Wednesday, January 30, 2008

30 Ways to Think Foolishly

Here's a list I used for a workshop I taught at QuestFest two weeks ago. I'm still developing these concepts, subtracting some and adding more. I'll explain each one in more detail over the coming months, but feel free to guess what each one means and then try to apply some to a problem or creation.
  1. Get Caught-up in the Moment
  2. Make Problems
  3. Imagine the Worst
  4. Repeat the Same Tactic
  5. Use More Effort Than Necessary
  6. Persevere
  7. Prepare for Something Else
  8. Don’t Solve the Problem
  9. Add More Obstacles
  10. Treat Objects as Alive
  11. Treat People as Objects
  12. Imagine the Impossible
  13. Try the Impossible
  14. Compromise the Impossible
  15. Make Yourself Laugh
  16. Overreact
  17. Under-react
  18. Act Improperly
  19. Do What You're Not Supposed To Do
  20. Act Crazy
  21. Change Identity
  22. Do the Opposite
  23. Misinterpret/ Misunderstand
  24. Do the Impossible
  25. Follow the Rules
  26. Do things Backwards
  27. Use What's Available
  28. Take things literally
  29. Transform Objects
  30. Expand Space
Foolish Question: How can you use one of these to think foolishly about something you're working on?

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Don't Solve the Problem

This morning, I was working on the beginning of my show, where I enter through the curtain opening and get my thumb and then hand tangled in the curtain. I am trying to get on stage so that I can put signs on an easel and start the show.

In past performances, I tried different tactics to get untangled until I have found one that works. Then I went to the easel and put the signs on, causing the poorly assembled easel to collapse.

Watching other performers in the past few months, I noticed they sometimes share this same pattern: do something, discover problem, solve problem, do something, discover new problem, solve problem, and so on. This rhythm can work fine, but there can also be a repetitive nature that lacks a build-up of dramatic tension.

What if the earlier problem or problems did not get solved? What if you still tried to reach your goal with the first problem still hanging around your neck?

In rehearsal this morning, I tried to get untangled, and when that just made things worse, I gave up on solving that problem, went as far as I could downstage with my right hand still caught in the curtain, and reached as far as I could with my left arm to put the signs on the easel, which of course collapsed. I used my feet to pick up the easel, put the signs between my legs so I could reassemble the easel with my left hand, and I noticed that my right hand had gotten free while I was preoccupied with the easel.

For me, this was much more interesting than the previous version. It was also more fun and challenging. Next time I'll see if I need both hands to get the easel back together and if my hand can stay stuck even longer.

Foolish Question for your physical comedy routine or even for a problem in your life that needs solving: Do you really have to solve this problem to reach your goal? How can you move forward with this handicap?

Friday, December 7, 2007

The Guy Who Needed Exercise


This was the first of my short silent comedies shown before major motion pictures around the U.S.

I had been contacted by Wit's End Productions, asking if I had any one-minute silent movies ( I had made a longer silent movie for their comedy film and video festival). I said yes, but give me two weeks. I then madly started work on this demo movie. I built it around a routine/gag I do in my stage show, where I attempt to jump rope on a circus globe. When I perform, many people think the globe is an exercise ball, so I used exercise as the theme. I made the ball gag the ending, and with the premise that I read a book that said I would die if I didn't exercise, I built up to the end.

I shot about an hour of footage in one day for this one minute. They liked the movie and I got a contract to make 11 more in 11 months. It turned out to be a lot more work than I thought it would be.

The complete collection is available on DVD at silentcomedies.com.

Foolish Question:
How could you translate something you created for one creative medium into another?

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Reality... What a Concept

"'What kind of man are you?' he asked. 'I am a clown,' I said, 'and I collect moments.'"
—from The Clown by Heinrich Böll

What's really happening?

When I played with the "fools notice what others overlook" game from the previous entries on "Inventing Theatre Games and Exercises" (read parts one and two before you read this post), I ran through the activity of entering, juggling plungers, and exiting. The next time, when I paused after juggling the plungers with plastic handles, I noticed my hands hurt. I had not noticed this stinging sensation the first time, although I'm sure it was there.

It's a little detail, not really important if my goal was to show off my meager juggling skills. But that's not my goal. I love these little moments, because they are true and human and unexpected. Most of the time we gloss over them. Instead of moving on to the next trick, I could stop and react to the pain. I could try to solve the problem and make my hands feel better. I could struggle with another trick because of the pain. To me, this is much more interesting than just juggling.

Like a fool, notice what really happens between the lines of your routine, script, improv, painting, process, or even life event. What can you do with that information instead of ignoring it?

Monday, November 12, 2007

Invent Theatre Games and Exercises Part 2

So, I start with the question from the first part of inventing games and exercises to jump-start my drained battery: What problem would you like to work on, what goal do you have, or what concept would you like to play with?

In the spirit of this blog, let's say I want to practice thinking foolishly. To be more specific, I'll pick one of Roger Von Oech's tools (as listed in the previous entry, Think Like a Fool), fools notice things others overlook. Now I have to turn an abstract, intellectual concept into a physical exercise and I do this by asking questions:
Why do others overlook things? Why do I overlook things?
  • Their point of view is limited.
  • They look at what they are comfortable looking at out of habit.
  • They limit what they look at so as not to be overwhelmed.
What image associations do I have for the word, “overlook.”
  • Looking out into the grand canyon.
  • Looking over a four leaf clover.
  • Wearing blinders.
How can I notice things others overlook?
  • Open my eyes wider, be aware of things in the periphery.
  • Change my physical relationship to the world.
  • Take more time with each thing I encounter.
I pick taking more time as the basis of this exercise, but now I need some structure. Where will I play? What will I play with? I limit my choices to increase my freedom (which is a future blog post unto itself). I have backdrop curtains set up in my rehearsal studio. I will enter through the curtains, pick up three plungers, juggle them, and then exit. That's the activity. Step one is to run-through the activity. Step two is to run through the activity again, but to stop before, after, or in the middle of each action and take the time to notice at least three things I didn't notice the first time. If it's a repetitive action, I can keep repeating it until I notice three things. Step three is to do this again and find more things I didn't notice the first two times.

I can use all the senses, not just sight. The things I notice don't have to be anything profound, just stuff I didn't notice before. I try this exercise and come up with a step four, which is to act on what I notice. I enter and see that the three plungers look like bowling pins lined up, and I somersault towards them as if I am a bowling ball. From here, I begin to get ideas and develop material.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Invent Theatre Games and Exercises Part 1

As a solo performer, I'm constantly facing the problem of how to keep working creatively on a daily basis when I'm not out touring. The answer seems to be to rehearse daily, but it can be intimidating to fill the void of both time and space in an empty rehearsal studio.

What I often do to get restarted is invent a theatre game or exercise. I'll share some of these in upcoming entries, but I encourage you to invent your own. These can have more power than ones you get from others, although it's helpful to familiarize yourself with games and exercises from books by Viola Spolin, Clive Barker (not the horror writer), Keith Johnstone, Davis Robinson, John Wright, and others.

To start inventing ask: What problem would you like to work on, what goal do you have, or what concept would you like to play with? Try to be specific and keep it small and achievable. Can you already think of a game or exercise that you could adapt for your problem, goal, or concept?

To be continued...

Friday, October 26, 2007

Think Like A Fool

Photo by Heather Mull

One of the inspirations for this blog is a book by Roger Von Oech titled A Whack on the Side of the Head in which he has a chapter called Don't Be Foolish. He summarizes some of this chapter in his blog post, Think Like a Fool. Ironically, I find that many clowns and physical comedians could improve their acts by thinking foolishly more often. It's also a rich creativity tool.

Some of his tactics for thinking like a fool include:
  • Reverse standard assumptions
  • Notice things others overlook
  • Be irreverent
  • Be cryptic
  • Be absurd
  • Take the contrary position
In his book he also mentions other fool tools:
  • Laugh at it
  • Reverse your viewpoint
  • Parody the rules
In the coming weeks I'll be adding to his list, but I'll throw this question out to you—What other ways can you think like a fool?