Angela Dee, a fellow New York improviser, discusses one of her favorite group games The Quest. Although I spent years performing the KROMPF improv form, the quest was really not something we focussed on when we performed group games. I think it’s a type of group game many improvisers don’t have in their repertoire, or even know exists and one they should think of adding.
One thing to note, Angela explains The Quest group game is “pretty plot-driven which a lot of improvisers worry about” being that most of the times in scenes, we want to stay on game and not follow plot. However, in this context we are talking about plotty in the sense of having a narrative, not in the sense of the absence of game. We still want to follow the game of the scene, although those scenes are part of a greater narrative context.
Last year I was lucky enough to be invited to do the Gator 600/performance class at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I don’t know how that happened (I think a little birdy said a little something to a certain someone, but he flat-out denies it). It was one of the best classes I’ve ever taken and it changed the way I played. I wish Ryan Karels and Neil Casey would teach more than they do, dammit!
One of the many great things about The Gator (the “Krompf” form as taught by Ryan and Neil) is a group game called The Quest.
How is it that no one knows about this game? It is frigging excellent!
First off, I should say that group games are a complete mystery to me. Basically, I had a crash-course in them with my 301 class and we touched on them in one of the eight 401 sessions I had, but other than that I’ve basically been winging it ever since. Gavin Speiller used to teach a Group Game 501/ASH which I really wanted to do, but it doesn’t seem like he does those anymore and, other than that, it seems like group games are not really a focus at the UCB (might be a good elective for someone to teach… hint, hint). So, when we set out to learn The Quest in the Gator class, I was excited!
The Quest is an improv take on Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey — If you haven’t read it yet I highly recommend his book The Hero with a Thousand Faces.
It is pretty plot-driven which a lot of improvisers worry about, but when it’s done right it is magic. It is a great game to play when a character needs to do something very important — i.e. save someone, find something, get home, etc. There are 7 steps to the game:
Back in 2008, a fellow traveller on the long road of improvisation came to me, or I came to him, probably at McManus Cafe and he or I asked if it would be cool to write some posts on Improvoker. Being the kind-hearted soul he or I am and not wanting to let this labor of love die, he or I agreed. A few weeks later Matthew Stillman created his first post on The Note That Sent Me Further On a Voyage of Discovery.
Feeling the thrill that writing about improvisation can instill, he then came to me (this part I remember) and asked if he could write a 10 posts on the 10 commandments and how they related to improvisation. Being the open-minded man I am, and realizing Matt was the sort of crazy who could flip and cut a bitch, I agreed. Matt quickly wrote 2 posts covering Commandment 1 — I am the Lord your God&Commandment 2 — You shall have no other gods before me. Both fantastic posts, both interesting takes on improvisation.
Then Matt stopped writing his posts and started his turbulent addiction to crystal dolphin figurines. Or so I thought… turns out Matt took all his awesome ideas he was writing for no money or recognition here and instead wrote a book A Funny Thing Happened at Mount Sinai – The Ten Commandments as a Guide to Improvisation.
I know what you’re thinking, what a selfish jerk right? Well, the guy’s got to eat right? More importantly those crystal dolphin figurines don’t grow on trees. I’ve ordered my Kindle version, but it is also available for the iBooks, Nook, formatted PDF, and in olden-timey printed variety. I will be sure to give my impressions of the book after I read it. It’s not every day you get to have a hand in inspiring another improviser… either him or me.
Ok kids, it’s that time once again. Time to spend 3 days in the sweltering underworlds of long form improvised comedy dungeons; forsaking your family, friends, children, and jobs to find out once and for all if a drug addicted maniac’s vision of art has made the world a better place. In other words…
Del Close Marathon 13!
As I missed last year’s marathon on account of a self enforced –improv sabbatical– I am really looking forward to this years festivities.
Unlike years past when I would give you long lists of things to see and places to go, I’ll deviate and instead say have fun. Experience everything and get sweaty and disgusting.
My one word of advice is treat DCM like a camping trip and get stuck in, forsaking showers and food – your improv will thank you.
I’m planning to be updating throughout the marathon with updates so stay tuned, but for the real story, make sure to check out the official DCM twitter hashtag #DCM13.
Going through my improv notebook today, I found a wonderful description and questionable diagram from an improv 401 class I took with Billy Merritt back in 2007. The illustration depicts what Merritt described as the “Secunda Argument Wheel” lovingly named after his Swarm teammate Andrew Secunda.
What the digram illustrates, rather comically, is the idea of resting the game (point of interest, contention) and exploring something else in the scene. Returning to that point of interest heightens the scene and also rewards the players with a powerful pattern to play with.
I wish I had remembered this diagram last year when I took a class with Secunda, as I have no idea how he would react to anyone naming something the “Secunda Argument Wheel.” Although I do remember that Billy Merritt did preface the SAW as something he admired in Secunda’s playing.
If we hear about a retaliatory “Billy Merritt Wheel”, we’ll let you know.
Thank You Robot member Matt Little shares his thoughts on making assumptions over asking question in improv.
It’s a common thing to do — when we’re presented with an idea that’s foreign to us, we request clarification. We ask what the person meant. We ask if we can do a thing. We ask what the rules are. We ask we ask we ask. In life, an inquisitive nature is fantastic, even encouraged (sometimes it even gets you a million dollars).
But when we’re on stage, that’s not the time for questions OUTLOUD. It’s the time for assumptions.
I watch a lot of very talented performers stop scenes dead in their tracks to ask questions. In essence, what we are doing when we ask questions on stage is asking permission to present the idea we have in our heads. But here’s a secret — you already have permission to present that idea by the very fact that you are on stage.
An improv audience is great because they ASSUME that you know what you’re doing when you step up. As such, you should ASSUME that you have the answers to any question you are about to ask. You may sound a little more forceful on stage than in IRL, but hell, if you can be a bit of an asshole anywhere it’s on stage, right? Also, by making an assumption, congratulations! You’ve also made a DECISION.
So this year, I thought I would give you all a wave and say have a great marathon. I really don’t have much more to say regarding all the insanity that goes on. I’m a little bummed Weirdass and Wicked Fuckin’ Queeyah aren’t around this year. They were always the backbone of the DCM for me, but there are still some amazing shows like:
