Improvising Myths for the Future by Michael Golding

David Shepherd believes that our expectations of the future can be explored through a myth from the past.  These proto-stories, which reside in every one of us, become relevant when improvised by a group and shared with the community.

In early 1981 at Pace University in New York, David developed “Faust in the 21^st Century,” which projected the myth into the future, to explore what use Dr. Faust would make of the Devil’s powers in his relentless search for pleasure and knowledge.  Each scene was a separate improvisation, often based on an Improv Olympics event, such as Time Dash, Space Jump, Emotional Hurdles and Sound Swim.  Players remained in the same character throughout, but they had to create a new “where” each time they walked onstage.

Later that year, in a loft in the South Street Seaport district, David worked with a group of teenagers from the Bronx to discover what Don Juan meant to them. Out of that, sprang  "Donna Juana." Encouraged by two successful experiences, David returned to Chicago to work on his next project, "Jonah Complex," where the part of God was played by his new co-producer, Charna Halpern.  Again, David employed events from the Improv Olympics to explore these myths and performances were frequently shaped by audience suggestions.

Improv Olympics events

When David returned to New York in 1983, he composed several improv manifestos, including one on exploring myths for the future, which I’m sharing here.  He is convinced that any group of committed individuals, whether they are professional improvisation players or not, can develop in detail any myth for the 21^st century.  All they need is a skilled improv coach.

I hope this encourages you to create a myth for the future with your group.

WHICH MYTHS ARE FOR THE FUTURE

By David Shepherd

In the past, myths helped people to understand where they were coming from. But, as Walter Benjamin points out in “Illuminations,” news has preempted the function of story. The 21^st century will arrive any day now, and neither the news media nor Hollywood seems able to prepare us. I see a need for myths today – this time to find out where we are going.

A man is asked by God to warn a city that it will soon be destroyed. The man refuses to carry out this mission until God forces him to confront the leader of the city. Its inhabitant’s reform, but the vengeful prophet continues to look forward to the city’s doom until God finally sends him home.  This is the story of Jonah, a public myth.

A woman believes that her family or the “system” will take care of her and takes steps getting involved in the legal and social structures that support her. When the “system” collapses, she suddenly discovers she has only one real support – herself. This is also the story of Jonah, a private myth.

I believe that myths are not legends about times past but prophecies about our lives today and tomorrow. The beginning and end of the world, transformation, conflict and resolution, the striving for a new level of consciousness – these are all myths for the future, each spotlighting an area in which our culture will either continue into the 21^st century or be transformed.   

David Shepherd (center) in Jonah Complex - Chicago, 1981.

  

Handbook for Faust in the 21st Century

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. 

Improvising over Lunch by Michael Golding

"The development of the games for improvisation are benign.  They are healthy. They are therapeutic. They are what we should all be doing. When you play, you do it with somebody else, which brings you, hopefully, closer to the other person.”  David Shepherd – 1999.

During the late spring of 2010, Willie Wyllie and I made a pilgrimage to David Shepherd’s home in Belchertown, Massachusetts, to attend a celebration of the 10^th anniversary of ACT NOW! in nearby Amherst.  Inspired by David Shepherd’s format MoviExperience, ACT NOW! is a nonprofit organization created by Nancy Fletcher, which builds confidence, leadership, collaboration and character in adolescent girls through the process of developing and shooting an improvised movie.  Included in the celebration, was a preview of two segments from the recently completed documentary, “David Shepherd: A Lifetime of Improvisational Theatre,” directed by Mike Fly, written by me and executive produced by Willie Wyllie.

Willie co-created the Canadian Improv Games (CIG) with Howard Jerome and is the organization’s CEO.  Inspired by David Shepherd’s Improv Olympics, CIG is a nation-wide program involving over 300 high schools and more than 200 volunteers who produce 100 nights of performances featuring 3,000 students. It culminates in a week long festival at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa. I have known Willie for over thirty five years, shared many adventures with him, and we are as close as brothers.

Unfortunately, Willie was at the precipice of a new chapter in his life.  As the result of health issues, he had to step down as a partner at one of Canada’s top law firms.  Unable to travel alone, I had to rendezvous with him in Ottawa, so that we could drive down to the states together for the celebration, accompanied by his portable oxygen machine – which turned out to be a great upper body work-out for me.

When I arrived in Ottawa, I expected to find Willie depressed by the change of course his life had taken.  Instead, I found the same old Willie; self-effacing, playful, and sardonic - with a penchant for putting me into situations that test my stamina and mental health.  We kept the conversation light during our long drive, primarily because Willie slept through most of the eight hours it took us to get to Belchertown. Every attempt I made to get into his head regarding his health was tactfully brushed aside as Willie fell back to sleep.  Even a sudden tornado warning, followed by torrential, apocalyptic rain with heavy winds could not rouse him from his slumber.  Bastard. I say that with love.  He was curious when he noticed the impression my hands made gripping the steering wheel and why I kept repeating “This is the Emergency Broadcast system. This is NOT a test. Repeat.  This is NOT a test.”  
  

The celebration was a success. Willie and I were pleased by the enthusiastic reaction the clips from the documentary received.  David Shepherd was in the process of overhauling his latest format, Life-Play and wanted our input.  Created by David, Carman Dewees and Chris Britt, Life-Play was designed as a series of theatre games to be played over the phone.  Several podcasts were produced, utilizing a variety of Life-Play games. Entertaining to listen to, yet David felt something was missing.  The three of us agreed to have lunch together the next day to brainstorm.

That night, Willie and I were up until dawn hammering out different ways to approach Life-Play.  Willie’s sleep cycle is unlike that of us mere mortals.  He can stay up for days, while being perfectly alert and cogent.  This is usually followed by being unconscious for days.  I now refer to this as “Willie’s hibernation cycle.”   By the time rays of sun beamed through the windows of the inn we were sharing, I was begging him to allow me to finally sleep.  He reluctantly acquiesced, then worked on the format for a few more hours.

Refreshed by two and a half hours of sleep, I awoke at 8:30am to discover Willie sitting in a chair with a bowl of cereal on his lap, wondering if I was going to spend the entire day in bed.  As we drove to David’s house to pick him up for lunch, we agreed that if the essence of Life-Play is about exploring one’s life, then the improv coach (known as “the guide” in Life-Play) must gain as much information from a player about their life before commencing.

At a Chinese restaurant in Amherst, David wasted no time cross-examining Willie with questions that have been on my mind from the start of our trip; “Why did you retire?  How do you feel about it? How do you envision your future?”  Willie was honest and open with David.  “I felt that I couldn’t compete, anymore.”  This admission was followed by fifteen minutes of Willie addressing David’s other questions.  I was hanging on his every word.

When it came time to discuss Life-Play, I asked David if we could demonstrate the refinements that Willie and I were talking about, rather than tell him.  Of course, David was up for that.  Turning to Willie, I asked if he was willing to play, with me as his guide.  To my surprise, he said yes.  I decided to start with Repetition Poem, where a player is given an emotion and a repetition line for his poem.  What stuck out to me when Willie was telling David about his situation was how he kept going back to “I couldn’t compete, anymore.”  So, the repetition line I pitched to Willie was “I can’t compete, anymore,” tempered by resignation as his emotion.

By the end of his poem, David and I learned a lot about what led up to Willie’s decision to retire.  Because he was no longer at the top of his game in negotiating and drafting complex legal contracts, Willie felt he was letting his partners, clients and firm down.  On top of that, he felt that he was living on borrowed time. With each breath of “I can’t compete, anymore,” Willie’s defenses dropped incrementally.

Surprisingly, Willie was up for another game – again, with me as his guide.  I chose Zoom Story, where the player is given an opening line as a springboard for a story.  During the course of the story, the guide can direct the player to “zoom in” on object, feeling, environment and action – while continuing the story.  Since Willie’s Repetition Poem ended with him doubting that he would be around much longer, I decided to set the story twenty years in the future.  The opening line I pitched was “I was sitting in my chair.”

By this time, the lunch crowd was gone from the restaurant, and it was just the three of us.  In his Zoom Story, Willie envisioned himself as a withered, infirm man.  His youngest son Joel comes for a visit and Willie is thrilled to see him.  He attempts to get out of the chair to greet him, but his arms can’t support his body.  Joel anticipates this, and rushes over, embracing Willie, so he doesn’t have to struggle. By guiding him through the changes of emotion, object, environment and action, David and I felt Willie’s frustration with his failing limbs, the scent of the chair he spends most of his time in, how his clothes felt on his body, his exaltation upon Joel’s appearance, and the comfort his son’s embrace gave him.  Despite his physical state, Willie was able to revel in the emotions of joy, pride and love.

When Willie finished his Zoom Story, I asked why he chose Joel out of his three children as the one who visits. “Because Joel is mini-me.”  Then, Willie told us a story we never heard before.  Years ago, Willie’s lung capacity dropped to a life-threatening level and he had to be put into an induced coma.  Things went from bad to worse when his physicians couldn’t get him out of it, and a couple of months later, it seemed like Willie would not survive.  His wife, Sandra, was told by the doctors that Willie had only 24 hours or less to live. Two hours later, Sandra found out she was pregnant with Joel.  Miraculously, Willie woke up from his coma after having a dream about attempting to board a train, with the conductor turning him away because “it wasn’t his time.”  Opening his eyes, Willie saw two framed pictures next to his bed.  One was a picture of Sandra with their two children, Bethany and Ben.  The other was a silhouette of a child with the phrase “Coming soon.” In his opiate caused stupor, it took hours for Willie to realize it wasn’t a movie that was coming soon.

My last observation about Willie’s Zoom Story almost became a bone to pick, with me.  “Let me understand something.  You have yourself on death’s doorstep with your Repetition Poem.  I give you hope by adding another twenty years with Zoom Story, and you undercut it by being infirm. What’s up with that?”  Willie counted off his various conditions, which included severe fatigue due to leukemia and severe chronic nerve pain (the result of his near death experience 12 years earlier).   He was being realistic.

Just then, Walt, David’s 74 year old friend dropped by with his wife to say hi.   Walt apologized for missing the impromptu improv cabaret party we had thrown at David’s house the other night, because he was too ill after a chemo treatment.  Willie was surprised by this, because Walt is a strong, vibrant man who appears to be the epitome of good health. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you need chemo for?”  Smiling, Walt responds “Lung cancer. Twenty years ago my doctors gave me five years.”  Willie is intrigued. “What do you attribute beating the odds to?”  Walt points to his wife. “This woman. No treatment is off the table.  Every once in a while I need chemo, I get sick, then, it’s business as usual.”  Willie didn’t say anything after that, but I knew the wheels were turning. Call it serendipity, coincidence or just plain stupid luck. I am grateful Walt showed up when he did.

As we left the restaurant, Willie admits that was the first time he had improvised in twenty years. “Why did you decide to play, today?”  With a matter of fact tone, Willie replied, “Because I trust you.”  My cell rang as I opened the car door.  It’s my wife, Jody, calling from our home in Los Angeles. She was just in a car accident, the adrenaline rush had worn off and she needed to hear her husband’s voice.  As I comforted Jody, Willie took the car keys out of my hand and opened the back seat door for me.  I slid in; Willie got behind the wheel and David got in the passenger seat next to him.  Off we went.  Apparently, my job as a guide was not done for the day, yet.

Epilogue:  Willie went into a 36 hour hibernation cycle that night, where no force of nature could wake him. I was beside myself with worry. When he finally awoke, he was ready for the next leg of our trip, which was New York – and was wondering why I looked so stressed.  The last thing I said to David before we left was “David, you were there at the beginning of my friendship with Willie, and now you can say you were there at the end as well.”

I could see David laughing in my rear view mirror as we pulled out of his driveway.

Hanging after Act Now! celebration.  Left to right; Howard Jerome, David Shepherd, Michael Golding & Willie Wyllie.

Willie Wyllie, Michael Golding & Nancy Fletcher, founder of Act Now!

Life-Play handbook. 

http://www.slideshare.net/cdewees/life-play-ehandbook

ACT NOW!
http://www.actnow-online.org/

Canadian Improv Games
http://improv.ca 

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. 

David Shepherd's Anthology of Improv Formats

Years ago, a publisher suggested to David Shepherd that he put together an anthology of improv formats that were developed, tested and produced over the decades through his organization, Group Creativity Projects.  David felt that non-professionals should be the target audience.

Shortly after the publication of his book, “That Movie in Your Head” a guide to improvising movies, David recruited me to work with him on the anthology.  Unfortunately, after some initial work, conflicting projects put the anthology on the back burner.

In addition to outlines, interviews, notes and one full chapter, I have David's forward to the anthology in my archive files, which I'm sharing here.  As always, it’s filled with unique Shepherd improv insights.

David Shepherd’s Forward to Format Book - 9/2002

Improvisation has rushed like a tide across the cultural landscape of the United States.  This has happened since I produced the first store front cabaret in Hyde Park, Chicago – 1955.  It was called COMPASS because I wanted to explore how social values evolve generation by generation.  It was improvised because no one we knew could write the material we needed.

100 years ago improv would have attracted serious detractors – those who demanded conformity, who refused to let the point of a scene or the moral of a story be discovered.  After all, they felt, if you want your appendix out, you don’t ask the surgeon to improvise.  Paying customers back then felt that whatever they paid to see on stage or screen, in novel or poetry, should be set.  Some writer should put out some energy to justify charging for a ticket! The pauses and contradictions of real life should not be tolerated on the professional stage.

I believe that everyone can improvise, that people follow improv procedures in their daily lives:

• They relate strongly to their environment.
• They express a feeling of the moment.
• They respond to those around them.
• They choose a goal subconsciously when joining a group of people.
• They work on accommodation, skillfully molding many relationships.

But in fact, a very small percentage of the population conspicuously takes the opportunity to improvise – whether with a comedy troupe, an experimental theatre, a dance group or a musical ensemble. Many feel that improvisation is too silly for them or too forbidding. They like being spectators; they don’t want to be seen because they haven’t put themselves in the hands of a Coach.  And they haven’t explored other jobs – from Sound to Costume, that need to be filled to make an improv performance complete.

Historically the first step in the development of the improv company was to design and manage it well enough so the audience would pay for it, which happened in 1955.  The next step is being taken now: getting the customer onto the stage and making his or her experience good. The third step will be to develop so many improv formats the audience has many choices: night by night they can see a different form of improv – and get involved, if they wish, as story teller, director, tech or player.

Sampling of Shepherd formats.

Imagine having a nearby facility where on Monday nights you can join a musical ensemble and on Tuesday a group that shoots video movies. On Wednesday night you’re free to join a team playing a theatre sport, and Thursday you can guide players performing in front of a video project. Depending on which format is the most popular, Friday is reserved for improvised poetry while Saturday is political satire – all achieved through guidelines and games.

That’s what this book is about: formats you can use in your town to create in the mode that suits you best. They are laid out here in a way that, we hope, makes them accessible to you and your group, be they friends, co-workers or family.  We give you an overview of the format, and then offer you activities that prepare you to master the format.  Since 1974, Group Creativity Projects has been making it possible for non-professional groups to create their own novel, newspaper, cabaret, movie, theme party, performance sport, radio program and interactive TV show.  When couch potatoes want to get off their couches, Group Creativity Projects is there.

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.

Layers by Michael Golding

Frequently, when I do workshops with experienced improvisers, I’m surprised that they don’t take advantage of all the necessary skills for a successful improvisation.  Some books on the market make improv sound more complicated than it really is.  The terminology may change over time, but the skills remains the same; listen, agree, explore where, imbue objects with qualities, be in the moment, be real, support fellow players, be emotionally sincere.  

Page from 1982 Improv Olympic program

Often, I find improvisers in scenes talking about the where, objects and emotions, rather than showing them. For a time, I taught skills workshops, with an emphasis on the aforementioned areas.  Then I hit upon a more interesting approach for myself and students; scene workshops with side-coaching.

A few years ago at the Canadian Improv Games National Festival, I conducted a scene workshop with a group of teenage players from Australia. They were a fascinating group to work with; sardonic, self-effacing, and uninhibited. After a group warm-up, I had them fill out who/what/where scene cards. My only guideline was that the scenes be grounded in reality.  After collecting and reading out the cards we started to put them up on their feet.

The first scene took place in a lifeboat with a boy and girl who had just escaped from a sinking ship.  The first minute of the improv was filled with snappy one-liners, sexual innuendo and a lack of regard for the laws of physics. Entertaining, in a surreal way – but it was time to add on some layers.

My first direction forbids the two from talking.  They can only use non-verbal sounds.  I then had them focus on the lifeboat.  It’s bobbing all over the place because of the harsh ocean and becomes particularly unsteady whenever one of them stands up or tries to move.  Then I had them focus on the temperature – which was frigid. How does that affect your breathing and movement?

The tone of the scene changed instantly and I allowed them to talk.  The conversation was much more realistic.   Using inner monologue, I had them get in touch with what they were feeling at the moment.  Fear and anxiety was at the forefront. Once those feelings were acknowledged, I had them go back into the scene – which now had a more poignant layer.  As the boy operated the oars, I had him focus on the pain in his shoulders, arms, and how the skin on his hands were burning.  Hunger began to overwhelm the two.  I had them focus on that sensation in their stomachs and how to express it in their movements and speech.

In the last thirty seconds of the scene, I had the players focus on an object; a discovered frozen solid chocolate bar. With amazing detail, the boy painstakingly unwrapped the bar, with the girl helping him so he could pull the wrapper completely off.  As the boy broke the bar in half, the girl hungrily licked the inside of the wrapper. They then huddled together, biting down hard on their chocolate bars. The chewing appeared painful and excruciating.  Without any prompting, the players watching provided the ending.  Several made the sound of a horn blowing from a ship, with another yelling out “Ahoy there!”  The two players on the boat looked towards the sound of the ship with hope. Perfect. Scene!

I allowed the players in the workshop to side-coach the next series of scenes, which focused on school, dating, working out, and parenting.  Whenever a scene began to falter, a direction focusing on feeling, objects or exploring the where, got it right back on track.

Then, the group did something unexpected and extraordinary.  They started side-coaching with various games, while still focusing on feeling, objects and the where.  Games that I originally found to be somewhat simplistic now had more vibrancy. The players provided me with another way I could approach side-coaching skills.

My workshop approach has often been described as “old school.”  As I transition from young improv whipper-snapper, to honored elder, I’m okay with that.  My “old school” teachers were David Shepherd and Paul Sills. In the improv community, my mark will never have the same impact, or be as lasting as theirs.  But I’d like to think that whenever I get improvisers to focus on the where, objects and feeling, I’m honoring their legacy, and hopefully providing young improvisers with something “old school” to think about.

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. 

David Shepherd's Three Things I Learned Coaching

This is an excerpt from a coach’s handbook David Shepherd put together in 1982, when he was producing the Improv Olympics with Charna Haplern in Chicago.   His suggestions are still relevant to today’s improv scene.

Players need your encouragement to assume a full and active role in team play.  How can you help?  As players arrive to practice, ask them what situation and what character they want to play.  Each player should know not only what she/he wants, but also what teammates expect.  Base the session on those needs.  FOR INSTANCE:  One night a player came in with the humiliation of being sold a fake 19” color TV set for $98.  We used this experience as a base for a Work Put event (to show the street corner con), Silent Wrestling event (the 2 minutes after she tells her husband) a Song event, and Moral Lift  event (team explains the meaning of what it’s done in the preceding events).  After an hour of play the player felt better because she now understood why she allowed herself to be cheated.

The brains of those who are not playing often go to sleep -- because of anxiety or excitement.  CURE:  Ask every player off-stage to choose both a sound effect and a “cross over” role to support the main section.  For instance, suppose the audience wants to send two lovers in a Space Jump event into “high grass under a harvest moon.”  Then each of the other ten players will be ready with the sound of a cricket, while thinking “what role can I play to enrich this improv?  Does it need me to be a big sister, a mother, the man’s last lover, a dog, a cat, the woman’s neighbor, etc.?”  Players doing “cross overs” do not stay on stage to monopolize the scene.  They add an appropriate note and leave.

God Squad at the Chicago Improv Olympics

Practical Women at the Chicago Improv Olympics

Improvisations succeed on their feet, die sitting down.  How to keep players moving?  Never stop creating and relating to imaginary objects so the environment becomes real.  Find a mutual focus (like a fly in the soup), and then “go to the walls,” expand the “where,” to find the things in the environment that can enrich the improvisation.  SIDE COACH: i.e. to make suggestions during the improvisations. Example: “Go in…find a focus…do it together…find more details…good…now go to the walls...find something in the outer environment, both of you…good…now go in again…”  Make sure your players are using all five senses to explore.

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 Responsive Scene by Michael Golding

The odyssey of an audience-participation format that started on stage, evolved into a radio show, then found new life in the classroom as both.
 

In the Beginning - Responsive Scene on Stage

Howard Jerome Gomberg (cast member):

Responsive Scene began in 1971 as a stage show  entitled “Show of 1,000 Dreams” at 13 West 89th Street.  The format we used was called a “Vertical Soap Opera.”  On stage we created an apartment complex, with different people (gay couple, blue collar worker, etc.) in various units. Throughout the course of the show, we would visit them at different times:  “Now we go to apartment 3B. A married man was out all night and has just come home to his wife.”  Then we would play that scene.

First time I remember an audience member becoming part of the show was when we were exploring the theme of eviction.  In the scene, the landlord started coming on to the tenant.  An audience member suddenly yelled out “I want to be in this scene as a cop.”  So, he came on stage and we played that scene, which became about flushing things out.

Responsive Scene at the Manhattan Theatre Club, 1971. Members of the audience move into a scenario they suggested; “Turning on.” First a cop, then his captain and finally the chief of the police force.

David Shepherd (producer, director, cast member): 

I envisioned stage action that was an intimate part of the spectators’ impulses, desires and satisfaction. At COMPASS, audience suggestions were encapsulated in one sentence: “Do something about mercy killing.” Now I wanted the audience to ride the improv beat to beat until it ended.  We even had a direction: FIND AN ENDING.  I felt emotion was adulterated or phony on stage: hence the MORE EMOTION direction.  Games were designed that would plunge players into a bed of characters. Emphasizing differences of pace and volume. Use of sound effects.

Peter Waldron & Lynn Bernfield act out the suggestions of residents at the Coronet  Nursing Home in Brooklyn, 1972 . They asked to see a young, hip couple get married, have children (quadruplets) and set up a kosher home. They directed Peter and Lynn moment-to-moment, gave the five children names and found an ending for the scene.

David Shepherd:

When six of my students played the Queens House of Detention, we asked for 20 men to train in the morning.  Because I had such confidence in my students, I didn’t come until after lunch.  By about 1pm there were 60 men in the audience-a third of them familiar with the process.  It was a good tactic since only a few people knew who had been trained; if the inmates balked at a suggestion, one of the trainees popped onto the stage to do it.  The show moved rapidly, with female players cast in scenes with men.

One scene was placed in the front seat of a Buick, where Penny Kurtz rolled down an imaginary window.  The inmate was outraged: “That’s not where the window handle is on a Buick”, he shouted triumphantly. Later a Doctor showed up and was cast in a scene with an inmate.  He was prescribing a giant pill.  When the direction came “Switch Characters,” as an inmate he had to hear how powerful this pill was, how it would cure all his aches and pains, and he had to pantomime swallowing it.  The inmates enjoyed switching characters more than any other direction. 

Responsive Scene at Queens House of Detention, 1971.  Penny Kurtz (left) & Bob Aberdeen (right) train 20 volunteers to run a session that afternoon for 85 inmates.  They asked to see a Prison Doctor and an Inmate, & repeatedly gave the signal "Switch Roles.

Howard Jerome:

At L’Oursin in Southampton I remember a scene we were given to play about selling refrigerators in Hell.  I was doing it with Robin Mide, and it was going down the drain.  Just before it died, we got the direction to Add A New Character.  Robin walked into the audience and took the hand of a woman who was standing there, moving alone since the man she was with didn’t pay attention to her.  Robin replaced me with this woman, after which the scene became less about refrigerators and more about their new friendship, which worked.

It was at L’Oursin that we suffered a “brown out,” which happens just before a power failure.  Can you imagine a stage suffused in brown?  About 8:30pm brown turned to black, and we were preparing to tell people to drive home when customers offered to illuminate the action with beans of light from their cars.  We rolled back enormous doors (L’Oursin had been a boat yard before) and several cars drove up and criss-crossed their beams over the splintery stage area.  This light show was more impressive than our show even, which we picked up again and finished.  We got a long, complementary review from News Day Newspaper.

 

The Joker nightclub in Rockland Country, 1971. An audience member joins Duncan Fife, Robin Sands & Claire Michaels on the dance floor to play out a wild party.  When we blanketed the improv with the sound of loud dance music, nothing was lost.

Responsive Scene on Radio 

David Shepherd: 

We ended up on radio because Howard Jerome was friendly with Bob Lifton, who was a producer at WRVR-FM.  At the time, the nostalgia bandwagon was bringing back scripted radio theatre.  I felt that listeners should be able to create their own soaps.  So, I pitched Responsive Scene in one sentence: Listening audience creates a dramatic radio show.  The cast fluctuated, because there was always a pool of players to fill slots in any program we devised.  We approached each show without fear because the home audience had been alerted to what we would do.  I learned right off the bat that emotions are doubly important when an improv cannot be seen. We made plenty of mistakes, but the audience lit up our switchboard nightly (ten lines) and we got to feel like an institution. 

Responsive Scene Radio Show 1972. Left to right, Penny Kurtz, David Shepherd, Howard Jerome and Lynne Bernfield.

Michael Golding (caller):

At 14, I was addicted to midnight re-broadcasts of “The Shadow.” Being able to actually “see” a story in my mind was a new and incredible experience for me. Then, one week a commercial for Responsive Scene aired (“You supply the audio, we’ll supply the video.”).  I remember tingling with excitement after hearing the spot. The first time I listened to the show, it was like experiencing true magic.  Amazing that these on-air actors could conjure up an entertaining scene just based on a who, what, where outline.  Finally summoning up the courage to call in a suggestion, Bob Lifton walked me swiftly through the guidelines then put me on hold as I listened to the show over my pounding heart.  Moments later, I was on the air with Howard and immediately he made me feel comfortable. My scene was about a pizza boy delivering a pie to the wrong address – a woman on a diet.  Howard asked if I would like to play the pizza boy and surprisingly, I said yes.  Skills I never trained for before came into play – listening and teamwork.  Two minutes later the scene was over and my self-confidence levels went off the scale.  Afterwards, I called my two best friends, David and Eddie to let them in on my new magical discovery.

Throughout the summer, David, Eddie and I phoned in suggestions every week, alternating between playing and directing.  By the third week, we were “regulars.” We would have story conferences every week and spent many hours visualizing what all the Responsive Scene players looked like. When the show ended its run in the Fall, I remember being devastated.

Bob Aberdeen (cast member):

In six months of calls, we had only one really nasty suggestion from a man so high it was obvious that he was not himself.  A Jamaican woman called in once to object that her husband was romancing a woman the night before, when she came home to the apartment after work. We did that scene. Fifteen minutes later, a man with a Jamaican accent calls to object that his wife doesn’t understand him. He has been counseling his young cousin in his home, with no subterfuge, and his wife barges in and makes a commotion. We did that scene, too.

David Shepherd:

The thing about directing on radio is that (primarily) one person gives all the directions. There’s consistency in the improv because one person feels responsible.  With the stage version, the audience input should be by a cluster of three people who either volunteer or are selected in advance.  I want spectators to stay on top of the scene as it develops, but I don’t want them to be treating players like puppets – unless everybody agrees that comedy and gross humiliation is in order.

Sheldon Biber (cast member):

One week a caller phoned in with the suggestion: Son of a fireman keeps pulling false alarms. Howard Jerome played the fireman and I was the son. The first minute of the scene was riddled with cliches and one-liners. Howard and I were really struggling. Then Penny Kurtz chimed in with the direction: “Play it for real. Because I don’t get the sense that the father is angry or that the son realizes how serious this is.”  Suddenly, the scene had a deeper and richer meaning and it gave me and Howard more conflict to play off of.

The Responsive Scene Radio Show with Penny Kurtz & Howard Jerome, 1972.

David Shepherd:

At WRVR, scenes started and ended much more easily than on stage because of Lifton’s array of sound effects. Scenes could be finessed gracefully with a simple drum roll or gong.  Listeners began to phone in scenes with specific cast members in mind.  One memorable scene involved Howard Jerome playing all three bachelors on “The Dating Game.”

Responsive Scene in the Classroom
 

Michael Golding:

A couple of years ago I was teaching a theatre arts course for the Downtown Business Magnet High School in Los Angeles.  The class was composed of 40 at-risk students.  Due to a plumbing problem, the class was re-scheduled to a smaller space and I couldn’t use my original workshop plan.  So, I decided to give Responsive Scene a shot. 

I presented the format as something everyone participated in – whether they were playing or watching.  It was something THEY were in control of.

The students had already been trained in the basics of improv, so I briefly ran the scene and directing guidelines by them.  I handed out index cards and within minutes we were reading through 40 scene suggestions.  We had time to play 4 of the scenes with the students reluctant to direct at first.  I directed the first scene pretty much by myself, but was sure the students knew how it worked.  During the second scene I would periodically stop the action then ask for suggestions from the class where the scene should go.  By the start of the third scene I asked students by name what they thought should happen.  The rest of the third scene and all of the fourth was directed by the class without any prompting from me.  When the session bell rang, the students were begging for more.

Responsive Scene is a great way for me is to get to know my students better.  I ask that all their scene and character suggestions come from their lives or something based in reality.  It’s also a wonderful device to keep 40 students simultaneously focused for 75 minutes.

For Teachers:  Uses of Responsive Scene

To Explore       Roles

                        Themes

                        Diversity

                        Complex issues

                        Problem solving

                        Group creativity

Michael Golding:

With the mock radio show version, I had to exorcise a lot of the base tendencies from my students because you can do a lot of suggestive stuff with just sounds.  Most of the early scene suggestions had to do with sex or some form of humiliation.  So I initiated a rule – any scene I deemed questionable because of its inappropriateness had to be performed by the writer of the scene. That cleaned up the suggestions pretty quickly.

Most volunteers wanted to be the MC.  They had a lot of fun inventing patter – particularly warnings: “We don’t want your sick imaginations, so take them into the bathroom and do your own show in the shower.”  We warmed up a lot on tape – like having a player come up with a half dozen characters, then associate each a sound.

The great thing about the mock radio version is that is provides the students with complete anonymity – whether they’re playing or doing sound effects.

The playback is particularly important afterwards, because it brings the class together as a group and provides a nice closure for the session.  Shy students who are barely heard when they speak in class are loud and clear on tape.  The microphone really is an intimate device.


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. 

Interview with Larry Mollin (Homemade Theatre)

Larry Mollin is a TV writer/producer whose credits include “Beverly Hills 90210,” “Renegade” and “Knight Rider.”  Homemade Theatre was the creative partnership of Larry Mollin, Phil Savath, Barry Flatman and Fred Mollin.  During the 70s in Toronto, the quartet had their own fully-funded theatre, and produced “Homemade TV,” a CBC-TV series that ran for three seasons.  In 1974, Homemade Theatre produced the first Improv Olympics in Canada, with professional and amateur leagues. 

This interview was conducted in 2004 by Howard Jerome and Michael Golding, as part of a proposed book on the history of the Improv Olympics.  

Larry:  I think it was probably in 1974 or 1975 we met Howard Jerome and David Shepherd and we put together our version of the Improv Olympics – which was kind of slick, with a score methodism, scoreboard, crowds, teams – the best professional actors we could find in Toronto at the time including Delroy Lindo, who narrowly lost. And I remember some of the events we used were Silent Wrestling, which was a one-two minute event between two people. Two people played on each team. You would pick a situation out of a hat which would say “You just got the news that your mother had been hit by a train.” Some kind of terrible news that was beyond words. So in other words it was a silent scene where you had to communicate in a way what was going on and get your intentions across.

Howard: Was it then about indicating or raping on things?

Larry:  It was emotional and it was played naturalistically, because we were professional actors. We did not get involved in the amateur version. This was not Psycho Drama.  This was purely for paying audiences seeing professional actors.  Theatre companies from all across Toronto put teams up. It was a real prestige event in a sense that everyone wanted to be involved in it. It ran for a few nights until the finals. At the final show we gave a cup, which we called the "Stanley Slotzky Cup.” I believe it’s now sitting in someone’s storage room.  I’m trying to remember some of the other events.

Howard: Well, let me remind you. There’s Emotional Hurdles…

Larry: Right, right. Where you have to jump emotions. Go from like happiness, to sadness, to jealousy, to fear. You were given a course which you had to navigate through in a realistic way.  I’m not sure if there was text there which you had to incorporate.  What else?

Michael: Time Dash – where you go from one time period to another.

Larry; Don’t remember that.

Michael: Space jump – where you go from one location to another.

Larry: No.

Michael: Character Relay – where you switch characters back and forth through the course of the scene.

Larry: That one sounds familiar. I think we would do a scripted scene – like a “Three Sisters” scene and do the rotation that way.

Howard: Was any of this stuff archived, or documented on video?

Larry:  All this stuff was video-taped on that wonderful format – quarter inch reel to reel video. I’m sure the footage exists somewhere. I remember that the audiences really liked what we were doing. It was a big theatre community event. Audiences were excited by the competition – which was all good natured. There really was a good spirit associated with the whole event.   A lot of fun. A lot of good energy from the community.

Michael : How did you train for the Olympics?

Larry. I don’t remember. We were all skilled improv performers. We also all taught at various schools. We knew what we were going for. We just did it.

Michael: How did you come about working with David?

Larry: We didn’t really work with David.  We brought him up to kind of honor him. I remember he came up with Howard. I don’t remember him being involved all that much with what we were doing.  We were all a tight group and were pretty sure of what we were doing. We probably wouldn’t have listened to David anyway.  We were kind of an arrogant bunch. Still true. I believe David did some workshops for our Festival of Improvisation. We did a show also called “Babes In Lottery” – it was part of this festival. We had a crazy Argentinean who did a one man show. Still run into him out here over the last twenty years. He’s a repressed Chilean artist.

Howard: Where would you like to take this Michael?  Because obviously the connection with David was not huge.

Larry; No, it was actually more with you. We flew him up once and paid his expenses and he did a thing for the festival.

Michael: I thought it was interesting that you equated David’s working with amateurs as Psycho Drama.

Larry:  Well, David is a better person than we are.  He cared about people. We cared about acting. He was involved in fixing people and solving their problems through improvisation.  Using improv as a way to loosen blocks and build community. We were a bunch of jokers basically. We were good at what we did. We were talented.  I think we were afraid to use improvisation in a real way because we knew it’s a powerful tool. We didn’t feel qualified I guess. You can hurt people.  I still feel that way. It makes me nervous when people try role-playing. Psycho drama. Very distrustful of that stuff – it’s very dangerous.

Howard: Do you think it’s psychologically dangerous?

Larry: Yeah – you can really hurt people’s psyches. 

Howard: I’m trying to piece this time-line together. The Olympics David and I developed  in New York, at the Space for Innovative Development in ’72, was different from what we did in Toronto in ‘74.

Larry: Well, we refined it. We probably ripped some stuff off of David and he ripped a lot off of us.  These were our events before they were his.

Howard:  So, we brought the idea of the Olympics to Toronto, the who/what/where format and you added a more theatrical component to it.

Larry: That’s exactly correct. We were theatre people. And we wanted to make it an audience-fun event that they could watch and was played by professionals.  Emotional Hurdles, Character Relay – we took these games, gave them form and catchy names.

Howard: Your version of the Olympics was the best example of the format I have ever seen.

Larry: We had great actors.

Michael:  How long did you do the Olympics?

Larry: We were always doing improvisation formats, but I think we did the Olympics just for that one week festival in 1974. But maybe we did a tour that was hosted by Canada – around ‘76 or so.  A touring event for Ontario then working with theatre groups doing improv. I have a vague memory of that.

Michael: Do you still use improvisation today?

Larry:   Sure. I’m basically a writer. There’s a big improv  element to that. Story. Thinking about characters. Stuff like that.  It’s just in my head.

Michael: Do you watch any of the popular forms of improv today?

Larry: Sure. Drew Carrey is doing essentially what we did almost thirty years ago. It’s good. People like it. Larry David’s show is great.

Howard: Have you seen the veritable plethora of improv sketch shows and competitions that are on now? It’s really interesting. They have the Improv Comedy Play-offs. There’s a group of our former Canadian students doing a TV series called Sketch Troupe. They’re springing up all the place.

Michael: Cheap to produce.

Larry:  Sure.  I’m a little skeptical of them. They don’t seem like real improv. Maybe they are.

Howard: That brings up an interesting question. What is real improv?

Larry: What we did was real improv.  Which is kind of dangerous, taking risks. A real sense of failure.  Scary.

Howard: I remember some of the crazy audience formats you did Like “Disaster Land” and the one about the cruise ship.

Larry:  “Holiday Cruise.” It was improv in that the audience was involved. The situation was scripted. There is a great story about opening night for the show. The woman writing the newspaper review panicked because terrorists board the ship at one point. She  gave a terrible review.  But all those shows were improv on a different scale.

Howard:  Which seems to have proceeded the way for other popular audience participation shows. Like “Tony N’ Tina’s Wedding.”

Larry: Those shows are highly profitable. Since we were all working on grants, we weren’t allowed to make money.

Howard: I still haven’t made money off of improv.

Michael: If you did the Olympic version you did thirty years ago today, would any part of it have to be changed or adapted?

Larry: No.  The format is ageless.  I don’t think anything would have to change.

Michael: Do you remember what the judging criteria was?

Larry: Not sure. I know we had the top Toronto theatre critics as judges.  I think it was all about good acting.  We were all artists. What’s the criteria now?

Michael:  Teamwork, how well the theme was explored. Feeling. Character and space work.

Larry: That sounds like what we were probably scoring on.

Howard: There seems to be a shift in improv over the years from structured forms to more free form styles.

Larry: I’ll agree with that.  To me improv is where you have two people on stage interacting with each other. It’s as simple as that.

Video of Homemade Theatre's Improv Olympics - Professional League

https://vimeo.com/15702806 

Video of Homemade Theatre's Improv Olympics - Amateur League

https://vimeo.com/15466515 

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.