Jono Starsmore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomtownies2013-01-10 08:18 am
furnaceface) wrote in fandomtownies2013-01-10 08:18 am
Entry tags:
Improv Class, The Boards, Thursday Evening
In the basement of the boards was a small rehearsal area: a tiny stage, a number of seats. It had the right informal air for a workshop: not the intimidating air of the proper stage, but with a distinct theater vibe.
Lizzie was less nervous than she'd been last time, but that had been a one-off workshop, and not an actual class. And hey, she was a worrier, she could admit that.
She clasped her hands in front of herself and began talking.
"Hi, everyone," she said. "My name is Lizzie Bennet, and this is Jonothon Starsmore." Had everyone met Jono? If not, he was the big blue guy standing next to her. "We're teaching an improv class this semester, so if you're here for something else, then you're in the wrong place. In which case, stay anyway, because this should be fun. I hope."
"She hopes," Jono echoed, smirking faintly. "If you're standing on a stage and you're not having fun, odds are you're doing something dreadfully wrong, or you're on the losing side in a political debate. I'm going to go on the assumption that all of you are familiar in some manner with the performing arts. You might've seen a film at the cinema, or the ballet, or watched your favourite band play in concert. It all really boils down to the same thing; self expression."
For a large blue angry-looking man who was leaning heavily on a pair of crutches and was too damn stubborn to hunt down one of the ten million healers on the island in order to remedy that, he really did seem big on that self expression thing.
"Obviously something like dance or music can be improvised," he continued, "but in this class we're going to focus on the more theatrical aspect of it... Of getting onto the stage without a script, and acting out a role using your wits alone."
"So we're going to forego introductions in favor of just jumping right in to our first activity," Lizzie said excitedly. "A lot of improv is just developing a character. Your character doesn't need to be fully rounded; just a suggestion or a caricature is enough. Have a few traits in mind, and an idea how the person will react to a setting. You can convey a character in really small strokes: just the way you stand, or your tone of voice, or what words you use. And, of course, there are always props."
She held out a medium-sized box, filled to the brim withmoddable accessories: bow ties, hair clips, hats, sunglasses, scarves, ties, gloves, headbands, and plenty of cheap-looking jewelry. "Here's your assignment," she announced. "Grab something out of the box -- anything you like. Build a quick sketch of a character, and then pair off for a scene. It could be anything: one of you buying morning coffee from the other's shop, or the last two survivors in the middle of an alien invasion -- just have fun with it."
"Let whatever prop you grab be a key part of whatever your character becomes," Jono added. "If you pull out a cane, perhaps you're a crotchety old man, or just some high-class wanker looking to impress by carrying one around that he doesn't actually need. I think there are a few fake moustaches in there. Will the one you pull out suggest that you belong standing over a railroad track, laughing and steepling your fingers as your tied-up victim cries for help? Whatever association you make is up to you. Like Lizzie said, just have fun with it."
He waved his hand toward the box.
"Pair off, and then we'll take turns on the stage with whatever props we happen to grab on the way up to it."
[Open to anyone who wants to drop in!]
Lizzie was less nervous than she'd been last time, but that had been a one-off workshop, and not an actual class. And hey, she was a worrier, she could admit that.
She clasped her hands in front of herself and began talking.
"Hi, everyone," she said. "My name is Lizzie Bennet, and this is Jonothon Starsmore." Had everyone met Jono? If not, he was the big blue guy standing next to her. "We're teaching an improv class this semester, so if you're here for something else, then you're in the wrong place. In which case, stay anyway, because this should be fun. I hope."
"She hopes," Jono echoed, smirking faintly. "If you're standing on a stage and you're not having fun, odds are you're doing something dreadfully wrong, or you're on the losing side in a political debate. I'm going to go on the assumption that all of you are familiar in some manner with the performing arts. You might've seen a film at the cinema, or the ballet, or watched your favourite band play in concert. It all really boils down to the same thing; self expression."
For a large blue angry-looking man who was leaning heavily on a pair of crutches and was too damn stubborn to hunt down one of the ten million healers on the island in order to remedy that, he really did seem big on that self expression thing.
"Obviously something like dance or music can be improvised," he continued, "but in this class we're going to focus on the more theatrical aspect of it... Of getting onto the stage without a script, and acting out a role using your wits alone."
"So we're going to forego introductions in favor of just jumping right in to our first activity," Lizzie said excitedly. "A lot of improv is just developing a character. Your character doesn't need to be fully rounded; just a suggestion or a caricature is enough. Have a few traits in mind, and an idea how the person will react to a setting. You can convey a character in really small strokes: just the way you stand, or your tone of voice, or what words you use. And, of course, there are always props."
She held out a medium-sized box, filled to the brim with
"Let whatever prop you grab be a key part of whatever your character becomes," Jono added. "If you pull out a cane, perhaps you're a crotchety old man, or just some high-class wanker looking to impress by carrying one around that he doesn't actually need. I think there are a few fake moustaches in there. Will the one you pull out suggest that you belong standing over a railroad track, laughing and steepling your fingers as your tied-up victim cries for help? Whatever association you make is up to you. Like Lizzie said, just have fun with it."
He waved his hand toward the box.
"Pair off, and then we'll take turns on the stage with whatever props we happen to grab on the way up to it."
[Open to anyone who wants to drop in!]
Re: The Stage!
By this point, Karina didn't believe Pinkie was anything but real but... she still hoped.
"I should probably count myself lucky that I'm not in this for four years. Just three."
Re: The Stage!
Come on, Karina! You always wanted a nickname, didn't you?
"But, no, Pinkie Pie's real. And just as enthusiastic as she seems. I don't think she comes with an off-switch." Ever. Mother Night, that pony. "The only hallucinations around here come from gremlins. Please tell me you were warned about gremlins?"
Re: The Stage!
because LJ melted. Gremlins, really?"Oh, come on! She already had an alternate name! Not that Karla knew that but still.
"And, sure, I guess." Karina was doubtful about her ability to keep Karla from calling her that anyway. "But only if I get to call you Footmot. Fair's fair."
Re: The Stage!
"And gremlins are a definite thing. They're tiny and green and like to stay in dark places. Their venom is hallucinogenic, and if they bite you, you'll spend a few hours doing very crazy things. Be careful and watch out for the ducts."
Re: The Stage!
"... I really want to accuse you of lying to me about the gremlins, though," she admitted. "Because I so didn't sign up for that."
Re: The Stage!
She stopped at one of the video's of Ben acting like an idiot and handed the phone to Karina. Sure, it could be a very dedicated improve act, but...wow. He was selling it.
Re: The Stage!
Karina stared at the video.
Then stared some more.
"Not happening to me," she insisted. "Ever." Oh Karina, you keep thinking that.
Re: The Stage!