The Heart of Improv

I have been practicing long form improv since January 2018. My improv story began when I wandered into a beginner workshop at Curious Comedy in Portland following a sign that said "free improv class here". I loved it instantly and indelibly.

Long form improvisational comedy, if you don’t know, is an ultra-collaborative improv theater style in which players use audience suggestions to make up a series of interconnecting funny scenes (like you would see in a play, though not necessarily with a traditional narrative arc).

I had wonderful, wonderful teachers at Curious. I also watched a lot of improv that, quite simply, blew my mind with a great intensity of delight. It made me laugh so hard and I would just sit in the audience in awe, wondering how on earth these people could be so magically hilarious and heartfelt and wonderful and and and. The improvisers I loved were like gods to me.

I love improv for a lot of reasons. I am going to share some of my thoughts about improv here in a series. Most of these posts are adapted from class emails I wrote for a course I just taught at Santa Barbara Improv called Foundations of Long Form Improv. I found that I had so, so, so much to say on the topic.

In a chat with my friend and multi-modal creative healer counselor collaborator musician artist improviser friend Zöe Dearborn, she suggested that rather than feeling bad about having so, so, so overwhelmingly much to say I should just let myself say it, somewhere.

Then I remembered LionSong is a place where I can say all the things!

So here goes (in the next series of posts). Some thoughts about Improv, the philosophy and feeling of it, & why I feel it is a deeply needed, deeply revolutionary, deeply healing art form that I cannot recommend highly enough. As a path to true, deep collaboration, the joy of co-creation in real time together with loving, capable others, and as a way to realize how much play has to do with what we all are, by nature.

Read the first post in this Improv series here.

Thumbnail image respectfully borrowed from The Wonderful Things You Will Be, by Emily Winfield Martin.

ImprovHolly Mae Haddock