A Case for Improvisation. Prelude: "Truth Transcends"

I will be working against all of my insecurities in this post; I feel it's important to do this, if just for brevity's sake. Therefore, I will try not to qualify much of what I'm going to say with my typical cheeky little quips or excuses/justifications. I am well aware that I'm not qualified whatsoever to make these sorts of claims... I'm positive that anyone with two licks worth of higher education can disprove this in a matter of seconds, but I'm not going to let that stop me from giving it a solid go. I probably should delay this posting to update myself in epistemological philosophy, but instead I'm going to be working off the top of my head on this one... I know, ballsy. Not really... I don't get much traffic from philosophers. And most of them punch like girls.

The purpose for this inquiry is to try and build a case for the acceptance of improvisational comedy as a legitimate art form, an all-encompassing, all-inclusive creative outlet and a unique platform for intellectual inquiry. I believe it to be one of the most exciting things that we (as a society) have stumbled into, and one of the worst utilized. In the status quo, we are taking a supercomputer and using it to make cartoons. This has got to change.

It's pretty important to establish this groundwork before I continue on to some bigger, more important posts that I have in the works. And even though I'm stupidly attempting to capture something that exists somewhere outside of language, or possibly even above knowledge altogether, I hope that it makes some sort of sense, in an elemental sort of way.

I'm going to begin this line of thinking with an assumption: there is an ultimate Truth.

At a very, very basic level, this Truth underlies the nature of everything, not in a Platonic disembodied way, exactly, but in a simple, everyday kind of way... it's just there from the beginning. It's how we can conceptualize anything. In a world that's in a perpetual quantum shift, it's how we can differentiate any one thing from another, from objects, to actions, to emotions, to ideas. Without this Truth everything would be nothing at all... vague enough? Identifying Truth is, at its basic level, a recognition of differences.

I can't resist at least one attempt to clarify... I know I'm breaking my own rules, but I'm worried that I'm coming across a bit too heady so soon in. Maybe it'll help to think of Truth as something like the idea of color. Let's assume, just for the sake of the illustration, that our only sensory input is visual. If everything were the exact same color, we would be completely useless. Blind as bats, we would have no way to tell objects apart. There would be no way to measure distance or length or breadth or anything, or even conceptualize those ideas. Everything would be nothing at all; we would be utterly helpless. Because we have different colors, and shades of the same color, we can tell the difference between one thing and the next. We are freed to live. Now, I'm not saying that there are differences in Truth in the same way that there are differences in color. I'm saying that Truth is the difference between the colors.

So Truth, then, separates dots from the background.

It is this Truth that is the medium for all metaphor. A simple, usable definition of “metaphor” is “understanding one thing in terms of another.” While identifying Truth is at first a recognition of differences, it is also a comparison of the resultant similarities. It's easy enough to see that when you have specific, observable differences, you can begin to group things together. Metaphors (literally meaning “to carry between”) find objects that are inherently dissimilar and find where they are the same.

Truth connects the dots.

Here's another way that metaphor is valuable. It is difficult to identify a new point of information (let's call it a “dot”) without being told where it is. You have to experience it, and that takes a lot of time and, often, random happenstance that is outside your control. Then you have to name it and find its place in your library of references, etc., etc... It's just a lot. [The more I chew on this idea, the more I'm convinced that everything that we learn must, by necessity, be digested in terms of metaphor; meaning, we conceive every new bit of information in the light of what we have previously learned. Perhaps learning, at its heart, is a metaphorical process... which has huge implications on the use of creativity in education.] Metaphor draws lines between known dots. Both are illuminated by the light of the other; we see both in new ways. But even further, lines (by definition) are a solid sequence of dots themselves. In one fell swoop they identify an untold number of new points of information and perspectives (which, perhaps taking the geographical imagery a bit too far, you could think of as “angles of connection between two or more dots”), each which can then connect to others, and so on. A web of connection and reference, each illuminating one another.

So... we have at least two dimensions of revealed Truth established.

First, in our inherent ability to recognize the difference between two objects, actions, values, etc.

Second, in our ability to identify similarities between two seemingly different objects, actions, values, etc,... In recognizing the two things as both different and similar at the same time (but maintaining their autonomy) we find a new aspect or dimension of Truth. A little bit deeper and more profound.

I'll end on this: a third dimension in which Truth works is in our ability to observe ourselves interacting with the first two levels of Truth. We can conceptualize ourselves both inside and outside the process. Take this essay for example. It's attempting to form a connection to the actual process itself, creating all kinds of havoc. It becomes a sort of meta-critical event, somehow floating over the process and reporting on it. Really this seems like something that shouldn't be possible, but it's yet another way for us to make a connection to the over-arching Truth that defines the differentiations to begin with.

All of these facets of Truth are inherent in our nature and are able to be exercised to greater effectiveness through practice and repetition. Being inherent, they were discovered facets and not created ones.

Why do I spend so much time attempting to describe some ambiguous process of evaluation that is an inherent, taken-for-granted part of life? Because ultimately it's important. We are able to become our own metaphors and can compliment, support and illuminate each other. We can consciously take the next step.

And it's just plain awesome to see the amount of complexity in which we live on a moment-to-moment basis. Beautiful, really.

And finally... the reason all of this is here. I was working towards paving a clear-ish road to this concept, which I plan on using to support further conjecture:

If something holds a value of being true, the same structures that make it true are valuable metaphorical assets and are cross-applicable to other disciplines as either support mechanisms or foundations for new exploration.

Specific truth can be cross-applied to specific aspects of specific disciplines.

Universal truth can be cross-applied universally.

Truth transcends.

New Blogsite for Improv Related Posts

From here on, all my improv related posts are going to be posted to http://www.whyimprov.tumblr.com/ so that I can have a url to send people to that doesn't conflict with any personal blogging that I want to do.

I know you are crushed... just click the link.

And by all means, pass it on!

-Matt
mypatchworkpants.blogspot.com

Improv: Series Introduction

Let me start by saying
that this is in no means an attempt to construct a formal paper. This is a blog. This is my (rather weak) attempt to dump everything in this little skull of mine into a place where I can find it later. So there's no need to critique it in formal terms. I'm not going to go out of my way to drop references or qualify anything that I say with quotations from experts. Consider this a "popular essay," where I will try to present what I feel is important in hopes that you will, upon reading it, find it important, too.

Secondly,
I don't know if this has been done before. I've spent a good amount of time researching improv comedy and haven't found anything similar... perhaps I'm simply a terrible researcher. But if there's something else out there that you could say I'm deriving a lot of this from, let me know! I'd love to find someone else out there that feels the same way that I do! Alas, if there is, I haven't found him. Or her. If it's a her, most definitely let me know. Post-haste.

What am I going to attempt?
This is an open letter to the church-at-large. I believe that improv comedy has stumbled over a method by which a community can strengthen itself in very productive and surprisingly painless ways. I believe that it has been overlooked as "silly" for far too long. In so many words, I believe that improv comedy can revolutionize the way that the church deals with personal growth, in-house conflicts, creative stagnation, community outreach, team-building, and many other facets of church life that have heretofore been dealt with in too many disparate ways. This is an attempt to synthesize all previous attempts into a single, encompassing formula.

This may sound a bit naive,
but I plan on laying it on thick. I have a million things to say. This is simply the introduction. I pray that I'll have the wherewithal to stick with it until the end.

Improvisation and Kids

Today I finished the ARTS camp at Easley First Baptist Church. I had two classes to which I taught improv for four days. The first class consisted of eleven 1-3 graders, the second of six 4-6 graders.

I learned something very valuable. Kids don't need improv.

Keith Johnstone said it right (as usual) ((by the way, the following quote is paraphrased because I'm too lazy to go grab my copy of "Impro" even though it's mere feet away. So go buy the book yourself and read it in context. You won't regret it.)):

"Kids are not under-developed adults. Adults are atrophied children."

It takes a certain amount of life to paralyze the creative impulse, or at least bury it deep enough to require excavation. Typically, improv is that excavation.

But kids are already kids. They don't need excavation. They need discipline and structure.

Improv then becomes a different monster... one of training on a very basic level, not error correction. I think that traditional theatre training is a preferable method for developing a child's artistic temperament, with improv used primarily as a tool in the theatrical creation process, instead of my usual ideal of using theatrical devices as tools in an improvisational creation process.

I think that I now understand why Peter Brook used an eclectic mix of fully trained, experienced actors from different backgrounds in his troupes. He used improv to "untrain" these actors, who could then use the reverse-engineered techniques of their previous crafts to re-assemble themselves into a super-creative entity. But they had to have something to untrain.

Improv seeks to return "adults" into a child-like state of freedom, creativity and security, but with the confidence, awareness and capability that only time can instill.

Kids need something different.

Hopefully more experience in this arena will show me different techniques to deal with the needs of such budding little geniuses, but as of now... if you're a teacher of elementary students, stick to theatre.

Improv will fix anything you screw up... but later on.