Preventing Improv Burnout
Exploring things that light our improv fire and things that snuff it out.
At its best, improv is a beautiful flow. It’s the crossroads of intuition and mindfulness. When we do improv with the right mindset and people, we can experience ourselves at our best.
Doing improv can make us experience such highs. Because we are want to chase that, we should keep an eye on our relationship with improv and make sure it stays healthy.
If you’re like me and the improvisers I know, you probably feel really jazzed to do improv sometimes and ready to quit all your teams at others.
I want to explore where the things that kill the energy are; sweep the improv landscape for the mines that might create “burnout traps.” I also want to examine some things we can do to try to approach improv to get the most out of it and keep up a healthy relationship where we get out what we put in.
Doing improv has a way of helping us recognize, sometimes painfully, the things we need to work on to consistently play better. Generally, Folks who burn out have the best of intentions. They want to be the most boss-ass improviser they can be, for their audience, for their teammates, and for themselves.
There are a few ways a desire to progress can lead us to burnout, and it’s always helpful to be able to clock them.
SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS
Anyone who watched NBC’s The Good Place knows that searching for answers to everything can leave you stressed and with a stomach ache. I see “searching for answers” as our first burnout trap.
It’s so easy to fall into this because there are rules to improv, and when we learn them and embody them, we get better. We learn answers over and over as we develop our basic skills. There are some early skills where we can apply an answer, and that’s pretty much always the right thing to do.
For instance, when someone says something about our character, the right thing to do is make it part of our character. When we don’t know what to do in a scene or aren’t sure how to react, letting things matter or affect us is almost always the right thing to do. Clarifying the who/what/where with our scene partner is so helpful that it could be considered an answer. All these things feel like they are answers to the problems we face in improv.
However, as we hone these skills, we realize that there are so many ways to accomplish these goals.
Take framing, for example. We know that when we hear something unusual, we should point it out if we want to play the voice of reason. But, the “answer” isn’t always about whether or not we do point it out; a lot of the time, it’s about how we point it out.
We have a plethora of strategies for framing, and none of them is THE answer. We can label how the thing is unusual, we can sympathetically disagree with the behavior, we can pretend we think the character is joking, we can say, “Ohhh yeah! You do this thing!” We can repeat what the person said in a sassy tone. We can even just say, “WHAT?” Those are all valid and common framing moves.
My point here is that framing and the other “rules” are a framework of ideas that can help build a comedy scene, but they are not answers. Just like in life, improv doesn’t have a correct answer that you can implement every time.
You can find things that work for you most of the time, but you will eventually encounter something that requires a new solution. And your job as an improviser isn’t to have the right answer; it’s to do the work with your team and your scene partner to find the solution that’s right for this thing.
Your job in the next scene will be to work together to find a new solution again, just like you can’t live tomorrow the same way you lived today and expect it to work out great.
So, don’t search for answers. I know, I know, that’s a really easy thing to say and a hard thing to even acknowledge you’ve started doing. So, just try and be mindful of times when you think you might be looking for answers.
If you find that you are doing that, I find it’s helpful to take a little break. Skip a practice or spend a practice with the team doing something else. Maybe try and do a set where you forget the rules and, as our coach, Steve Szlaga, says to BEEF, “Let joy take the wheel.”
OVERLOAD
Hey, isn’t overload just another word for burnout? Well, good point, but I’d argue burnout is actually a symptom of overload.
I see “overload” as another easy to fall into burnout trap. We start improv and realize how much we have to learn. We start getting better, and maybe we join a team or two. Then, someone else we know wants to create a new team with a groovy new concept, and before you know it, you’re on another team. Then someone asks you to coach, you’re flattered, and boom, you’re coaching a team too, now. Ohh, and hey, what are podcasts you’ve been listening to? Improv beat by beat? Improv Nerd? Long-Form Conversations? Ohh, and what’s that book you’re reading? Napier, Johnston, or Hines (Other wonderful and talented people write improv books, I’m just making a point)?
You see my point. It’s easy to overload yourself with improv.
And actually, the way I see it, It’s not even really doing all these things that will make us burn out; it’s continuing to do something that we aren’t as excited or passionate about anymore while we do all these things.
The things we are excited to do will give us energy and make us eager to do more. If you’re feeling drained at the end of every practice or show, you’re gonna feel less jazzed to show up time and time again.
A friend and improv teammate of mine, Cody Unger, says, “don’t say yes unless it’s a hell yes.” I think he attributed this to someone else, but I heard it from him. The point is, if you aren’t feeling a hundred percent committed when you start, you probably shouldn’t spend your time on it because it’s likely you won’t get more stoked about showing up every week as time goes on.
You aren’t obligated to keep doing anything you aren’t really excited about, and it’s for the best that you don’t because no one wants you to show up half-committed. Half committed improv is always a slog.
If you find yourself feeling this way, have an honest conversation with your team about it. Open up those lines of communication. See how other people feel. Maybe it’s just been a few tough practices or shows, and things will get better again. Maybe it’s time to focus on a new form or grow in a new way as a team. Maybe it’s time to move on.
People don’t really do things forever. We should stick to the commitments we make, but we don’t commit to doing things in perpetuity; we don’t owe that to people, we owe them honesty. We try and commit to marriage forever, and that involves signing legal documents and kissing in front of our friends and family.
So if you’re feeling overload, try and work on telling people how you’re feeling. Which, incidentally, is a skill that’s great to use in scenes. And stay mindful of the things you really want to do and the things you’re less excited about than you thought you’d be.
IMPATIENCE
“Impatience” as a burnout trap refers to the improv journey we see ourselves on. We all have improv goals. We want to be on a Harold team, we want to be on a weekend team, we want to embody our characters’ emotions better, or label games more clearly.
Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in that and try to accomplish many things at once. This will ultimately make us more likely to get frustrated with improv as a whole.
Think of this as building IKEA furniture. You can’t just do a little bit of every step at once. You have to go step by step. Make sure the base of the sofa is put together before you put the slipcover on. And yes, there are some steps where you purposefully leave skews loose to be tightened after taking some other septs, but I think that applies here too.
Like my example in searching for answers, you can’t explore your framing move options until you know where and when framing has to happen. Just work on saying, “What?” for a while, and eventually, you’ll get to the point where you say, “hmm, I’m going to try some sympathetic disagreement.”
If you find yourself feeling impatient or like you want to work on everything at once, try and find a focus. Think of something you really think you need to work on and go into your practices and shows with that one thing in mind. You’ll be shocked by how soon you’ll feel happy with your progress and ready to move to a new focus.
No matter what your reason for burnout is, it’s ok. Life is about more than improv. Take a breather. Try and figure out why you’re feeling this way, and re-approach the subject with a more sustainable perspective.
That process of taking a breather and re-assessing looks different for everyone. Some folks just need a night off or to interact with their teammates outside of an improv environment. Some folks take a month or two off and come back ready to play more intentionally. I’ve seen both approaches work for people.
If you’re feeling burnout, do what you think is best for you, and if that turns out to not be right, try something else. Just stay transparent and open with your teammates, as you would during a scene, and I’m sure you’ll find they’re there to support you.
