Improv Conspiracy Blog

Improvisers can't shut up about improv. We love talking about it — scenes you did, scenes I did, scenes we were both in together. Scenes that were good (and why), scenes that were bad (and why), scenes that we thought were going to be about this and ended up about that. Scenes that we thought about doing and didn't do, scenes that we did and wish we hadn't, scenes that we thought about afterwards we wish we'd done!

Theories of structure and technique, creativity and inspiration, our personal strengths and challenges, other players' strengths and challenges, other formats, other groups, and improv blah blah this and improv blah blah that.

Most people would think that to be an improviser you need to be outgoing, talkative, loud, bubbly and have boundless energy. Well, those things do help to some extent, but they’re not the whole picture.

I’ve always been on the quiet side. Don’t get me wrong – I love to talk – I just prefer talking to a couple of people rather than a whole bunch. I considered myself an extrovert because I’m interested in theatre and enjoy performing, and I think other people generally assumed I was an extroverted person because I’m chatty and friendly. It wasn’t until more recently I realised that I’m more on the introverted scale of being, and I’m learning to work this to my advantage.     

Daniel Pavatich just returned to us after a month in Chicago, studying improv at the world-famous iO Theatre. Over the coming days we'll be posting some of Dan's reactions and revelations from his time overseas!

Something you'll read a lot in any Chicagoland Improv Book is this quote from Del Close, it goes: 

“If we treat each other as if we are geniuses, poets and artists, we have a better chance of becoming that on stage."

It sounded stupid once. Now it's obvious. Now it's too obvious. It's annoyingly obvious. I need to "yes, and" the reality of the scene, and stuff... but you know that. Of course you do. 

When I was 16 I joined a band full of guys in their mid twenties - they'd already had some success, with play on triple M and triple J and in my eyes, these guys were music gods. Somehow I lucked into the situation. Right place, right time. Right place being my brother's bedroom (he was the lead singer) right time being the day their bass player quit.

My first show was an EP launch to a sold out Espy Gershwin room. Goodness me, was I terrified… As if this is a logical first show for a 16 year old! I exclaim with textually sarcastic intonation - You might as well have called me Gabriella Cilmi.

I had butterflies in my stomach as my brother drove us there, he was doing vocal warm ups and I was trying to keep my dinner inside myself.

I took all my queues from the guys in the band and from that day and for another couple of years those three guys taught me everything I needed to know to tackle the stage on my own for years to come. 

For years now, I've stepped on stages with only a small trace of the nerves I had that first year. Sure,  some shows are very important and I sweat attendance numbers or whether or not the hero of mine I'm opening for is going to like me. 

But most shows - I show up, we all plug in, we count to 4 and we all have the best time ever. I know all the words, I know who I am, I know what comes next, and I always know what to say. I feel at home on stage. No concerns. No thinking. Just strumming, and singing, and laughing.

Until…  I decided to do improv.

If I ever met me from five years ago I’d probably punch past me right in the mouth. Yep right in the face hole. Why? ‘Cause I was a big old jerk. I was loud and inconsiderate and just largely went around being a jerk. But I know that now and I’m (hopefully) less of a jerk because of it.

Yep, one day I went and got me some personal growth. And you know what? It was good! It meant that I could slowly become less jerky and even start to like the kind of person I was becoming. So in five more years I hope that I look at present me and think that he was kind of a jerk too, so the cycle of jerk - growth - jerk - growth can just continue into whatever the future may hold.

In many ways improv is a lot like life; it just runs on a much faster calendar. How do I know this? ‘Cause six months ago I was a big old face-hole-punch-worthy jerk. And here’s how I know…