Here’s a guest post from Without Annette’s Francois Vincent, delayed slightly by me having my laptop stolen.
I like this post for two reasons;
a) it’s very short, and I like short things
b) I agree without it totally, and I like things that I agree with
Bad News
by Francois Vincent
————-
You need to fail. If you aren’t failing, you aren’t learning. If you are doing something without failing, then you’ve learned it.
You need to push your own envelope, to perform at the edge of your abilities, to go outside of your zone of comfort. And in doing so you will fail. If you aren’t failing, you haven’t pushed yourself beyond your capabilities.
You will eat that failure. You will fail and fail and fail and you will suck it all up. Then one day, you will do it. You will have
learned and you will do it. You will explore it, sometimes failing, sometimes nailing it. And then you will be good. Enjoy it and be happy because I have some bad news.
I remember several years ago, while touring, going to an improv show.
The style of play can be summed up by this little snippet
setting: a fish and chip shop
A: There’s a severed head in this deep fryer.
B: Isn’t it your wife’s head?
A: (unfazed) why, so it is.
Now, this complete lack of emotional response is pretty much always
good for a laugh (there’s a rather fun game called ’stiff upper lip’
that plays on this), but like so many things that are always good for
a laugh, you’re really selling all your narrative stocks for a quick comedic gain,
rather than letting them grow for the big (potential) pay off.
Whenever I see a scene where people remain unaffected by big events (and as often as not ‘people’ is really me) I always think to myself ‘that was a bit of a ‘head in the deep fryer’ moment’.
Here’s some wonderful advice for teaching youngsters from Emma Brittenden, who is an awesome teacher of drama and improv.
Dress smartly
Read books or do something boring before teaching young ones
Do something silly before teaching teenagers
Smile.
Ask students about their days and listen. Don’t offer advice.
Ally yourself with the students, against the world.
Generally, suggest things directly to pre-teens; suggest things ‘other people would profit by doing’ to teens.
Don’t acknowledge students’ neuroses. Instead, speak generally to students as if they’re acting in the opposite manner.
Praise hard-work.
Praise anything the students do that’s outside of their comfort-zone, but don’t acknowledge that you know it was uncomfortable for them.
Never tell students off: it only makes you look weak.
If a student’s not trying, act unperturbed, back off and spend more time with the rest of the class.
Only mention yourself if in a self-deprecating way, and only if the lesson’s going well.
Practise what you preach.
Associate the class with success. If they’re silly on a particular day, change the lesson to harness this.
This American Life is one of my favourite things. Here’s the first in a series of videos with host Ira Glass discussing storytelling. As always, he nails it.
Another chart I call upon from time to time. This is to say that the more you commit to a character the more you look like a dork (my students know this), until you commit enough to push through the other side of dork and into awesome (my students don’t always know this).
A lot of people seem to think that if they signal that they’re not really trying then they won’t look like such an idiot. However, it’s this very thing that makes them look stupid. Our only hope for survival is to grit our teeth and push on through to awesome-town.
Here’s a graph that I used today. It explains how the longer you delay in naming something, the more awesome it will have to be to satisfy people.
I’ve also found that the other end of the scale is also true. When doing corporate work I’ve found that people will find anything amusing if it is said immediately.
Came across this interesting website. Genreguru.com
The focus of the website is the sale of specific guides for improvising different genres, but there are a few interesting things for those who, like me, have an antipathy for paying for things on the internet.
Such as this list of different ways of asking for a genre.
A pair of Johns Hopkins and government scientists have discovered that when jazz musicians improvise, their brains turn off areas linked to self-censoring and inhibition, and turn on those that let self-expression flow.