I spent several years of my life as a theatrical improviser. I’ve performed in over 8,000 shows and nearly every one of them had an improvised element to it. That means no script, no net and nothing to rely on but my scene partners and my wits. As improvisers, we regularly take a trivial bit of nothing and attempt to turn it into something wonderful right away. And more often than not, we succeed. So, I thought I knew just about everything I needed to know about being creative. Then I accepted an internship as a copywriter for Copacino + Fujikado and everything I thought I knew go turned on its ear.
Let’s start with what I do know. When people see an improv show skillfully performed, what they are really seeing is a highly focused exercise in agreement. In a nutshell, improvisers agree to agree. Improv guru Keith Johnstone puts it this way: ‘Those who say Yes are rewarded by the adventures they have, and those who say No are rewarded by the safety they attain.’
So, for instance, if I walk out on stage and say to my scene partner, “A major storm she be brewin’, Cap’n”, my partner need only find agreement with the world I’ve created. He might say, “Ay, Wilkins. Ye best batten down the hatches now because the rest of the crew is drunk.” We continue in this way, saying Yes and adding one piece of information at time until the scene is over. What if my partner had blocked my initial offer?: ‘Storm? It’s not raining. And I’m not a Captain, I’m a vacuum cleaner salesman.’ Well the scene would have died right there. So, the more ways we find to agree, the better the scene is. If you and your partners accept everything, then even your mistakes seem intentional and rehearsed. Your only editors are these questions: Does it exist in the world we’ve created? Does it move the story forward?
The thing is, as a greenhorn copywriter, I often don’t know the answer to those two questions. I have to learn that though my twenty word sentence might be brilliant, it won’t exactly fit the transit board on the side of a bus. And while poetic language and meter may be entertaining, it’s not necessarily appropriate for the informational newspaper ad I just wrote. I catch myself trying to be clever when what I should be doing is moving the story forward. Trying to be clever is where I feel safe. And yet what was I spouting about safety earlier?
I hope that soon I’ll figure out again what I supposedly already know: That if I say Yes I will be rewarded with adventure. Time to batten down the hatches.
