e-liz

I've had the pleasure of meeting dozens of people in various workplaces this year, in the context of job interviews - with me as the interviewee, that is. Most of them wanted to discuss the standard stuff: what I did at my last job, why I went into PR, what I think my worst quality is*, etc.

But I also had a handful of really interesting discussions in interviews. In particular, someone I interviewed with (at the company I eventually joined) asked me a series of questions about how my life as an improviser affects the way I work.

I've been doing improv for over ten years, and I've been in the workforce for almost as long... yet no one had ever asked me that before!

It seemed self-evident that the mindset one has to cultivate in order to become good at improv will also serve them well at work in certain ways - just as there are particular workplace advantages conferred by being an aerobics instructor, an Eagle Scout, or a Buddhist monk.

Here is what I came up with. If you're an improviser at work...

1. You trust your colleagues, and expect them to trust you.
   An improv scene will quickly go south if anyone in it is hanging back, skeptically observing what everyone else is doing, and silently thinking, "this scene sucks." If you're a halfway-decent improviser on stage, you don't do that to your scene partners. And if you're an improviser at work, you don't do that to your coworkers. You go into your working relationships with the unspoken agreement that everyone on your team is there for a reason, and everything they say could very well be the most brilliant idea ever. You always try first to "yes, and." And you probably wouldn't last long in a position where colleagues didn't afford you the same level of support.
2. You're a great public speaker.
   People tend to invite you to give presentations in front of groups, whether you like it or not. This is because your style is different from most people's - you don't adhere too tightly to a script, stumble over your words, or avoid eye contact. On stage, improvisers are trained to react and respond to things naturally, without thinking too hard or judging what they're about to say before they say it. If you're an improviser at work, you put people at ease with your ability to present material confidently and conversationally, and adapt to changes in the group's conversation with ease.
3. You don't discount the obvious.
   In knowledge work in general, and especially in creative fields, there is so much pressure to, well, "be creative!" It becomes easy to mistake novelty for quality. People start to think that only the most one-of-a-kind inventions and the most complicated plans qualify as "creative." Meanwhile, improvisers at the professional level strive for exactly the opposite ideal: being obvious.
   
   Don't know what I mean be "being obvious"? The best explanation I've seen recently comes from friend and former castmate Brett Johnson, who uses several Keith Johnstone passages to illustrate, including this one:
   
   The improviser has to realize that the more obvious he is, the more original he appears. I constantly point out how much the audience like someone who is direct, and how they always laugh with pleasure at a really 'obvious' idea. Ordinary people asked to improvise will search for some 'original' idea because they want to be thought clever...
   
   'What's for supper?' a bad improviser will desperately try to think up something original... he'll finally drag up some idea like 'fried mermaid.' If he'd just said 'fish' the audience would have been delighted. No two people are exactly alike, and the more obvious an improviser is, the more himself he appears.
   
   Entire schools of improv thought are built on the premise that truth is always the best choice - that is, the most compelling thing to watch in a scene is a person reacting honestly and authentically to what is happening around them, finding humor in what is commonplace and shared. Because of this, improvisers are perfectly conditioned to find simple, elegant, intuitive, obvious answers to problems, both on stage and at the office.

Since I know quite a few readers have substantial backgrounds in improv, I'd like to hear to what you think. Is this a good answer? Accurate? Incomplete? I know that even now having had a few weeks to think about it, I've still only uncovered the tip of the iceberg on this one.

Meanwhile, if you like books and are new to improv, I recommend Patricia Ryan Madson's Improv Wisdom, and this accompanying Q&A on Brand Autopsy.

* There is no possible right answer to this question. The next time someone asks me what my worst quality is, I'd love to reply, "Candor. What's yours?" and just see what they say.