I find myself thinking about improv tonight, at 11.47pm on a Monday. I haven’t done improv in at least a few weeks, there is no real reason for it to have popped up in my mind.
I find myself wondering this – was I as good of a scene partner as I thought I was?
I remembered this moment before an improv training that didn’t go particularly well. I was training with a coach I hadn’t spent much time with, training with a group of people I at that time called friends. The coach was having us, before our warm ups, talk about stuff that we all each really enjoyed about improv. I said a few things, the last of which being that I felt it could sometimes be like “emotionally unclogging” yourself, feeling big feelings in a way that felt safe and disconnected from reality.
The coach cautiously agreed that it is good to play with big emotions, but mentioned that it was important to be careful of your scene partners welfare when you’re doing this.
Naturally, as he said this, I agreed wholeheartedly. I genuinely felt that I was very careful to protect my scene partners. I recalled instantly at least a few instances where I had been brilliantly supportive, proving in that moment to me that I am very careful.
However, I found my mind wandering tonight about how life might have been if I had made that audition and gotten into the house improv teams back in Melbourne. I would definitely still be in Melbourne if I had gotten it. I found my mind wandering, how is it that I did not get in?
Then, I thought of Broni.
Broni was the education director at the improv theatre, no one on the selection committee knew me better. No one else who had ever taught me was in that room, when the selection was made. Only Broni.
Broni’s opinion of me, then, would have held some weight in that room. Even after so long, it feels natural to wonder – what might he have thought of me.
When I reflect on my time having been in classes taught by Broni, I can think of plenty of instance where I showed powerful supportiveness to my scene partners.
But.
I can see why Broni might have felt I was a little emotionally volatile.
I think I was fairly even tempered, and frankly, down right pleasant in classes. I won’t lie, though, and say that improv meant a lot to me, and sometimes I would grow a little distant when I wasn’t on form. In small ways, sometimes my feelings would come through. I remember one class when we were doing the movie format, I felt a little off-footed by struggling with some stuff earlier in the class, and when came time to do an actual run of the movie, a lot of my scene painting was delivered efficiently but without gusto. After the run I was called out, rightfully, for a rather joyless performance.
Times like this where my personal feelings would slip through. It happened to everyone. I was on an off the vapes during this time, there would be times where my energy would noticeably zap. There were times when I made sloppy moves that drained all the energy from the room. If the scene called for it, I would play a character fairly intensely, but I pretty much never got noted for it. I had my moments where I wasn’t the dream scene partner. It happened to everyone.
I can’t help but wonder, now, why people never seemed to want to play with me outside of class. I suppose, even still, I can’t help but feel it must reflect on me in some way that I never seemed to be invited to be a part of peoples teams.
Perhaps it is my emotionality. I think in so many ways, my emotionality is such a huge gift. When I am soaring in improv, I truly feel in some ways unmatched.
People must sense, too, that I also have my edges. Something I have learned so many times before is that it is uncommon for someone to stick with me when the going is rough. There must be something that I do to repel people when I feel vulnerable.
I, for sure, made numerous mistakes within and without of the improv scene in Melbourne while I was there. But I was good. I was damn good. Everyone had stuff to work on when they’ve been doing it for a year, but if I were afforded more opportunities for experience I could have been one of the best that place had ever seen.
I also could have been much, much more proactive in seeking out opportunities.
I still think it’s valid to feel weird about the fact I didn’t get a little bit more love in that place.
I don’t miss Melbourne. I think I had some days when I did, but today I definitely don’t. It’s not as though I want to be back there, even if I did have those opportunities.
My gut kept telling me to leave Melbourne, and even though it’s been a little touch and go – it does feel right. I’m glad I left. Being happy is more important than being “great”, surrounded by people who would have never appreciated me.
To Newcastle. May she be kind to me.
Leave a Reply