your little dirt patch to look like the cover of Awe-Inspiring Gardens Galore! after your first growing season. In fact, when you plant the seeds, you don't have any idea which ones will grow or not - there is that necessary ingredient of faith coming in! All you can do is plant a bunch of seeds, water them, and keep showing up every day to tend to the garden little by little. Some seeds grow. Some don't. That’s just how life goes, and even the back of the seed packet doesn’t promise 100% yield. Each season, you learn more and more about what worked and what didn't. Each season, you harvest more tasty veggies. Each season, some whither and die or get gnawed on by a naked mole rat or are blanketed in some fucked up mildew. But I know one thing for damn certain: You definitely can't plant a seed one day, come back the next day and call yourself a bad gardener because there isn't a full-size pumpkin waiting for you.

It is exactly the same with improvisation. We can’t take a class or two (or three or four), get gnawed on by a naked mole rat onstage, and decide if we’re a shitty or spectacular improviser. Maaaaaybeee after a year of practicing, rehearsing, and/or performing at least once every week, then we can do some assessment. (Or maybe not.)

But that begs the questions, "When the time comes, how can we assess each other and ourselves in our work?" (I'm not entirely sure of the answer, and I'd love to hear your thoughts about it.) I know for sure where assessment can’t be done: Onstage. Recently, I had a show where the audience was real quiet. That’s how I chose to think of them when I noticed their response during the show, “Boy, these guys are real quiet.” They weren’t laughing a lot, but I wasn’t sure that meant they weren’t enjoying the show. When writing our book together, TJ and Dave taught me that if we judge a show by the laughter of the audience, we’re going down the wrong path, one that often leads us to make desperate choices out of fear. Since the worst seat in the house is onstage, I was in no position to determine if the audience was digging our shit the other night. All I knew they weren’t laughing a lot. But they weren’t grumbling or shifting in their seats either. They were quiet and attentive. They still seemed to be enjoying themselves. And even if they weren’t, the only thing I could do during the show to help – if the show even needed help - it was to remove my focus from something I had no control over (what was going on in the minds of the 74 people in the audience) and point it towards something I have some control over (the scene happening onstage). Let’s get out of the audience’s heads and pay attention to our scene partners and think, “Ok, where’s the joyride in this scene and how can I have the most fun ever?”

As Mark Sutton, the Artistic Director of Training and Development at The Second City, said in a class, “Your brain is incapable of creating and evaluating at the same time.” Personally, I tend to believe almost all of what Mark Sutton says, so I guess we aren’t even wired to evaluate the scene that’s happening anyway.  And even on the outside chance that Mark is wrong and we are capable of evaluating the scene we’re in, do we even want to? Is self-evaluation during a show helpful in having a “good” show? Does self-judgment during a show make it easier or more fun?

There was one Improvised Shakespeare Company show that I saw at iO-Chicago a couple years ago which I’ll hopefully never forget. During an early scene, one actor made a very non-specific reference when establishing a neighboring town. Since ISC works at the absolute tippy top level of improvisation across the board, this “failure” to be specific was noticed joyfully by the cast, who took it and ran with it. The generalized nature of this neighboring town became a central part of the plot, with whole songs improvised about that town, which the players gleefully referred to as having either hills or valleys or was seaside or landlocked and a flag that was either red or blue and populated by people who were either friends or enemies. (I’m sure I’m getting those details wrong. Many apologies to Improvised Shakespeare Company, but hopefully you get the point.) The show was very fun, incredibly entertaining, extremely hilarious, and astoundingly skillfully performed. It was also very beautiful … and it embodied for me the idea that a mistake doesn’t exist in improvisation until the show is over. It's only when the lights go down can we look back and perhaps judge if a move was “good” or “bad.” And even then, if it was “bad,” then maybe the blame rests not in the person who made a mistake but in the whole cast’s failure to make it “good?”

“A mistake is your greatest comic gift.”

- Susan Messing

And I suspect I’m even making a mistake right here by even suggesting we should judge our work at all. (Or is it a mistake? Maybe it’s not a mistake because it’s leading me to better thinking???)

But I’ll let you be the judge (or not!) next week inThe Zen of Improv: Letting Go of the Judgmental Bitch (Non-Judgment in Improv, Part Three)…

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In case you missed it and you're interested,

Does "Good" and "Bad" Exist? (Non-Judgment in Improv, Part One)

Or how about some of these "Geeking Out with..." interviews?

Like the one where Geeking Out with....Joe Bill (Part Three)

when he says,

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Pam Victor is the founding member of The Ha-Ha’s, and she produces The Happier Valley Comedy Show in Western Massachusetts. Pam writes (and performs) the Geeking Out with... interview series. Pam writes mostly humorous, mostly true essays and reviews of books, movies, and tea on her blog, "My Nephew is a Poodle."  Written with co-authors TJ Jagodowski and David Pasquesi, "Improvisation at the Speed of Life: The TJ and Dave Book" is due out Spring, 2015. Currently, Pam teaches "The Zen of Improv Comedy" in Western Massachusetts.

[pamvictor-blog]

Dreams do come true when you say "Yes, and..."