"The stakes could not be lower" - Part 1 (?)

As part of my teaching for Hoopla Impro, at the beginning of each session I have my courses' participants shout all together "THE STAKES COULD NOT BE LOWER".

This motto was inspired by a couple of things.

First, by Patti Stiles' book "Improvise Freely". In the very first chapter, Stiles writes about how the entire Loose Moose Theatre shared the same improv philosophy: how can I remove my fellow improvisers' fear of failure? How can I inspire them to take risks? (p. 15).

Then, by my desire to create a graph that could represent different types of discomfort experienced by improvisers on stage. Why did I want a graph? Because I am a visual-learning nerd with an unreciprocated passion for Microsoft Excel.

Alas, I failed in producing said graph. However, I was able to define a spectrum of discomfort: on one side of this spectrum, spicy discomfort: "I am outside my area of comfort, but I am willing to take risks because I perceive that my personal stakes in this situation are very low". For example, a scene partner endows my character as "an expert in plums". I (Claudia) do not care if people discover I know very little about plums, and I am willing to take the risk of making bold (and possibly wrong) statements about plums. "Plums are rich in Vitamin C! Plums grow on bushes! Plums are usually purple!" Those were three things!

On the other side of the spectrum, cringy discomfort: "I am outside my area of comfort, and I am not willing to take risks because I perceive that my personal stakes in this situation are very high". For example, a scene partner establishes that our characters are in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. I (Claudia) hate zombies, Zombies scare the crap out of me. I often have nightmares about them when I am anxious. I would rather run eight marathons in a row than watch a single scene of a zombie movie. I. Hate. Zombies. I will do the scene, but my brain will probably be half frozen by pent-up fear as I play it.

Having formed these definitions, I understood better Stiles' question: "how can I remove my fellow improvisers' fear of failure? How can I inspire them to take risks?" How can I lower their personal stakes?

I might have an interesting reflection on this question, but I need more time to think about it. If I find what I am looking for, I will share it in a future post entitled "The stakes could not be lower" - Part 2.

Finally, I want to draw the reader's attention to the phrasing I used in the descriptions above, as I refer to how one perceives one's personal stakes. Why "perceive"? Zombies do not exist. I know that they don't exist. This rational awareness doesn't stop me from perceiving a real sense of danger when zombies are mentioned. To eradicate this issue completely, I'd probably have to spend a lot of time and money in therapy: isn't it just easier if my scene partners offer me literally anything other than zombies? It would be the best way to make me look good, inspire me, support me, and let me play away from a state of cringy discomfort.

Why "personal"?

In the performances of his plays, Brecht wanted the audience to be constantly aware that the people on stage were performers who were acting as characters. I have always associated this information with Fabrizio Lobello (one of I Bugiardini) as he explained to my beginners improv class a very similar concept.

Fabrizio told us (while moving his hands like one of the Las Ketchup at the beginning of the choreography for their 2002 summer hit "Asereje") that the audience pays one ticket to watch two shows: the show of the characters' story, and the show of the performers making stuff up from nothing.

The performer's personal stakes need to be low, so the performer can take more risks.

This doesn't mean that the performer's character's stakes need to be low as well. In fact, it is usually more fun for players and audience if the character's stakes are painstakingly and blatantly high.

This is enough, for now. It will be important to keep in mind the difference between performer and character for a future post I am already writing about guess-based short form games. In the meantime: asereje, ha, he he.