I know it feels like we’re on a drum roll…. I’m so sorry.

What can I say, I love drummers. Always fascinated by the complexity of what they do, generally in service to the wider sound. Core to the rhythm section, unarmed with melody, giving shape to the piece. I’ve seen David King play three or four times and not only is he incredible, the simple joy emanating from him behind the kit is inspiring. He’s a child given the one toy he is after, and like any child he doesn’t play with it as you are supposed to: I’ve seen him caress the skins with a football rattle, explore every edge of the drum carriages, drawn by intuition into any contact that moves him.

He’s playing, pure and simple.

While we’re on video, this is the most awesome thing.

That guy, what he’s feeling? We’ve got that inside of each and every one of us. The trick is to find out how we can let it out.

Oh, this was via @robgrundel

Funny thing about having improvisation on video. In many ways it’s totally inadequate. But it’s still a tool that can be incredibly valuable for evaluation and a reminder of what you want out of the form.

Here’s a case in point. It’s several years old – considerably older than the 2010 upload dates – but it’s always been a fond scene for me. I’d suggest watching it and then hear my post-mortem…

OK, scalpel out.

First, it begins from nothing. We’re just looking at each other, mirroring a slight contortion in each others’ faces, and James gives me an arbitrary action as an offer. I like this – it’s one of my favorite things about improvisation when rolling well.

Second, I say what I see. The contorted faces and the rhythmic movement spur the words “Physical therapy” from me. This is not a light choice – it’s harder to hear on video, but I remember an intake of breath at that point, at the prospect that we’re going to do a scene about stroke or palsy rehabilitation. I like this too.

Third, we don’t go there. I fix it, by putting this in the context of a revision of many types of therapy. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I believe strongly that improvisers do ultimately have a responsibility for what they put out there on stage. I don’t believe it’s ok to perform a scene that displays and reinforces prejudice, and then shrug and hold ‘spontaneity’ as your excuse. On the other hand, you can find pathos and indeed comedy in a scene about rehabilitation; there would have to be a lot justified (who are we to each other, why are we standing up and both looking so bemused) but there could be richness in it. Granted, I’d been performing outside of classes for just a few months at this point, but if I came up against this choice now I hope I would go with it.

Fourth, we find some differentiation, mainly in status. James plays naive fool (in his peerless way) and I play a bit more upwardly mobile, a little straighter. I like this, it’s not obligatory but it adds texture to the scene.

Fifth, we find some physical patterns that we can return to. Thinking about this, the physicality is inspired from the initiation of the scene, the somewhat gormless postures and arbitrary movement. Our failed high-fives, our confusion about the seating, and the general tentative body responses when tested. It’s not really ‘game of the scene’ stuff because it’s not quite specific enough, but it is a sensibility that infuses the scene and I quite like it.

Sixth, we have a game of naming therapies. I ID it and then James plays it exquisitely.¬†One interesting feature of this scene, and the kind of thing I like to puzzle over after the fact: some would say the game is enough, and that additional content just dilutes the essence of the scene. I’m not sure I agree (see below) but I can definitely see occasions in this video where the game pattern could be played with even more, and is ignored in the aim of ‘pressing on’ in some way. As I say, James is bang on it, he has a great intuition for this stuff.

Seventh, we create some story around the situation. The therapy game is placed in a fuller context, there are stakes, character aspirations. I’m pretty happy with this, I feel it gives a bit of a richness, opens up and specifies the scene a bit more and gives us other dimensions to play with. However, it risks hitting Exposition Mode, and is not as effortlessly playful as the first part of the scene. Could we have just stuck with the games? Maybe. I’ll stick to my guns and say that elaboration of character and relationship – even when you have a game going – is often a useful way to go. Which is not to say it can’t be done more smoothly than in this case.

Eighth, we have a potential status reversal in a callback to aromatherapy (that Dewi correctly intuits is a wonderful offer). This is interesting. I’ve been leaning over James in status at points, particularly when it came to his inability to name that particular therapy. So in principle, my forgetting it is a chance to find the ‘point’ of the scene, maybe see his character blossom, and mine learn some humility. But it didn’t quite go that way, and I think part of it is that I’d not kept enough of that status separation: in the joy of returning to those comedic patterns such as stumbling physicalities, I think the two characters joined to enough of a degree that it just felt better to keep going with it.

So keep looking for something from nothing, be provoked by your partner, notice patterns and extend them. Find what makes your character, be prepared to change. My big two takeaways from reviewing this are firstly, to hold on to my character’s shit a little more. And secondly, to be aware of when I am looking to shape or fix the scene rather than being swept up within it – see 3, 6/7. It’s not a perennial sin but it’s something I do notice, and it’s less fun than Being There. Most of all, I shouldn’t be seeing it as my responsibility alone. Direction will emerge between me and my scene partners, after all.