I Hate My Mother's Cooking by Michael Golding

Several years ago, I had a ten month assignment at New Village Charter High School, the first all-girl's charter school in California.  It was one of those rare occasions where I was hired because of my background in Educational Theatre.  The school board wanted someone who had a successful record working with at-risk teens.

With a mostly Latina population, these at-risk students came from backgrounds that included pregnancy, prostitution, carjacking, assault, rape, robbery, and gangs.  Many had not been in school for years.  Some got lost amongst the vast populations of their high school, and chose to enter a school with a smaller population and class size.  While most could return home to their families after school, others were wards of the state or parolees who lived on campus at St. Anne's, a social rehabilitation center for young women.

 

Emphasizing process over product, my curriculum utilized the experiences of the students as a springboard for the scenes, themes, characters and issues that were explored through improvisation.  Although I was not opposed to eventually doing a show, my goal for the school year was to guide the students towards becoming comfortable with each other and hopefully, me, allowing a sense of trust they never experienced before in other classes.  Through the rules of improvisation, the rehabilitation of their damaged interpersonal social skills could begin.

The sizes of the classes were ideal for me - twenty students, at most.  However, some of my best sessions occurred when I worked one-on-one with a student.  Since my classes were one of the few on campus that consistently had laughter emanating from the room, I frequently had "visitors" who were mostly other students not enrolled in my course, and who were curious about what was going on and wanted to watch.  I was fine with that, as long as they adhered to my main rule:  If you were in my class, you had to "participate," which didn't necessarily mean performing, but you would be expected to contribute scene suggestions, possibly direct, and participate in discussions.

Yvette was a frequent visitor to my class.  On the surface, she was vivacious, confident, outgoing and upbeat.  Despite those attributes, I could never get her to play.  Many students considered improvising as “being put on display" - running the risk of being humiliated in front of their peers.  Others, who grudgingly agreed to play, frequently tried to barter with me: "Mr. Golding, can't I just do it sitting here at my desk? Why do I have to get up in front of everyone?  I'm not an actress!"

Over the course of her guest appearances, I learned that when Yvette was twelve years old, her father left her mother for another woman and moved to New York.  Yvette, whose self-worth was based solely on her appearance, would only see her father a handful of times during the year.  She frequently boasted that she had a great open relationship with him, and he was always commenting on how hot she was.  Yvette was very proud that he recently had told her that she had "great tits."

After the winter break, I noticed a distinct change in Yvette's behavior.  She was quiet, sullen, and her visits to class decreased.  I knew that she had gone back east to visit her father, whose wife had just given birth to a baby girl.  Yvette hated being an only child, and often fantasized about having brothers and sisters, and she was excited about meeting her new stepsister. When I encountered her in the courtyard, I asked how the trip had gone.  Her father told her that it was time to move on and distance herself from him so that he could focus on his new family.  His new wife felt Yvette was an interloper, forcing her husband to live in the past.  If Yvette truly loved her father, she would give him his space.

Shortly after I learned this, during a student free day, Yvette came to visit me and Kimberly, an English teacher I shared a room with.  We got into a discussion about favorite meals, where I discovered that Yvette’s mother was a "horrible cook" and the only meal Yvette could stomach from her was scrambled eggs.  The two fought all the time - particularly at breakfast.  Yvette described her mother as "career obsessed."  There were also various tenants in the house, who Yvette described as "weird and smell bad."

 

Since there were only three of us in the room, I asked Yvette if she would be willing to explore what we just talked about in a scene.  Surprisingly, she agreed immediately. After some debate, we decided that Yvette would play her mother and Kimberly, who had a theatre background, would play Yvette in a scene that took place at breakfast.

Throughout the scene I threw in directions such as "inner monologue," what is your character thinking now?, "five second delay," wait five seconds before responding to other player, "no talking for thirty seconds," take in the moment and absorb what you're feeling, and "explore activity," can you show me what you are feeling through the activity of cooking, eating and cleaning up?

After about ten minutes of role-playing, I stopped the scene so that I could interview the two in-character.  As I observed Yvette in-character, her mood, body language and energy seamlessly changed.  As the mother, she admitted being unnecessarily hard on her daughter as a result of overwhelming responsibilities, and that she desperately needed supplemental income from boarders because the ex-husband didn't provide financial support.  Kimberly, in-character as Yvette, confessed that fighting was the only way she could get attention from her mother.

Next, I interviewed the two as themselves over what they experienced and discovered in the scene.  Yvette was surprised by how easily the words and mannerisms came to her as the mother and that the scene was right on target with how they related to each other at breakfast.  Kimberly discovered that her focus was on playing Yvette sincerely, not as a parody - which she could have easily done for humorous effect, and was surprised by how effortless it was for her to get inside Yvette's head, particularly when I threw out the “inner monologue” direction.

After that, I decided to go for broke.  I asked Yvette if she had shared with her mother what her father had told her during the last visit.  She hadn't.  I asked why.  "Because I didn’t want her to hate him more than she already did."  So, I had Yvette and Kimberly role-play one more time, but with Kimberly as the mother.  Yvette took a deep breath and slowly revealed what had happened.  Kimberly listened honestly, and responded with one simple line: "I am so sorry that happened to you, it must have been devastating."  Yvette replied with "It was!" then threw herself in Kimberly's arms, sobbing real tears.  Kimberly held her tightly, as she whispered “It’s okay. Let it out.”  After a few moments, I got up and gently put my hand on Yvette's back, and the three of us were quiet for what seemed like an eternity.  Then, Yvette broke the silence with "That was great! Can we do something different, now?"

Several days later I found Yvette leaning against my car as I prepared to go home.  As we talked, I was pleased to see that her upbeat mood and energy had returned.  Yvette wanted to tell me that she had discussed the scene with her mother and as a result, the two seemed to understand each other a little better.  They were not fighting as much over breakfast.  She also revealed what her father had said, and the mother surprised her with "Now we both know what it's like to be hurt by someone you love."  To assuage her fear, the mother said she didn't hate him, because that said more about her than him, and while clearly disappointed by his actions, she wasn't surprised. "His loss."

Beaming with pride, I told Yvette that was great, gave her a hug and got in my car.  As I drove away, Yvette screamed out "There's still no fucking way I'm going to eat anything other than scrambled eggs from her!"

Noted, Yvette.  Noted.

Yvette's make-over vision for Mr. Golding. Gold tooth is a nice touch.

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" (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.


 

Fool's Paradise by Michael Golding

Apparently, most fourteen year old boys are into sports.  I had an improv group.

In the Fall of 1972, The Responsive Scene, an improvised radio show produced by David Shepherd, (co-creator of Compass, the predecessor of Second City) ended its run.  Responsive Scene involved the listening audience, who called in with scene suggestions for the studio actors to improvise.  Being a regular caller to the show, I was devastated.  For three months it had been a weekly outlet where I was allowed to be a performer, writer and director.  Now it was over.

From a WRVR-FM press release

 

Responsive Scene Radio Show. Left to right; Penny Kurtz, David Shepherd, Howard Jerome & Lynn Bernfield

Then, I got a call from David Shepherd.

David and Howard Jerome, the host and one of the performers from Responsive Scene, had developed a new format called the Improv Olympics, which they were about to unveil.  David wanted me and my friends to participate.  The format was a “performance sport” where teams of actors improvised scenes competitively.

 

1972 Improv Olympic playbill.

Winning team congratulate themselves.

 

Within a few months, I formed my first improv group – Fool’s Paradise – a moniker Shepherd hated (“It sounds like you’re mocking yourselves!”). We competed every week at the Space for Innovative Development in Manhattan, the first home for the Improv Olympics. The highpoint came when we started beating the adult players.

Fool's Paradise improvising at the Space for Innovative Development.

Fool's Paradise beats David Shepherd's team.

There were two versions of Fool’s Paradise.  In junior high, it was me, David Hasson, his sister Robyn, and Eddie Ben-Menachem.  The second, in high school was me, Steven Blance, Mark Traub, Bruce Herman, Heidi Adelman, Debbie Triolo, Sheree Givre, Martha Orellana, David Oberon and Eric Mortensen.  There were also friends who attended workshops or participated in a one time project; Seth Newman, Robert Socolof, Susan Israel.

Fool's Paradise - Bottom left to right; Mark Traub, Michael Golding. Middle; Sheree Givre, Martha Orellana, Debbie Triolo. Top; Bruce Herman, Steven Blance, David Oberon.

From 1972 through 1976, “Fool’s Paradise” continued playing in the Olympics at the Space for Innovative Development.  Alumni from Compass and Second City would frequently come down to the Olympics to be guest stars and I was fortunate enough to watch and sometimes play with Barbara Harris, Andrew Duncan and Marty Friedberg.

Improv Olympic directing suggestions.

Improv Olympic Player's Contract.

Fool’s Paradise had a separate life away from the Space for Innovative Development.  Rehearsals usually took place in the basement of my home, where we played a variety of Spolin games to keep ourselves sharp – or mini Improv Olympic matches.  Then we started having “improv theme parties.”  First, we started with roasts.  Each month, a member of Fool’s Paradise would be chosen as the man/woman of the hour.  Then we moved on to a talk show format, set in the future, where all of us would be famous and in our thirties.

Fool's Paradise for hire.

We had an improv club in high school, composed entirely of Fool’s Paradise members.  Our company played at assemblies and parties.  Our greatest achievement was a ninety minute show at the West End YMCA in Manhattan, which was a combination of games and scenes developed through improvisation. There was also an homage to Nichols and May, where we reenacted the telephone operator scene.   As was the case with the Improv Olympics, a section of our show involved improvising with members of the audience.

West End YMCA show. Heide Adelman & Eric Mortensen as over-anxious shoe salespersons, with the author as customer.

West End YMCA show. Fool's Paradise watches cautiously as two audience members improvise.

West End YMCA show.  Fool's Paradise member Bruce Herman (left) improvises with audience member.

West End YMCA show. Mark Traub & Heidi Adelman reenact Nichols & May telephone operator scene.

 

David and I developed a mentor/protégé relationship, resulting in spending time at his home in Greenwich Village.  One summer, several of us spent a weekend at David’s country house in Armonk, experimenting with improvising video movies.  Our parents were either very trusting or naïve.  It was one thing for us to hop a subway in Queens to go into Manhattan and play theatre games with some old hippies.  Now, a bunch of us were going away for a few days with this guy who wasn’t a family member.

Experimenting improvising movies.

 

As a result of our experiments with video, David loaned me his equipment so we could make a Fool’s Paradise movie.  Seth Newman, a friend who was not a member of my troupe, had an idea for a movie about a man obsessed by the Kennedy assassination to the point where it interfered with his life.  Together, we outlined the beats for the story, Seth took the directing helm, and the rest of us took on serious acting roles.  The end result, “Forgotten Memories,” a tight sixty minute movie that impressed David no end, since he frequently viewed us as teenage jokesters.

By the time we graduated high school, Fool’s Paradise was over.  Several of the core group went out of state for college.  Steven Blance and I frequently joked about a Fool’s Paradise reunion.  Unexpectedly, during my senior year at New York University, it happened.

Mark Traub, who was also attending New York University, had a video project to shoot – a game show parody called “Beat The Punch.”  He recruited me, Steven Blance, Bruce Herman, and Robert Socolof for the cast.  When we got together in the studio, Mark presented us with his idea, but there was nothing on paper.  At first I thought “this isn’t like Mark to be unprepared,” then realized Mark choose the right people.  Within minutes, we hammered out an outline, established the beats, improvised a few ideas, and then shot the concept.   “Beat The Punch” involved a host giving two contestants the opening line of a joke (“How do you make a gypsy omelet?) and one has to yell out the punch line first (“Steal two eggs!”)

Steven was the host; Robert and I were the contestants.  We decided to use the game “One Second Behind” where one player says exactly what the other has said; one second afterwards (like an echo).  Robert gave the correct punch line first, followed by me giving the same exact punch a second later, behaving as if I came up with it first.  We kept cracking up and had to reshoot the sequence several times.

At a diner after the shoot, I told Steven that we finally had the Fool’s Paradise reunion we always fantasized about.  Steven replied, “It was also our final performance.”

Well, yes – and no.

A little over twenty-five years later, I was conducting a private workshop in North Hollywood.  I had recently reconnected with Martha Orellana on Facebook, discovering that we both lived in Los Angeles.  Martha showed up at the workshop, where we played Emotional Hurdles, one of the events from the Improv Olympics.  In many ways, it was a surreal experience – but it filled us both with joy.

When my father passed away last year, the first few friends who reached out to me with condolences were members of Fool’s Paradise, several of them showed up at the funeral, wake and my family’s house.  One of my brothers noticed that when we interact with each other, we’re not merely talking.  We do characters, pantomime, sound effects.  It’s just second nature to us. It’s how we’ve always related to each other.

Some members of Fool’s Paradise look back on those years as an interesting period, which ended after high school because it was time to grow up.  But whenever I talk on the phone with one of my friends from that period, or get together in person, it’s like the “play switch” is suddenly turned on.

Personally, I don’t think it was ever turned off.  Hopefully, it never will be.

David Shepherd setting up a scene for Fool's Paradise member Mark Traub.

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. 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.


 

The Comic Strip Improv Group (Improvising with Robin Williams) by Michael Golding

From 1983 to 1985 I conducted workshops and directed shows for the Comic Strip Improv Group.  Since 1976, the Comic Strip, now known as Comic Strip Live, has been one of the top comedy showcase clubs in New York, where stars such as Jerry Seinfeld, Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock and Adam Sandler honed their skills.

The group was originally started by Steve Shaffer, but overseeing a pool of sixty comics while pursuing his own stand-up career quickly proved to be overwhelming.  Gabe Abelson, a mutual friend and comedian who I had worked with before on several off-Broadway revues, brought me in to take over the group.  The immediate challenge was to change the standup comedian’s mindset of being on one’s own, to relying on others as part of an improv ensemble.  This was accomplished through weekly three hour workshops during which I assaulted the comedians with a barrage of techniques from Viola Spolin, David Shepherd, Keith Johnstone and a few formats of my own design.  I was impressed by how the comedians threw themselves into the workshops, including the seasoned acts, who were interested in broadening their repertoire.

Still, there were a few in the group who were uncomfortable with acting, who abhorred some of the “touchy-feely” exercises, and who preferred to participate in formats that relied on their verbal skills.  These formats included: (1) Expert, in which the audience provided a topic for a comedian to do a monologue on, followed by follow-up questions from the audience;  (2) Man In The Street, which involved a comedian playing a tv news reporter, interviewing various characters on the street concerning a topic given by the audience; (3) Round Table Discussion, in which four comedians were cast by the audience as famous characters from history or literature, with another moderating the discussion of a controversial topic which was also selected from audience suggestions and (4) Commercial, in which the audience provided a name, purpose and tag line for an object that a comedian would then improvise a commercial for.  Sometimes I chose two comedians for Commercial, forcing them to collaborate and, dare I say, act.

Author at the Comic Strip.

For the comedians who had theatrical backgrounds, I threw them into formats that explored emotions, status, and imaginary objects.  Slow Motion Commentary became a personal favorite for those who excelled at pantomime.  In this game, the audience would suggest a common household activity that a comedian would execute in slow-motion, as two other comedians off-stage provided the commentary akin to a sports event.

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Three nights during the week, I chose six comedians from the core group to perform in half hour sets of various games.  We were decades ahead of Whose Line Is It Anyway?  Andy Ashe, the club pianist who was a classically trained musician, provided the atmosphere for some of the games.  Since the performing skills of the group were diverse, I always tried to match players who could compliment each other.  There is a big difference between a comedian and a comic performer.  The former goes for the one liner.  The latter will always try to get a laugh from the humor of the situation and character. 

Comic Strip Live audience.

Once a year, through improvisation we developed a full length show.  Each show bore the stamp of one of the personalities from the group.  “The Mickey Davis, Jr. Telethon” was the brainchild of Ron Zimmerman.  A deeply bent parody of the Muscular Dystrophy telethons, the goal was to wipe out death in your lifetime.  Incidentally, Ron created “Ledge,” one of the darkest improv formats around at the time. There were three players in the format – a person who was on a ledge of a building contemplating suicide for a reason which was provided by the audience.  One comedian played the devil encouraging the person on the ledge to jump. Another comedian played the angel trying to change the person’s mind.  Ron frequently played the devil, Barry Neikrug the angel, and soon the byplay between the two became the highlight of the evening.  It was like watching two Jazz musicians jamming.

Bill Masters & Ron Zimmerman; The Mickey Davis, Jr. Telethon

“A Day In New York” was Steve Shaffer’s baby, which was a series of sketches and songs based around life in the big apple.  “The Laff Maker” was mine, a rags to riches story of a comedian’s ascent, and inevitable downfall. 

"The Laff Maker" was the first time I developed a show around a personality, Hiram Kasten, and it was his energy that successfully propelled the production.  Hiram, unbeknownst to many, had a strong theatrical background, and his performance blew the minds of many in the comedy community who were unaware of the depth of his talent. 

Stu Trivax, Rob Ross & Cathy Ladman; A Day In New York

Steve Hytner & Hiram Kasten; The Laff Maker.

At the time, no other comedy club was doing what we were doing.  Many of the performers in my company at the Comic Strip have gone on to work professionally in film, theatre and television, including Susie Essman (Curb Your Enthusiasm), Steve Hytner (Seinfeld, Hung), Janette Barber (Rosie O’ Donnell Show), Bill Masters (Grace Under Fire), Dom Irrera (Aristocrats) Gabe Abelson (David Letterman, Jay Leno and the Tom Green Show), Wayne Federman (Late Night with Jimmy Fallon), the late Dennis Wolfberg (Quantum Leap), Allen Enlow (Sopranos), Joe Bolster (Academy Awards) and Cathy Ladman (Roseanne).  Chicago City Limits frequently invited members of my group to be guest stars, performing a stand-up set, followed by improvising with the company in a series of games.

Allen Enlow & Joe Bolster; The Laff Maker.

Wayne Federman; The Laff Maker

Cathy Ladman, Susie Essman & Wayne Federman; A Day In New York

Johnny Solomon; The Laff Maker

Steve Shaffer; A Day in New York

Gabe Abelson & Patty Rosborough; The Laff Maker

Barry Neikrug ; the Laff Maker

Joe Vega, Rob Ross & Steve Shaffer; A Day in New York

Allen Enlow & Marian Allen; The Laff Maker

Steve Hytner, Hiram Kasten & Nancy Redman;The Laff Maker.

We had frequent guest stars of our own:  Eddie Murphy, Carol Leifer, Rick Overton, Sam Kinison and Chris Rock.  But it was Robin Williams who had the strongest affect on the group – both good and bad.

Robin was in Manhattan shooting “Moscow on the Hudson.”  By day, he worked on location.  At night, he hit every comedy club and improv company in town.  He was everywhere.  We were all thrilled when he first started playing with us, but that dissipated quickly as certain elements became painfully apparent.  From the moment he set foot on stage, the audience didn’t care about the rest of us.  If you were in a scene with Robin, he was leading.  A few of my players who had the improv chops to keep up, would sometimes mistakenly think they were in a teamwork situation, until Robin would whisper “Just follow me.”  That’s when it became apparent that Robin wasn’t doing true improv.  He just took his vast repertoire of characters and one liners and threw them into every situation, whether the scene warranted it or not.

Robin Williams & Jeannie McBride

Dennis Wolfberg playing Expert as Robin Williams watches.

I mustered up the courage to talk to Robin about some of these things and surprisingly, he was gracious and accommodating.  He agreed to only appear in the last third of the set, and I started pushing him towards verbal based formats where he just had to rely on himself.

There were nights when he would come just to watch and sit in the dark on the side of the room so the audience wouldn’t notice him.  He often made a point of talking to some of the members of the group after the show, expressing how he liked what they did on stage.  For many, having someone of Robin’s caliber complement their work, was a magnificent ego boost.  I had some wonderful conversations with Robin about the work I’d done with David Shepherd and Paul Sills.   Paul found himself in a similar situation to mine when Robin was a guest star in “Sills & Company,” an off-Broadway show consisting of Spolin games performed by original Compass and Second City cast members.  Paul had to quickly put the brakes on Robin doing whatever he wanted to on stage, and forced him to learn the games.  Paul once said to me that Robin was a “brilliant hog.”

Wayne Federman improvising with Robin Williams

Dom Irrera & Robin Williams improvising.

One night while I was introducing the improv set, there was an audible gasp from the audience followed by thunderous applause.  I knew immediately it wasn’t for me.  Robin simply walked on stage, slid his arms between mine and proceeded to unbutton my shirt as I continued to talk.  As his hands reached down towards my fly, I pulled myself away and bellowed “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re in for a treat.  Robin is going to play a game by himself called “Silent Wrestling,” which is a situation beyond words.  Let’s have a suggestion for why Robin can’t talk!”  Silent Wrestling was originally an event from David Shepherd’s Improv Olympics.  It is an extremely difficult game which forces the player to focus primarily on activity and space without any recourse to verbalizing.

Silent Wrestling Event rules

 

As Robin glared at me, I took the suggestion “Man comes home drunk in the middle of the night.”  I beckoned Andy Ashe to come on stage and accompany Robin on the piano.  I then reminded Robin once again “Remember, you cannot talk!  You can make non-verbal sounds, but you can’t talk.” 

Robin is no slouch when it comes to pantomime. He was brilliant at trying to put the key in the door, stumbling into the living room banging into various pieces of furniture, and almost urinating in one of the potted plants.  His work was exquisitely detailed and vibrant.  Rather than relying on non-verbal sounds, he made up his own non-verbal sound effects which immediately got laughs from the audience, particularly when he kept stepping on his cat.  

Then, he cheated.  Periodically, he would turn his head and do the offstage voice of his wife, who was wondering what was going on downstairs.  Soon, he had his children do the same, eventually getting into a dialogue with their mother.   As we kept glaring at each other from across the stage, my expression said “You prick.”  His said “What?  My character isn’t talking.”   The scene ended with Robin curling up in the cat’s litter box.  I had to admit, it was a brilliant one man performance.  As Robin bounced off the stage, breathing hard and sweating profusely, he grabbed me and whispered “That was hard!”

We talked about the format for a bit, as well as other events from the Improv Olympics.  Robin’s improv background doesn’t follow the path of discovering the discipline through group activity.  Growing up as a single child with hardly any friends, Robin entertained himself in the attic by making up characters interacting with each other.  So, he’s really a one man improv ensemble, relying on nobody else but himself, which is sort of antithetical to improv.

The last time I saw Robin, I gave him one of the old format books from the Improv Olympics. Robin thanked me, anointed me as the "Improv Sensei," and disappeared into the city, hitting at least several more clubs, cabaret and theatres before the night was out.

Robin plays Expert, as Rob Ross, Dennis Wolfberg, Lisa Mende, Abby Stein & Ron Zimmerman wait - and wait.

By the end of my tenure at the Comic Strip, I was burned out and it was time to move on, although the club has always remained my second home.  There is a common misconception that comedians are aloof and self-centered, but I found the comedians I worked with to be warm, loving, inclusive, and always looking out for each other.  I was an outsider, yet from the start, they embraced me and instantly made me feel welcomed.  Aside from the workshops and shows I ran, my fondest memories come from hanging at the bar watching the Tonight Show or Letterman as one of the members of my troupe were having their first national tv exposure.  Not a day goes by when I’m watching tv, that some member of my company doesn’t pop up on screen.  Smiling, I close my eyes and I’m back in that dim, dark, musky environment reeking of cigarettes and beer. The Comic Strip still intoxicates and excites me.

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 New York & 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.


 

 

Off The Cuff With David Shepherd by Michael Golding

David Shepherd is one of my oldest friends.  I’m not referring to his age, although he is approaching Jurassic status. Our friendship passed the forty year mark last year and I’m grateful to still have him in my life.

From the documentary "David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre" 2009. 

For those of you who are unfamiliar with David, he created Compass, the first improv theatre company in the United States with Paul Sills.  Compass was the predecessor of Second City.  David also created, with Howard Jerome, the Improv Olympics, which influenced the birth of the Canadian Improv Games and i.O.  That’s just two of the dozens of formats he has created over the past sixty years.

Several years ago, David broke his hip and spent a couple of months in a convalescent center undergoing physical therapy.  At the time, we were working on his new format Life-Play, a series of games designed to be played over the phone.  His misfortune became an opportunity for us to play more frequently, testing and re-designing the games, while creating new ones.  Most of our sessions were scheduled in advance.  Other times I simply picked up the phone whenever I had the urge to play.  David was always game, even once when he was on the toilet waiting for a nurse to retrieve him.

With Howard Jerome at the Canadian Improv Games National Festival, 2002.

One time I suggested we forgo the games and simply play a scene about two characters having a conversation on the phone.  David decided that gay marriage should be the theme.  Together we conjured up a scenario where we were a couple, and I was out of town tending to my mother’s funeral in Florida.

The scenario began with us amicably checking in on each other.  Just the usual small-talk long-term couples have.  As our conversation progressed, delving into more personal issues, David became increasingly hesitant and evasive, especially when I mentioned how much I missed him and couldn’t wait to get home.  “There’s no reason to rush back, Michael.” he said coldly.

My heart began to beat faster.  “What’s going on, David?”  The silence on the other end of the line felt interminable.  “Michael, I’ve had a lot of time to think while you’ve been away.  I feel our relationship has come to an end.”

Improvising with David in Belchertown, Mass - 2010.

My fury was real.  I couldn’t believe he was breaking up with me over the phone!  I accused him of being a coward, waiting for me to be safely out of town before being clobbered by the bad news.

David admitted that one of the main factors in breaking up was that he wanted to have children, something I could not give him.  I pleaded that was nonsense, we could adopt.  That was not sufficient for David.  He wanted a child that came from his own loins and he had found a woman who was willing to provide him with one.  That was too much for me to handle and the scene ended after I yelled out “I’m hanging up on you!” Scene!

Silence followed for about thirty seconds.  Then, with a sense of relief in his voice, David confessed “That was weird.”  I agreed and we started evaluating the scene.  From my perspective, I approached the scene as someone who missed his companion, and was sincerely waylaid when it became a break-up scene.  Didn’t see that coming.

Defending himself, David reasoned that he was afraid because of my “volatility” and felt distance was the safest way for him to be honest with me.  That hurt.  “When have I EVER given you cause to be afraid of me?  And incidentally, you decided it was a good idea to tell me you wanted to have kids for the FIRST TIME EVER in our relationship as I’m cleaning out my dead mother’s condo?”

We fell right back into the scene.  For another ten minutes.  After that round, I was emotionally exhausted.  David was ecstatic.  “That felt more real!  It was juicy! What did you think?”

I exhaled my opinion through clenched teeth.  “I think you’re an asshole and I can’t believe I wasted the best years of my life with you.”

David bellowed a bombastic “HA!  Beautiful!”

After we hung up, I looked at the phone and said “Yeah, laugh it up Guru-boy.  Wait until my lawyer gets his hands on you.”

Occasionally, I’ll participate in the weekly Life-Play conference call, so I can play with David.  Since our experiment, whenever someone pitches “gay couple” as our relationship, one of us will invariably ask for another suggestion, adding “That scene has been played.”

At the 2011 Boston Improv Festival with David, Howard Jerome and Nancy Fletcher.

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.