A lot of people have been posting Conan’s “Don’t be cynical” advice lately.
I prefer Letterman’s perspective. Lots of wisdom in this one.
Something I wrote almost 5 years ago
Thanks for everyone’s kind words. They mean a lot. I’m very disappointed, but I’ve gotten good news phone calls, bad news phone calls and no phone calls, so this is nothing new. Great people got cast. Great people got cut. Even better people didn’t even get a callback. I can’t complain.
It’s one thing to go in there and, during those tense moments, put out something that doesn’t match up with your actual ability, to choke, to not put your best foot forward. I know that didn’t happen in my audition, that I improvised as well as I know how to, and if that wasn’t in demand right now, then there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
As some of you know, my improv career began with unsuccessful auditions. I desperately wanted to join my college improv group, but I struck out three times in a row - once my freshman year and twice my sophomore year. However each time I knew I’d nailed the audition, and that the people in that room behind the table made the mistake, not me. The fourth time I auditioned I finally made them realize that, and a year later I directed the group. So it’s not like facing something I’ve been dealing with for literally a decade will take me out of the running now. You’ll have to do much, much better than that to get rid of me.
Below is a post I made to my old improv journal after my first unsuccessful Harold audition in July of 2007. My own life has changed tremendously since then (I wrote this in the attic bedroom of an AmeriCorps house in Flatbush), but my feelings now are nearly identical to what I felt then.
BROOKLYN, JULY 2007 - So I auditioned for a UCB team yesterday, and did not get cast.
Without setting myself up for guaranteed failure, I had mentally prepared myself for this so I’m alright. There’s a reason Ross told me right away after I called him that it was unusual to be cast after your first audition.
I didn’t go in there and “blow it.” I didn’t scream or go blue or panic and go tense. I did scenework with someone I had never met before that was B+ stuff at least. I tried to help scenes that struggled without stealing attention, and I had fun.
If I wasn’t what they wanted right now, well there’s not a damn thing I can do about that.
Not a lot of people know this, but I didn’t even make the CHiPs incubator team until my 4th round of auditions my junior year of college. I’d be a real boob to think it would be EASIER at the UCB Theater.
At the same time, after those CHiPs auditions, I always walked away KNOWING it was them who made the mistake, not me. I came back each time with a stronger resolve to give them NO CHOICE but to cast me the next time around.
I started taking DSI classes. I worked hard. I got better. It was that sequence of events that led me to any of the success I’ve found in this artform, and I intend to employ that same approach now.
I’m still relatively new on the scene. Only Anthony had seen me do anything before. I’ve never worked with Gethard or Delaney and I’ve never taken a 600 level class (next one available is “political improv” - um, yes?).
So it’s time to curse a little, ask why some people were cast, get the fuck over that in about 10 seconds, and get back to work.
If I had said “screw it” and joined the Outdoor Adventures club after that first failed CHiPs audition, my life would be very different today.
So I’m okay. And you hear me, UCB powers-that-be? I don’t expect this to be easy and I don’t expect any free passes. I intend to put in the work and the next time I get to try this again, I’ll give you no choice but to make a different decision.
David Siegel
July 15, 2007
Brooklyn, NY
Hi Anonymous - just for the record I was lucky enough to do a scene with Kirk during his callback, and he was fantastic in there. Killed it. Harold Night would be lucky to have him, but thems the breaks.
I’m sorry you’re in a rough spot right now. I’ve been there, believe me. But this isn’t the way out.
(I know I said I wouldn’t respond, but… third beats!)
While you got what you wanted (I guess?), I don’t think it’ll make you a better improviser… or a happier person.
Please come to this show and “like” this video via the Facebook link! I’m a whore!
Weekend of Regret is competing in Indie Cage Match this Sunday at 7:30pm at UCB East. Sure would be awfully swell to see you there!
Also, my parents will be seeing my improvise for the first time ever.
Some unsolicited advice
Don’t sign up to audition “with a buddy.” It won’t help you. Ensemble auditions are something else, but I’m talking about going in there hoping you’ll do one of your two scenes with a specific person.
In the first round, they’re looking at hundreds and hundreds of improvisers, many of whom the people on the panel don’t know well. You have two brief scenes. That’s it.
At that stage in the game they’re looking for people who don’t choke and can build a scene with the other human standing across from them, no matter what kind of player they are. Period. They want to see who, in a high pressure environment, can make and support basic choices without relying on crutches like unearned antagonism, blue material or screaming.
That’s really it, and auditioning with a buddy won’t help with that. It might even hurt. What if you don’t get to do a scene with him/her? What if you have to do a scene with the crazy guy? You need to simply be loose and ready for anything, and flying solo in the initial round is the best way to do that.
If you go all the way you might be on a team with your buddy. You probably won’t be, so go in and show them that no matter who steps off that back line, that you won’t bail on your process, you’ll make them look good, and you’ll understand the goal in this round is to show you are an agreeable craftsman, not to have the audition panel rolling in the aisles.
Then again, I may be the last person in the world from whom you would want advice on any of this shit. Give em’ hell, everybody. See you there.
Okay Let’s Do an Improv Post - ZZ Top’s choreography and making physical choices
When improvisers make and commit to physical choices on stage, the audience payoff is always disproportionately large. Just think about the last time anyone on your ensemble got picked up and carried around during a scene. The audience probably went nuts, even if the improv was shit. If the improv was good too, you were probably blowing the roof off the place.
You don’t need to be a brilliant mime or a natural mover on stage to add this layer to your work. It’s entirely a matter of intention. You choose to do it, and to demonstrate my point I can think of no better example than ZZ Top.
Billy Gibbons and Dusty Hill have some extremely basic choreography they incorporate into their songs. It’s so simple, just a few cross-steps, pushing their guitars forward at the same time, c’mon they’re old guys at this point. Literally anyone could do it, and there’s honestly nothing that impressive about the moves in and of itself, but anyone will tell you watching Billy and Dusty click into those moves together is what makes a ZZ Top show.
Could they just stand there and play their instruments and have it be great? Sure. Can you just stand there and talk and maybe (maybe!) hold a glass in your scenes and have it still be fun? Sure, I’ve done probably 98% of my scenes like that. But the fact remains the effort/payoff ratio in those 2% of scenes where physical choices played a big role was much easier than any laugh found by being verbal and clever.
So does this mean if you’re a talky player to abandon your style and start flailing your body around in every scene? Of course not. It just means over a 25-minute set, agree with your ensemble that at least one scene will have a physical focus. Put nothing on it beyond that. On the individual level, commit to taking yourself out of your physical comfort zone at least once.
That’s all ZZ Top is doing. They’re making the choice to add this element to their show. Why an audience goes batshit for improvisers being picked up, or improvisers touching in general, is for another post, but the fact is they do.
So just do it. Have that show where you all collectively form an 8-person dragon and fly around on the stage. The edge-of’-your-seat “holy shit they’re really making this up” audience excitement physical work generates is not only available to the Fred Astaire improvisers out there. I wish I did it more, and there’s no real excuse not to.
If ZZ Top can do it, so can you.
Ok lets do an improv post - Two yuppy sports analogies
We’re in unfamiliar territory here. The world of sports is foreign and frightening to me, and it’s no surprise my two examples reference tennis and golf, the only two fancy lad sports in which I found even a smidgen of ability. I spent a week at soccer camp without touching the ball save putting it back in the mesh bag at the end of the day, and I don’t understand how football is played. That said, here are two sports-based improv analogies.
1.) An improviser should treat their initiation the way a tennis player treats their serve.
This is specifically with regard to premise-based initiations off an opening.
The serve is the one shot, where the player has total control. After the ball leaves their racquet, everything else done is in reaction to your opponent. It’s the only time your racquet will strike the ball completely under your control without having to factor in something that’s happened across the net first. 99.9% of the time during a tennis point you’re responding and reacting, but during that 1%, until the ball leaves your racquet, you alone dictate how the point starts. You set the tone.
That means the serve isn’t wasted. Good tennis players use their serve aggressively. They choose where to place it, and how to spin it, and how much margin for error to leave or not. They don’t just walk up to the baseline and bunt it in. Those few precious seconds of control are a gift not to be wasted. They use it to their absolute maximum advantage.
The same is true for an initiation. Be a control freak about that one line, and then let go after that. You have one line under your control, one split second where you’re not responsible to react to what your scene partner is giving you. Why walk up to the baseline and bunt with a “Hey what’s up” throw away line? Place the initiation. Spin it the way you want. Precisely choose the world you want to play in. Make it count to nail down what you want to play with, because after being a control freak for that one line you have to let go entirely. (And obviously in improv we hope our opponent is there to crush a forehand return, not to blow past them with an ace. )
Also, like a serve, if you try to do too much with it, you’ll probably fault. Being a control freak for that one line doesn’t mean you script out the entire scene. It means you pick a precise spot you want to land the first bounce of the ball. It means you make a precise, clear choice about what world/idea/premise you want to play with at the top of a scene.
No one likes a ball hog, but you’ve also got to have a firm grip on the ball if you’re going to dunk it. Oh shit, I’m straying into basketball. Lets dial this back in…
2.)A premise initiation from an opening is like teeing up on the fairway.
You’re only supposed to tee up the ball on the very first shot of a hole. When you put the ball up on a tee instead of hitting it off the ground, it goes a lot farther.
I have an aunt, who, despite the rules, likes to tee up the ball on subsequent shots on the fairway. She’s not the greatest golfer, but by teeing up on the fairway she’s usually on the green in a shot or two, while her friends need extra shots to cover the distance.
My aunt is playing premise golf. Her friends are playing organic golf.
If getting on the green is the equivalent of finding a game (and then putting equals game moves and sinking the ball is the edit), then teeing up in the middle of the fairway is like a strong premise initiation off an opening.
We watch an opening with 8 pairs of the same eyes, so that in just a few lines we can connect with our partner on far more implied elements of a scene than just stepping out organically. If there’s an identifiable location in a scene painting, or a clear voice from a monologue, then the ensemble can immediately “get on the green” faster. It might take 2-minute of organic yesanding to get to that Michelin star chef having to work in a school cafeteria, but if it’s an idea that emerges from a productive opening, the ensemble can have it in just a few lines, and use the rest of the time trying to sink that putt.
My aunt is cheating. I’m not implying premise initiations are cheating. It’s satisfying to watch golfers line up the strokes to finally make it to the green. Often watching a golfer have to take an extra shot from difficult territory is the most exciting part. At the same time, the goal is to get the ball in that cup, and if you do happen to crush it off the fairway and actually land it on the green…then you wish you can do that every time.
Same with improv. We all would probably prefer to walk out and quickly agree on a focused idea and blow the hell out of it without wasting time in a non-engaging way. For a lot of people, working off of premises is just one of the most effective ways to improve the odds of that consistently happening. At the same time, even if you’re teeing up on the fairway, you’ll still have to know how to hit another shot if it doesn’t land on the green right away…and you can’t tee up in a sand trap, let alone the water. Those basic organic skills are required either way.
Sports!
The definition of a “two peas in a pod” character relationship in improv. Two people against the world > two people against each other. Always.
Fuck this is funny.
Last year, Ellen sent my friend Amy Rhodes to Universal’s haunted maze, and this was the result. This year, they sent Amy to another haunted house with her mom. It gets better.
THIS Thursday at 6pm “The Spin” returns to the UCB Theatre for a Spank audition show, along with two other great acts. “The Spin” had a run during the ‘08 election season, and we’re trying to bring the ole’ girl back.
So come on out for some politically-themed, topical improv comedy. FREE FOR UCB STUDENTS!
