Showing posts with label teen improv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teen improv. Show all posts

Monday, April 8, 2019

Teen Improv Fight Club by Michael Golding

It is not unusual for the at-risk teens I work with in workshops to be reluctant to embrace the unknown and allow an improvised scene to flow organically within the structure of a game. They require advance information with dialogue and action before participating, so they don't appear foolish. Directing focus on the rules of a format, which grounds players in the moment, eventually
weans the students off their perceived safety net. The current group I'm working with has provided a new challenge, leading me to formulate a new approach.

In the middle of a throng of students

With several decades of working with at-risk populations, I've become more flexible with how the rules of a structure are perceived and played. Being an improv martinet can be counterproductive in allowing the identity of the group to emerge. It's a fine line to walk; are rules being ignored because the players found an innovative way to achieve the objective - or they simply didn't listen to the guidelines and decided to do whatever they want?

At a recent workshop two players were given a scenario to improvise by the class (brother tells his sister that her boyfriend is cheating on her). The players immediately started strategizing on how it should be performed. Normally I would chime in with "No, don't plan it. All you need to know is who you are, what you're doing and where you are. That's it." Instead, I allowed them to strategize, because they were on fire collaborating and connecting with each other.

The students watching started contributing their suggestions on how to play the scene.  I almost put a stop to that - determining that it was up to the two players, not the audience to decide what to do. But the class was enthusiastic, the players liked some of their suggestions, built on them, so I allowed the process to continue.

As the scene commenced, the class proceed to side-coach, which I have encouraged in previous workshops with the guideline "say freeze, first. Wait for the action to stop, then add your direction." That wasn't happening this time. The class was overlapping, yelling out suggestions, sometimes debating amongst themselves over choices. None of this was contentious. The players would pause to consider options, occasionally asking questions for clarification, then move on. While the atmosphere became raucous there was a positive energy between the student audience and players working together to navigate the intricacies of a scene that was presented by the group. There were shifts in time, locations, emotions, activities and additional characters were added and removed. When the scene was over everyone felt they contributed to its success, and left the session feeling joyous and congratulatory towards each other.

Thinking about the session on my commute home, I felt that I had just witnessed a new guerrilla theatre/cage match approach to improvisation. Perhaps the birth of a new format; Teen Improv Fight Club. The first rule of Teen Improv Fight Club is: You don't talk about Teen Improv Fight Club.

Considering this current group, I have a feeling they would find a way to circumvent that rule.


Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher. He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics and Canadian Improv Games. He was the artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in New York and created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa. Michael is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles working with at-risk teens and traditional college students. he co-wrote and produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube). His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre is available on Amazon, Barned and Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University's Tisch School of the Arts and an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU's Steinhardt School of Culture, education and Human Development.






Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Guns, Education and Improv by Michael Golding



Due to budget cuts at high schools who normally host El Camino College’s after school outreach courses, I was not offered any assignments for the spring semester. This was not unexpected. Last fall, when Trump’s cuts to education began to take effect, my colleagues and I knew that it was just a matter of time before this impacted our program. I didn’t think it would happen so quickly.

The students I work with are at-risk. I teach Theatre Appreciation and Intro to Acting on a rotating semester basis. Students show up expecting a lecture course. Instead, they are exposed to my learning by doing approach. The objectives of the curriculum are achieved via theatre games and the class is conducted like an improv workshop.

My courses, which run from 3:30pm – 5:30pm (sometimes longer), keep the students out of trouble and from being targeted by gangs. It also instills the idea that college is a possibility for them.  Being exposed to a different approach in learning has a ripple effect on the students that enhances their academic and social skills. Attendance improves as well.

Now we don’t have the budget to keep this program going – on top of the recurring issue of no funds for supplies and resources in classrooms where enrollment hits 40 or more. This is not new for teachers. What is new is Trump’s proposal to arm teachers.



Here are my thoughts on that; I have been working with at-risk teen populations in Los Angeles since 2002. First through Los Angeles City College, then El Camino College (both the Torrance and Compton divisions). I have taught at high schools in Compton, Lynwood, Carson, Inglewood, Torrance and Hollywood. I have met and observed countless teachers doing their job extraordinarily well under the most daunting conditions.

I have also encountered a large number of teachers who do not have the temperament, patience, empathy, compassion or maturity to be working in education. Some are flat out sadists who enjoy the control they have over their students. I have witnessed this first hand. Believe me, a gun is the last thing you would want in their hands. If they could get away with shooting a student by claiming self defense, they would.

If I was teaching this semester, I would explore scenarios of a political environment that has armed teachers and how that would affect the classroom dynamic and relationships with students. A missed opportunity for me, to be sure.

A large percentage of my male students glorify guns. These students often want to improvise scenes about bank robberies, kidnappings, and hostage situations. Guns are brandished side-ways with a machismo that is simultaneously amusing and terrifying.

Occasionally, I’ll acquiesce to a scene about a bank robbery, with the guidelines of no shooting or pistol whipping.  Additionally, the guns have no bullets (or aren’t real). First time I tried that in a workshop with the guidelines one of the students playing a customer yelled out “hey, that gun isn’t real!” and I had to end the scene before it collapsed into a mass fight in the bank.  Now I instruct the students playing customers and tellers “You don’t know that the gun isn’t real or has no bullets.”  The emphasis is on the threat of the gun and power it wields – not seeing someone being shot.

I have a warm-up game where I play a series of sound effects and students have to engage in an activity that would correspond with it. The sound effects are typically bowling, ice skating, rain forest, traffic, beach, pool hall, which the students perform with varying degrees of commitment. When military battle sounds emanate from the speakers, the energy and commitment from the students spikes and there is disappointment from the class when after 30 seconds or so, the next sound effect pops up.

So, let’s review my perspective on inner city high schools in Los Angeles.

There is now no money for an after school program that keeps high school students out of trouble, enhances their academic and social skills and prepares them for college. A proposal has been made to arm teachers (some who carry resentment towards their students) around teenagers who glorify guns (and would figure out how to get the weapon from the teacher). Classes are still overcrowded.

What could possibly go wrong?


Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development.   






Friday, May 26, 2017

Lone Wolf By Michael Golding




Enrollments for my high school theatre appreciation courses where students receive college credit, are typically high at the beginning of the spring semester.  Not unusual to have thirty-five to forty students in my workshops. Taught primarily through theatre games, I’ve developed a structure that can accommodate a large group; warm-ups, improv formats, small group assignments and a closure exercise for the whole class.  Crowd control is an issue and it is difficult to focus on students who are reluctant to participate without having momentum grind to a halt. I often feel like an emcee that has to keep the show on schedule in fear of losing interest from the audience.

A small portion of one of my classes


Towards the end of the semester attendance becomes erratic due to overlapping student commitments; track and band practice, clubs, field trips and projects for other classes.  Attendance can suddenly dwindle to twelve to eighteen students. As the summer recess looms, the temptation to ditch a course that runs from 3:30 to 5:20pm is hard to resist, especially when it falls on a “half-day” where school is let out at 1pm.  Hanging around the campus for two and a half hours isn’t all that enticing.  For the seniors in the class, by the time May rolls around, they’re pretty much done and if they show up, it doesn’t guarantee their focus is on the workshop.

I tend to do my best work during this time because the smaller sized workshops enable me to focus more attention on students who need it.  Victor is one of those students. Shy, reclusive, introverted, he would often come to class late, timed perfectly to avoid the group warm-up and immediately try to blend into his surroundings. Pressed against the wall in the back of the class with his hoodie pulled down over the front of his face, he was invisible to the rest of the class, unless he got up to charge his phone.

Frequently I had to cajole Victor into participating. Often, he would just shake his head no. He would reluctantly join a group format but made minimal effort and barely spoke above a whisper.  Since my enrollment was 33 students, there was only so much time I could spend on encouraging him to participate.  But I knew this was the class for him. Peripherally I would catch him smiling at a game students would be playing or laugh at something that resonated with him. Our eyes would meet at such a moment and he would revert back to his introverted, sullen state.

When the class size was small, between 15 to 20 students I was able to involve Victor a little more, pairing him up with students he was comfortable with.  I found that he would seize up in formats that required an immediate response, but was more relaxed in ones where he was able to take his time to explore and discover.

Only 10 students showed up at a recent workshop. Victor was one of them. As a final project students are required to bring in a theatre game I have not done in class and conduct it. Five students brought in games and all required group participation. Victor joined in and he seemed to enjoy himself. Perhaps it was because his peers were in charge where they suddenly had a sense of ownership in the class, or there were fewer eyes on him.  It was a very relaxed, intimate session free of the usual ambient noise that made conducting a workshop difficult. 

One of my students conducting her final project.


With a half hour left to the workshop I decided to put Victor in a game called Lone Wolf with two other students, Breanne and Mike. In this game, which was taught to me by David Shepherd (co-creator of Compass and Improv Olympics) only one player can move and speak at a time. There is also a Viola Spolin game by the same name, but the emphasis is on multiple concurrent scenes. The class suggested a park as a location, with Victor, Breanne and Mike discussing how they felt about school.

Chairs were set up as a bench and the scene began with all three sitting down. One at a time, Victor, Breanne and Mike would stand up, say something, and then sit back down. The class laughed at how the game was being mocked, which is often the case when the rules of the format seem unreasonable or difficult.

I directed the three to get off the bench.  Breanne got up and created a water fountain, but exaggerated drinking from it to elicit laughter from the class. Victor got up and reprimanded her for making a mess. Mike got up and slipped on the wet ground from the water Breanne was wasting.

My next direction was for them to explore the environment and find details. Be as specific and realistic as possible. Victor examined a tree which had initials carved into it. He felt the coarseness of the tree against his hand and the indentation the carvings made. He was committed and focused on the discovery. Mike picked up trash from the ground and put it in a nearby garbage bin.  Breanne found a discarded kite and started to untangle the string attached to it.

The scene went on for almost ten minutes. Through a slow, thoughtful pace, a lovely scene evolved where Victor reveals that he is going to drop out and Mike and Breanne talk him out of it. All of this transpired as the exploration of the space continued, with specific environmental details making it more vibrant to the class.  The scene ended as the wind picked up, temperature dropped and it began to rain.

While I was proud of all three for working together and taking their time to create a realistic scene with humor that sprung out of the situation and characters, I was thrilled that Victor was able to commit to a format that required discipline and patience. It was the most natural I have ever seen him in class and from the expression on his face I knew he realized that he just had a breakthrough moment in the class.

I knew it was just a matter of time. I just had to be patient. 

After class Mike confided in me that Victor was actually thinking of dropping out due to feeling isolated and unenthusiastic about school.  As the result of two new friendships he developed from my class, Mike and Breanne, he decided to stick it out.  I choose Breanne and Mike to play with Victor because I knew he felt comfortable around them, without realizing they had developed a relationship outside of class and were about to embark on a scene that realistically reflected their dynamic.

With the right game and chemistry of players, it’s amazing what can be accomplished. 



Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development. 










Wednesday, May 10, 2017

From the Archives: David Shepherd’s Improvisational Theatre Notes





I was in Ottawa recently for the 40th anniversary of the Canadian Improv Games (CIG), a nation wide program for high school students who perform improvised scenes in teams based on suggestions from the audience. During the school year, teams participate in regional tournaments. The winning team from each region then goes on to the National Festival and Tournament held in Ottawa in April at the National Arts Centre. CIG was created by Willie Wyllie and Howard Jerome, inspired by the Improv Olympics, created by David Shepherd and Howard Jerome. Along with Paul Sills, David Shepherd was the producer of North America's first professional improvisational theatre The Compass, which was the forerunner of the Second City.



A week before the National Festival this year, I spent a few days at the home of Howard Jerome in Hamilton, so that we could attend a CIG fundraiser together in Toronto. While I was at Howard’s home, I dug through his improv archives to see if there was any material I could add to David Shepherd’s collection, which is now housed at Northwestern University. Most of the material I came upon was from the Improv Olympics, including the Spring 1976 issue of Nous Journal, a local Ottawa newspaper. Howard Jerome and David Shepherd were in town at the time to conduct Improv Olympic workshops at various high schools and Howard convinced the editors to devote their Spring issue to improvisation.



The issue includes descriptions of the Improv Olympic events (Time Dash, Emotional Hurdles, Character Relay, Space Jump, Silent Wrestling, Sound Swim), warm-up games and educational tips. What I found particularly fascinating about the issue, which I am sharing, is an essay written by David Shepherd which serves as both a history lesson and the foundation of his philosophy about why we should all be improvising every day – (which we do whether we’re aware of it or not). Enjoy.



Improvisational Theatre Notes
By David Shepherd


Improvisation is one of the oldest kinds of theatre. Five hundred years ago families of Italian Players made their living going from town to town doing “Commedia.”  This was a live soap opera – all improvised in parks, streets and festivals. If the players managed to keep their characters interesting, then the public would come back day after day. When people stopped paying, the troupe moved on.

Each players studied a couple of handbooks about his character – one full of speeches he could use, the other full of “bits” he could do. These books were handed on from mother to daughter (or father to son) as young people in the family got old enough to play the standard parts of Doctor, Captain, Servant, etc.  In his youth, Moliere played in a similar group.

As soon as the troupe arrived in a town its members would collect as much local gossip as possible about the people they’d be playing for. Each show was based on a situation invented for that audience. If after a few minutes this idea led nowhere, the players simply stopped. With no embarrassment they said to the audience: “Sorry. Our improvisations didn’t work. Let’s try again.” They huddled, invented a new situation, and stared all over.

When a player got in trouble he fell back on what he’s learned from one of the two books. The Captain, for instance, might start telling the audience how he was about to die! …. For the love of a farm girl. Arlechino the servant might mime a fly buzzing around his head. He’d track down that imaginary fly until he caught it in his cupped hand and then – ate it!

Improvisational theatre exists today in Toronto, where the Second City Troupe knows how to take a suggestion from the audience for an improvisation about our Canadian life. They also do a show based entirely on scenes that were first improvised, then memorized and set.  

Improvisation works best among people who know and can trust each other. It does not work on conflict. We have to cooperate in many ways in order to play:

We must agree on where we are (for instance, if I decide that a giant safe is against this wall, then you can’t walk through that space).

We must agree on who we are (for instance, if you say you’re my mother, then I have to accept you as my mother).

We must agree on what we’re doing together.

In improvisational theatre there is no need for a painted set.  Nor do you need a script. You don’t have to have thousands of watts of stage lighting. You don’t even need a stage. And in fact, improvisational theatre works better if you don’t have stage, lights, set and curtain. Because without these limitations, you have the freedom to explore.

In this issue of NOUS JOURNAL, you’ll see how to do three things:

1.     experience the freedom and fun of improvisation (this takes only a few minutes.)
2.     use improvisation to write a group scene that’s half prepared, half improvised (this takes an hour)
3.     use improvisation to put on a show for yourselves or for the class next door (this takes two hours)

Remember: there’s nothing new or strange about improvisation. You’ve been doing it all your life:

For instance, if you’ve ever pretended you were angrier than you really were – or sadder, or happier – just for the fun of it…..

If you ever pretended you were a hockey star or a finicky grandmother or a down-and-out bum (with no script to tell you what to say)……

If you ever imagined (with a friend) that you were in some jungle hideaway or rocket ship or fancy party….

If so, you were improvising. It’s natural to play a feeling, character or place that you don’t usually experience. It’s healthy to relax once in a while, let your hair down and your feelings out. Live without concentrating on being yourself. Enjoy stepping into another’s shoes, onto another planet, under another feeling. 

  





Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development. 
     


Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Missed Improv Opportunities by Michael Golding




This semester through the Compton division of El Camino College’s offsite program I was assigned to teach Theatre Appreciation at two inner city high schools in Los Angeles; Firebaugh High School in Lynwood and Compton High School in Compton.  Students receive college credit for attending the courses which run from 3:30 – 5:30pm twice a week.  Two weeks in, both courses were canceled due to low enrollment. This is a common occurrence for adjuncts who work with high school students. The disappointment cuts deep this time out. The students at both schools were excited with my learning by doing approach, which relies more on participating in improv games, formats and group collaboration, than listening to lengthy lectures. I was stimulated by the creative possibilities both classes offered and was already strategizing how to alter my curriculum to accommodate the specific needs of the students.

There were students in both classes who have previously taken Intro to Acting with me, where I take the same hands on approach, although there is a scripted element to the course where scenes and monologues have to be performed. In that course, I give the students the choice of finding a scripted scene or monologue to perform, or developing one through improv and creating a script based on it.  Since those students were already familiar with my style, it was forcing me to search out new ways to engage them so they could not anticipate outcomes. What I found endearing was that these students understood what was going on in the minds of the students who were working with me for the first time and discovering in a joyful way, I’m unlike any instructor they’ve had before. The learning by doing approach catches on quickly, and nothing gives me a greater satisfaction than monitoring the looks of new students engaging in the work for the first time, where I know they’re thinking “Where has this type of class been my entire life?”  It is a welcome outlet after being cooped up in school all day for them.
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At Firebaugh High School in Lynwood, I had fourteen students registered and eleven at Compton High School. Smaller classes work better when it comes to at-risk populations where I can give more individual attention. But the college has a minimum requirement of twenty two students.  Sometimes I can sway the administration to extend the registration deadline, and make a case that the students attending will become ambassadors for the college. Canceling a course that they’re into will only diminish them, resulting in leeriness when contemplating signing up for future courses at the college.  My case fell on deaf ears this time out. Essentially the administration told me “Better luck next time.” Tell that to my bank account or the students who were on the precipice of a new exciting journey. 

Firebaugh High School

Francisco, a short, muscular, eighteen year old fireball of kinetic energy, confessed to me at my first workshop at Firebaugh High School that he wanted to be a stand-up comedian. He was always seeking out the comedic edge with anything he participated in. When I asked for a suggestion for an activity he offered “crucifixion.”  An activity that a group could do together, he proudly exclaimed “circle jerk.” He frequently got cheap laughs from the class by mocking the games. In many ways he reminded me of what I was like at fourteen, when I first started taking improv classes and I was looking forward to slowly changing his mindset from “it’s all about me” to “it’s all about the group.”  He developed a kinship with Donotus, a tall, lean, and lanky seventeen year old who fearlessly volunteered for every game, without paying attention to what the rules and objectives were and was frequently crestfallen when his noble attempts failed.

I paired the two up for  “Try that on for Size” where an activity, such as washing the dishes is given, and the players have to come up with different explanations while pantomiming the same motion for the activity; (Example: “What are you doing?” “I’m trying to raise the dead. Try that on for size!”). After a few failed attempts, Francisco and Donotus clicked with the game, and were thrilled with how they were bouncing off each other and developing a rhythm.  As I drove home after class I spotted the two walking together on the sidewalk, plotting away with the possibilities of future collaborations. 

Compton High School

My Compton High School class had nine female students and two male, one of which was a dapper seventy year old man named Lawrence. The offsite program allows adult students to attend high school courses if the schedule fits their needs better. It’s an interesting dynamic. Depending on the age gap, frequently the adults take on a paternal role with the teenagers. Lawrence had a thoughtful, soothing effect on the other students, who readily accepted him. In my experience, inner city students have a more respectful attitude towards elderly people, usually because their grandparents often live with or are raising them. It was a joy to watch Lawrence immerse himself in “Tableau,” a game where players freeze in a pose that creates a picture of  a location, such as McDonald’s, the beach or a bank. Now retired, Lawrence wanted to pursue the college degree that eluded him in his youth and I was eagerly looking forward to becoming part of his journey and the various roles he would play with the students in scenes. 

As I torment myself with might have been this semester, I hope that the four two hour workshops both groups had with me was enough to inspire an interest in the work and future theatre courses. For the adjunct instructors, the offsite program is an admirable endeavor, designed to inspire high school students to consider college, what will be required of them and envision a life beyond high school. But the reality from the perspective of the college administration is it’s all about money and numbers. Pack them in, espouse the virtues of the college then send them on their way. Ideally, the college would love for me to have forty students in each class, which I have at times.  Even though I have developed a successful structure that involves group warm-ups and collaboration exercises, often the momentum of the class slows down due to crowd control when the class is that large.  Twenty two is the way to go. Even better if it’s less.

The ongoing uncertainty of committing to a semester followed by the disappointment of an abrupt cancellation has forced me to decide whether I want to continue with this program. Aside from the financial hardship, there is an emotional toll, because I cannot teach without bonding with my students and I’m already feeling the loss over the missed opportunities of this semester.  It was neither the fault of the students nor I that the classes were cancelled. What we’re all feeling right now is anger, with no one to direct it to.  I love what I do, but my heart has been broken so many times in the past with this program that it’s beginning to develop scar tissue.  There is no closure when a course is suddenly cancelled and I don’t have an opportunity to say goodbye to the students. At least I had two great weeks with both groups. We were connecting and I know that I was opening the door to new possibilities for the students. That’s something to be proud of.      

That said, imagine what I could have accomplished with both groups if I had them for three months.

Workshop director suddenly at liberty.



Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development. 
   
     



Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Life Story By Michael Golding



In my college workshops with at-risk high school students, I try to utilize their life experiences as much as possible when exploring themes, situations and characters in scenes, games and formats. The emphasis is on realism, which is often not the case with this population who lean more towards outlandish, unrealistic, and violent scenarios.

An in-class written assignment I use to elicit those experiences is called Life Story.  The set-up is that a producer bought their life story to be turned into a play. The student has to come up with a title, genre, and a few sentences describing what the play is about.

As I read through the papers, scene ideas pop out at me as I gain insight into who these students are. I write down notes on each paper to get the student to think a little deeper about the story.  This semester’s batch is particularly intriguing;

Life of Color (drama) A student deals with stress and anger through painting. Color saves me. Art saves me. Art takes all the bad thoughts away when I paint. I consider myself art. I myself am art. Art is everything to me. (My note: Lovely. Let’s come up with a scene where you encounter stress and anger, then deal with it through the activity of painting.)
 
 Beautiful Tragedies (drama/horror) A girl who lives with her grandmother and an aunt who is a felon, learns to deal with police, prison and the will to try and overcome it all. (My note: I’d like to see more of the characters who inhabit this world of yours.)

Addicted (suspense/drama) A girl who is being raised by a single mother, who she rarely sees, falls for someone that she knows is an asshole but can’t seem to let go. (My note: Let’s see a scene where she first met and fell for this guy.)

Roller (drama/romance) Girl is involved with a boyfriend who is into serious drugs and becomes aggressive when using. (My note: Can we see a scene about what he’s like when he’s not using?)

Viewing Things Differently (drama) A close friend’s betrayal and the repercussions that follow. (My note: Let’s see a scene about what the friend was like before the betrayal.)

Records (drama) A young teenage girl’s life depends on records, gets hired to work in a record store. (My note: Let’s do a scene where you apply for the job).

Ricardo (drama) Argument with brother leads to a fight that goes too far. (My note: Do you and your brother fight often? Over what? Are the arguments ever resolved non- violently? If so, let’s see one.)

There are students who don’t exactly do the assignment as described,  but still offer something interesting to work with;

Game Day (drama) A teenage boy comes up with an idea for a million dollar game and releases it on the internet. (My note: Let’s see a scene where you are selling this game to someone.)

Run Away Fugitive (action) Teenage boy breaks out of prison, steals a car, changes his appearance and goes on the run. (My note: What crime did he commit to be incarcerated? How does he survive on the run?)

The 411 (drama) People are always asking a teenage boy how to do stuff, because they assume he knows everything. Turns out, he does. (My note: Let’s explore various moments where people assume this of you.)

Money Gang Bang (action) Gang member gets shot in the forehead by a rival gang drive by. (My note: Let’s explore what leads up to that act and the repercussions afterwards.)

Shippers Found Dead (horror) Tech company uses zombies as slave labor to ship out merchandise. (My note: Can we come up with a scene that explores how the shippers became zombies?)

Once I’ve handed back the papers with my notes, I then get the students to come up with a who/what/where scene based on their story that can be explored through improv on stage. The student doesn’t necessarily have to act in their own scene. He or she can cast and direct it. Additionally, the student has to design a set floor plan, based on floor-plan symbols from Viola Spolin’s Improvisation for the Theater, which is a recommended textbook in my class.  The floor-plan provides the student with a sense of staging, set design and focusing on the where.

When the scenes are up on their feet, I begin to side-coach as the students improvise to uncover the beats. My directions hone in on specific improv skills, which are also essential life skills.

Side coaching directions:

1.     Five Second Delay:  Players have to wait five seconds before responding to each other.

2.     Contact (Spolin):  Players have to touch each other in a different way whenever they say something.'

3.     Inner Monologue:  Thirty second monologue on what is going on inside player’s character’s head.

4.     Gibberish:  Speaking in an unknown language.

5.     Explore activity:  Players have to add substance and detail to what they are physically doing.

6.     Focus on emotion:  Players have to explore what they are feeling at that moment and find a way to express it physically.

7.     Switch time:  Scene is taken either ahead or back in time.

8.     Switch location:  Scene continues in a different location.


Looking over the life stories from this class, various themes begin to reveal themselves to me; betrayal, friendship, single parent households, social inadequacy, anger, stress, work, fear of future, substance abuse, gang-banging, sibling rivalry. This group has given me a lot to work with this semester and they discovered that they have a lot more in common with one another than originally thought. Shared stories bring students together. The bonding process has begun.








Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development.  





Sunday, October 4, 2015

Improv Mid-Life Crisis By Michael Golding




A little over two months ago I was struck by a car while cycling, resulting in surgery to repair a fractured collarbone. A titanium plate with ten screws has become a permanent fixture in my body. Now half man, half machine, I will be setting off metal detectors when I fly in the future. If a doctor’s note isn’t sufficient for security, believe me, I am prepared to show my scar. 


 
Unfortunately, I had to postpone a trip to David Shepherd’s home in Western Massachusetts to finish his improv archive project. David is the father of modern day improvisation and over sixty years of materials from his collection were going to be donated to an institution which will be accessible to the public. For now, the project is on the back burner. It will get done, hopefully within the next few months.

A major concern during recovery was whether I would be able to teach in the fall.  The college I work for has a high school outreach program, where I teach an after school theatre appreciation course for at-risk teens who receive college credit. I was offered only one course this semester, which meets two afternoons a week from 3:30pm – 5:40pm. The objectives of the course are explored primarily through theatre games.  I was uncertain that my stamina was up to the challenge and for the first time wondered if I was getting too old to work with this age group. Weeks of pain medication diminished my focus and passion. I simply wasn’t looking forward to the class. Was it possible that I was experiencing an improv mid-life crisis?

When I addressed that concern with my surgeon, he laughed and said “unless you’re teaching gym, you’ll be fine.” Obviously the man was unaware of the population I work with, or how physical I can be when conducting a workshop. Discussing the matter with my improv friends, Shepherd, Ed Asner, Nancy Fletcher (creator of Act Now, an improvised movie format for adolescent girls) and Howard Jerome (co-creator of the Improv Olympics and Canadian Improv Games) they were unanimous in their advice; pace yourself, sit down, and bark out orders.  Brave new world for me. Anticipating the round-trip commute to the high school in Compton on the notoriously congested highway filled me with anxiety and dread. The shoulder strap across my tender collarbone still causes discomfort, especially when I make sudden maneuvers or stops.

With improv consultant Ed Asner

It was a physical challenge conducting the first two sessions, lecturing more than I usually do, which only has a shelf life of a few minutes for the students. It may look like they’re nodding out as their heads slowly slump down, but I know they’re looking at their iPhones. I can see the glow from the screens on their faces. Maybe they’re Googling me or texting what am awesome teacher I am. Exhausted, I ended both sessions a half hour early.

I can’t sit still when teaching and my healing collarbone felt the strain. Many of my movements while instructing are reflexive, such as jumping on and off the auditorium stage, which I knew was ill advised.  As much as I wanted to phone the class in, I couldn’t. The students demand moment-to-moment attention. While I have conducted these type of workshops a gazillion times before, it was clear by the expressions on the students’ faces that it was their first time experiencing a learning-by-doing approach rather than listening to a long, boring lecture and it enthralled them. It certainly kept me focused.

By sharing that I was injured and showing them an x-ray of the titanium plate and screws on my cell phone the students perceived me as a badass. I wished my shoulder didn’t look like someone threw a pair of scissors at me to gain their admiration. In turn, the students were eager to share stories of family members who had hip and knee surgeries and what they were like before and after the procedures. All great ideas for future scenes.

Does this x-ray make me look fat?

By the third session, I had more of a grasp on who the students were. There are over thirty in the class, which is not unusual. All Hispanic. Normally, there is larger ratio of girls to boys in my classes. This time out, the ratio was reversed.

The boys ooze machismo. The themes they love to explore are hooking up, going to strip clubs, scoring weed, getting high and gunplay.  Because many are hustlers and have to live by their wits on the street, they’re natural improvisers. They don’t like to stick to the rules of the games and elicit laughs from the class by mocking them. None of this is unusual. They just need a lesson in the difference between play and game. With play, you can do whatever you want. With game, well, there is a structure with rules.

It quickly became a high wire act for me. You don’t want the side-coaching to come off as a reprimand, which either diminishes their enthusiasm or in their eyes a betrayal of trust. “Hey, I was just trying to shake things up,” one student moaned when I corrected him.  Sometimes, I wait until after the session, where I start my notes off with “You’re a natural at this. However…….”

An early observation with the boys was if they don’t realize we’re engaging in a game, they organically play by the rules; listening, agreement, teamwork. For them, we’re not playing a game until we are actually on the auditorium stage. If I warm them up while they’re sitting in the audience, it becomes more personal and conversational. I discovered that with the group story game “So What You’re Saying Is.” In the game, a player starts with a simple statement (“I went outside my house for a walk.”).  Another player would begin by saying “So what you’re saying is,” repeat the sentence he or she heard, and then add onto the story. The goal is to create a story with as many players as possible, chiming in when they have the impulse.

Example:

Player 1: I went outside for a walk.

Player 2: So what you’re saying is, you went outside for a walk, so you could get away from your parents.

Player 3: So what you’re saying is, you went outside for a walk, so you could away from your parents, because they think you’re spending too much time with your boyfriend.

And so on. There are other variations of this game, but this version resonates with the students.

I was amazed by how large and extravagant the stories became. Of course, all dealt with drugs, strip clubs, hooking up and getting high. My inner monologue suggests that in future sessions I should try to steer them towards exploring other themes that might motivate the girls to jump in. Or, I may have to break them up into groups of five, rather than letting thirty students fight for control and observe how the stories develop that way. My brain was percolating with possibilities.

The girls are shy, hesitant and rarely volunteer. Yet, there is thoughtfulness in the way they play, and when partnered up with some of the boys, diminishes their overactive testosterone a tad.  My sense is the boys don’t interact much with the girls outside of class or during the regular school day, so this is new to them – working with a girl as a collaborative partner, rather than viewing them as an object.

When I introduced Blind Walk, a trust game that is fraught with dangerous possibilities, the boys were surprisingly respectful and protective of the girls. In the game the group is in a circle and a blindfolded player walks back and forth across the circle. A student in the circle has to gently stop the blindfolded player from walking into him or her, then slowly turns the blindfolded player around, makes eye contact with another student in the circle, and gently launches the blindfolded player on his or her way towards that student. The blindfolded player has to be as relaxed as possible while walking, knowing that that the circle will protect him or her from getting hurt.

I was impressed. Normally first time out with this game, players are spun around furiously before being sent on their way, students in the circle are making jokes or yelling “watch out!” or someone in the circle might start backing up, or ever worse, step aside, as a blindfolded player walks towards them. Unfortunately, that admiration was shattered when a boy was sent across the circle. Lots of ass grabbing, head thumping, and crotch smacking. It’s early in the semester.

Now, as I bravely tackle the hellish round-trip commute, my brain is on fire running over my workshop plan and the results of it afterwards. It seems like my improv mid-life crisis was premature.  I have a lot of work to do with this group, and surprisingly, I appear to be into it.


Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. He wrote and co-produced the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" (available for free on YouTube).  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development. 

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Friday, December 12, 2014

Improv Empty Nest Syndrome by Michael Golding




The danger in working with at-risk teens for as long as I have is that sometimes you forget that this is the first time they are exposed to a “learning by doing” approach and the type of interactive teacher that you are. This fact always comes back home at the last class for me, where the attendance is larger than usual.  Given the opportunity to leave early, the students choose to just hang around. They simply don’t want to say goodbye to you.

Handiwork of my class
 
The sense of finality usually hits me a few hours later, when it sinks in that I won’t see this group on a regular basis anymore.  This time, an aura of sadness enveloped me the second I got in my car to go home. While I was thrilled that my return commute on the normally congested highway was lighter than usual (and I outran an impending storm), I wouldn’t have minded a longer session and grooving on the endorphin rush a workshop leaves me with as I’m stuck in traffic listening to jazz.

This class got me through losing Willie Wyllie, co-creator of the Canadian Improv Games (CIG), and the weeks that led up to his passing when we all knew the end was near. I screened “In the Moment,” a documentary about CIG by Sandra Chwialkowska for my class.  I forgot that Willie was in the film, being interviewed alongside Howard Jerome, who co-created CIG with him. When Willie’s face appeared on screen, happy, passionate and vibrant – I almost lost it. 

The late Willie Wyllie speaking at the CIG's National Festival

The students knew about Willie’s passing, because I had to end a session early so I could get to the airport to fly out to Ottawa for his memorial. Barely a week after returning from Ottawa, Parliament was attacked by a gunman – which led to an engaging discussion in class about gun violence and terrorism, resulting in the students viewing me as a somewhat exotic person who travels to dangerous lands.

For over two hours twice a week, late in the afternoon, this class kept me focused and in the moment. Canada and my connection to CIG and Planned Parenthood Ottawa's Insight Theatre Company, which I created, became a concurrent theme alongside the goal of doing theatre. The Canadian elements came off as mythical and the connection to reality was me. After viewing the first scene from a TV adaptation of the Insight Theatre Company, where a mother and father were at odds over how to discipline a child who returned home drunk from a party the night before, the class was broken up into groups of three, where they were instructed to recreate the scene with an American, inner-city slant.

The students brainstormed the beats, based on what they just saw, and what followed were seven distinctly different scenes. One was done entirely in gibberish. Another, in Spanish. Several groups incorporated complex games, such as "1, 2, 3, Sentence" where players can only speak with one word at a time, then two, then three, finally full sentences - before reversing the order until ending the scene with one word at a time. Powerful to watch.

Poof! Students are gone!
So, as I chalk up another successful course, I’m not certain how many of my students will pursue theatre further or continue to improvise. But, I do know quite a few of them would like to visit Canada.  






Michael Golding is a writer, director and improv teacher.  He can be contacted for workshops, festivals and private consultations at migaluch@yahoo.com. Michael participated in the evolution of the Improv Olympics & Canadian Improv Games. Artistic director of the Comic Strip Improv Group in N.Y. & created the Insight Theatre Company for Planned Parenthood, Ottawa.  He is a faculty member at El Camino College in Los Angeles, working with at-risk teens and traditional students. His screenplay credits include "Celebrity Pet" for the Disney Channel and the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre."  His book, Listen Harder, a collection of essays, curriculum and memorabilia on improvisation and educational theatre, is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and CreateSpace. Michael holds a BFA degree in Drama from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts & an MA degree in Educational Theatre from NYU’s Steinhardt School of Culture, Education & Human Development.