Archive for 2010
Listening and Improvisational Theater
A friend is taking improv classes, and when we were talking about her experience, I immediately connected what she was saying to my work on listening. Of course, a major part of improvisational theater is a person’s ability to listen.
Following are some thoughts on the matter:
“One of the things I love about improvisational listening skills is the concept of the “yes.” Your job as a listener in improv is to accept all offers, say “yes” and add on. There is a habit of competitive listening in our culture that disrupts the fecundity of group thought. In improv our job is to make everyone’s offer look good – and say yes to unknown possibility.”
Kirsten Wilson, Improvisation for Work and Life: Playback Theater, Boulder, CO
The key to improvisation is the “Yes, and” principle, and it’s an idea that is particularly relevant to business. In performance improvisation it means listening to what someone else says, accepting what they say, and then building on that. In business terms it means accepting any idea that’s brought to the table and then taking that idea further.
Robert Kulhan, adjunct assistant professor at Duke University’s Fuqua School of Business and Lakshmi Balachandra teacher of Improvisational Leadership at MIT Sloan School of Management
Kuhlan goes on to say that there’s a misperception that we have to 100% correct 100% of the time. While we only have to be correct about 10-15% of the time, we do need to be listening at least 50% of the time to make good decisions.
Improv Principles – Listening
From: newchoiceimprov.com/principles/listening.html
Improv can be scary and intimidating.
That’s why this site approaches improv with an emphasis on scene and character creation, rather than emphasizing “getting the laugh”. When the performers do the work of establishing who, where and complication, the humor will appear as a naturally-occurring by-product.
So, focusing on the scene and the characters takes the pressure off of you, the player, to ”be funny”. Another way to make the improv easier is to Listen.
One of the magical effects of improv is the group chemistry and collective unconscious that develops among the players. Inevitably, someone in the game or exercise will say or do something that sparks an idea or reaction in you.
This is serendipity, the gift of improv, the valuable and lucky idea you come across by accident.
You will miss it if you are not listening.
You will miss it if your mind is racing ahead in the scene to the next time you get to say something.
You will miss it if you fail to admire the creativity of your fellow performers.
Train yourself to listen by doing the following:
- Incorporate something the previous speaker just said into your responding comment or action
- Maintain eye contact with the other players
- Expand on what the previous speaker just said
Improv isn’t about being funny or comedy; it is about being present and listening.
Sound-Pollution
I recently returned from the magnificent surroundings of Canaan Valley, WV. If you don’t know West Virginia, you’d never know where Canaan is, but think rolling mountains, lush forests, and piles of snow in the winter. With two other dear, long-time women friends, we stayed at the home of the fourth part of our group, The Babes, as my kids have dubbed us.
To say that the location is remote is an understatement. Nothing is close, there are no street lights, neighboring houses are rarely within view, and deer walk around with impunity. We took long walks, watched the US Open (I watched more TV in my time there than in the entire last year), ate and ate, and talked and talked.
One evening I went out on the deck, hoping to see a bear—not up close, but at the end of the cut lawn before the woods and drop off to the river. None appeared, or, at least, none showed itself to me.
A very interesting phenomenon occurred, though, while I was out there—the voices from inside the house sounded like choir bells—clear, uncluttered, distinguishable. For me that has become a rarity with my hearing loss from a recent car accident. Usually, even with expensive hearing aids, I miss lots of what is being said, tones are muffled, and there’s interference.
Maybe the purity of sound was the result of no sound-pollution (like light pollution—when there’s so much sound that it becomes challenging to discriminate). The air was crisp and still other than the rustling of nearby trees, so maybe the sound waves could move more freely, unimpeded by competition (you can tell I’m not an audio engineer).
Whatever the cause, I felt as though the voices inside the house floated into my prefrontal cortex with ease. The moment was as lovely for me as when I looked up at an equally unpolluted sky full of an unimaginable number of stars. I wonder just how much sound pollution we steel ourselves to and what it causes us to miss—every time we try to listen.
So what is the listening lesson? You tell me.