Stanford Arts Review: What was it like working in
administration at BATS before you became a full member of the company?
Lisa Rowland: Because the founder of the Stanford
Improvisers knows a lot of the people at BATS, the BATS players would come down
and give a lot of workshops. I knew all of the players when I was at school. So
I had seen these people on stage before and they were gods among men in my
opinion. They were incredible, walked on water, brilliant improvisers. It was a
beautiful thing to be able to work in the office first because they became
people. Now they weren’t just these epic improvisers, they were ‘this person
who doesn’t respond to emails,’ and ‘this person who doesn’t like being in this
room so we need to find another one for her.’ So when it came time to audition
I wasn’t freaked out. I am really happy it happened that way. It took them off
their pedestals.
SAR: Why do you prefer improv to scripted theater?
LR: So here’s the number one reason why you love to do
improv: I’ve found a community in which improv can be theater. It’s very
theatrical. It’s not simply comedy but it is open to the wide range of emotions
that humans are. It can be funny, dramatic, high-jinx and farcical and anything
at all. The cool thing about improv is that you are everything at once: you are
the writer, the choreographer, the director, the actor. I think I’ve got all
the stuff I love about scripted theater, like the character development and the
connection and the drama and the really sinking your teeth in, which is often what
you don’t get in improv. I want to pursue that.
SAR: What kind of improvisational forms do you do?
LR: The big divide between the types of shows is length: we
do short form improv and long form improv. Short form is short, unassociated,
2-5 minute scenes where we get a suggestion from the audience, do a scene,
lights come down, hurray, it’s done, and now we’ll go do another scene. It’s
what you think of when you think of improv. Long form improv is a different
thing entirely. It’s more like watching a movie or a play. The characters are
the same and the narrative is unified over the course of the night. A lot of
the pioneering work on long form improv happened in San Francisco by the
players at BATS. They were the ones at the forefront. Thirty years ago nobody
was telling longer improvised stories. It’s a unique thing to San Francisco,
which I feel really proud of and excited about. I’ve had the chance to travel
to different places in the country for improv, to festivals and things, and
it’s amazing how shocked people are at that kind of improv.
SAR: How do you practice?
LR: It’s much like the way a sports team practices. They
have these skills, they know they need to be good at them, but they don’t know
how the game is going to go. They know they are going to need to be able to
pass and dribble and shoot and make three pointers. So they practice all of
those individual things. There’s individual craft but there’s also a collective
ensemble that needs to be built, a collective energy that we all need to tap
into to feel like we are all in the same show.
In Murder Mystery there’s a lot of flash backs, so we might
practice getting into and out of flashbacks and remind ourselves that a flash
back can happen at any time and anyone can call it: the victim, the suspect,
the detective. If we do Improvised Shakespeare, we do a language warm up and we
practice really big emotions and monologues. In an improvised Film Noir we
practice sexual tension, putting heat on the stage and getting in trouble and
being vulnerable.
SAR: As well as being a performer, you are also a teacher.
How do you approach teaching people who don’t do theater or aren’t performers?
LR: Most of my adult students are not performers and have no
aspirations to be performers. They just want to try something new. The key to
it is convincing them that they are safe, that messing up is not going to be a
bad thing, and that making mistakes is part of this process. Failing a lot,
early, and teaching them how to handle failure and even applaud each other for
it—to be able to throw your hands in the air and say, woo hoo! I failed! And
then we move on. It’s not painful. It’s taking the teeth out of failure.
SAR: Life skill, perhaps?
LR: Tell me about it. It’s the closest thing to a code of
living that I’ve found.
SAR: What do you mean?
LR: There are so many things in improv that are applicable
far beyond the stage. For example, fail gracefully. Let yourself off the hook
when you fail. Make your partner look good. That’s a big one, because you are
there on stage taking care of each other. Suddenly everything works a little
bit better when we are putting our focus on taking care of our partners rather
than just trying to make ourselves look good on stage. Be willing to lose if
that’s what’s needed. Be present. Let go of your plan. Be adaptable. Be
mindful. Cooperate. Say yes. Have adventures. All of these things are skills
that we teach that are absolutely learnable skills on an improv stage. They have absolutely changed the way I live
my life. In improv you always say yes. If you start to apply that to the real
world and think about all the things you say no to that you probably don’t have
to say no to, imagine: what if you said yes? It just takes you places.
Approaching life with an, ‘alright, let’s try it’ attitude makes a huge
difference.
SAR: Would you recommend that everyone take an improv class?
LR: Yes. Unequivocally. It’s the best cross training for
life. It makes us pay attention to each other, it makes us pay attention to
what’s happening now and respond to it. We notice more, are kind to each other,
support one another. I actually think that if everyone took an improv class the
world would be a better place.
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