On Giving and Receiving Notes in Improv
By Madi Goff
When giving notes, one of my favorite questions to ask my students is this: “What was your brain thinking just now?” My goal with this question is to get behind the improviser’s thinking to give a more precise note. And I simply enjoy that dive into the human brain. I delight in discovering what is going on in the improviser’s mind.
For example, let’s say an improviser enters a scene in the middle of a beat. Their entrance disrupts the good energy that was cookin’ on stage and, as a result, the stakes drop. The general note from a director would be, “Don’t enter there. They had a good thing going. Wait to enter when the beat is over.” (Now, it’s important to acknowledge that not all mid-beat entrances are unhelpful. Let’s just say this one was.) The note, “Don’t enter there, etc.”, doesn’t have much specificity. However, if I can find out what caused the entrance, if I can ask the student “What was happening in your brain right before you walked in?” (Or in the case of Zoom: “What was happening in your brain right before you turned your camera on?”), then I can get to a more pinpointed note for that improviser.
Let’s say their answer was “I felt like the energy dropped and I was bringing some energy to the stage.” In this case, the improviser might not be gauging energy on the stage from a “2nd circle” place. (If you don’t know 1st, 2nd, or 3rd circle, check out Patsy Rodenburg on YouTube.) Then as a director, I know to watch and check in with that improviser regarding the vibe of the stage. Let’s say their answer was “I thought the beat was over, and I was starting a new beat.” Then you know that the improviser needs practice feeling out the beats of scenes. Or if their answer was, “I thought it would be cool if I entered, said this one thing, then exited, and they could continue with their scene.” Then perhaps you get to work with the improviser on letting go of ideas. Some of these answers from the improviser might require follow up questions to really dig in there, but you get the idea.
Sometimes, in this process, you realize that the note isn’t even for the improviser you thought it was for. Here’s a very generalized example: I have an improviser who doesn’t get into shows. As a director, I might say, “Hey you gotta get in there. Jump into the show.” However, if I took the extra second to ask, “What are you thinking in the wings?” The improviser might say, “There’s a lot of 3rd circle energy on stage. I’m hanging back because there’s already so much going on.” Then I might realize that this improviser was right! And I can move my line of questioning to the stage, asking, “Hey actors on stage, did you feel the 3rd circle energy? What were you thinking?” And, here’s the kicker, all of this must come from a place of joyful curiosity. Perhaps that’s the real work of a director, keeping your cast lifted and inspired while giving tough notes. This type of note-giving is a collaborative process that encourages self-sufficiency.
One drawback is that it takes time. I’ll talk more about that in a second. But another drawback is that in the moment you ask “what was going on in your brain?” the improviser could get caught up in their head. And some students might not even know what they were thinking. As a teacher and director, you have to feel out which students work well this way and which students don’t. There’s no good or bad or better or worse. Different brains work differently.
I know I work well this way: discovering areas of growth by examining my thoughts. I also have this pet peeve about people telling me what I was thinking. I know I’m not alone is this particular peeve. It’s a valid peeve, but it can lead to some bad energy coming from me! Say a director says to me, “See, Madi, you wanted to be in this scene, so you need to blah blah blah note blah blah…” but I’ve stopped listening because I know I didn’t just want to be in the scene, I wanted to __blankity blank whatever ____. It’s subtle, but my defenses have come up. I’ve left 2nd circle and can’t receive any feedback. I’ve had to work on this pet peeve as a student/ensemble member, because it’s super unhelpful. And the person giving me the note has something awesome to offer. I have to mentally chill during the part where they tell me what I am thinking, so I can take in part that’s helpful. Of course, in a perfect world, people don’t tell other people what they were thinking. They ask! But I’ve noticed myself as a director and teacher sometimes doing it accidentally, because it’s a time saver to make assumptions. But we all know what assumptions do…
Pet peeves aside, let’s say a director gives me a good note: “Madi, you weren’t listening in this moment.” An observation is a good note. I think back to the moment in question and realize, oh I had a mental flash on how strange my voice was and that I needed to ground my vocal choice for this character. Then I can try on a more specific note: “trust that your character will be grounded if they are present and listening.” It’s important to acknowledge that I do all this on my own time. Yes, this type of note giving and note taking can eat up precious rehearsal hours, but you don’t have to let it. This is part the responsibility of the note giver to set boundaries around notes, questions, and talking back; and it’s the responsibility of the note receiver to not to go back and forth with the director right there in the moment. I used to do this. I’m embarrassed to say A LOT. And I apologize to all my past directors, teachers, and classmates. Haha! I was taking up everyone’s time. Now, I take 15 seconds to write the note down, alongside my initial thoughts on what I was thinking in the moment, and I come back to it later. Otherwise all of rehearsal would be taken up with back and forths with the director, which is fun for exactly NO ONE.
Of course all of these pretend notes I’ve just given myself and pretend students depend on so many variables: the genre, the ensemble, the acting style, etc. But you get the idea. Diving into what’s going on in your brain is a great way to get really specific things to work on. I find that meditation helps clarify what’s going on in my brain. I always recommend meditation to students who feel like they have murky, fast, or very active brains. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually meditated because their improv teacher says “Try meditation!” But maybe. For me it took years of friends, therapists, and improv teachers recommending meditation and modeling meditation for me to actually give it a shot. And now I’m hooked. When I’ve been meditating regularly I’m a much better improviser and actor and human for that matter!
