Recently, Foxy wrote:

Anyhoo. I think a show needs fulfil any promises it has made to an audience. By which I mean if you're selling a show as funny, you have to bring the funny. Imagine going to the "action movie of the decade" and finding out that it's a period drama about a happy goatherd and his affable father. It would be totally contrary to your expectations and you'd rightly feel cheated.

I really like what you say here, Foxy. I wholeheartedly agree: If you advertise yourself as something, you had best live to the expectations you set with your billing. Else, you're misrepresenting what you do. You potentially disappoint the audience. You take their money and run.

Now, granted, given that improv is not rehearsed (at least in the same predictable sense as theater), there is some room for failure, and audiences should probably realize that (well, they probably already do, many seeing improv as "sub-prime theater" or "unfunny theater"). But performers, if they're going to charge admission and charge audience time, need to get to a level of performance such that failure happens rarely. Now, what is meant by "failure" is partially determined here by how you advertise your show, and partially determined here by performing to general theatrical conventions or standards (speaking so the audience can hear, etc.). "Failure" isn't some vague concept.

As for the necessity for comedy in improv, I can't remember offhand what I wrote earlier on the subject, but of those people who think improv must make the audience laugh, those people throw the word "improv" around as a synonym--nay, abbreviation--for the term "improv comedy." That is,

Given some people,

"improv" = "improv comedy"

This is not a mathematical equation, else it would sound contradictory. ("Comedy" would probably equal zero!) It's just a definition. It's saying that when someone says "improv," he means "improv comedy." This is to say that for these people, "improv" must make and audience laugh because, Hey, that's improv! (What they mean is "Hey, that's improv comedy!")

The discussion is much like this for these people: Should insurgents terrorize? Of course they should, if you use the word "insurgent" as a synonym for "terrorist."

Remember that the word "improv" refers to styles of many different things, not just comedy. A jazz musician could say "Let's improvise" and probably no one takes that to mean, "Okay, sure, let's put down our instruments, get up, and crack each other up with scenes." You village has just been wiped away by a flood. "We're going to have to improvise" doesn't necessarily mean staging a show; it means building your home out of sticks and mud.

What happens when you start calling something "an artform"

A couple posts below, Foxy talks about the suggestion and wonders why we take one in improvisation.

I feel the answer to that question depends a bit on how you see improvisation. If you see improvisation as an art, then there is little obligation to do anything, as the word "art" tends to imply doing something without rules, and "doing something without rules" is not even a rule.

But if you see improvisation as an artform, then you start getting into obligation. If some practice has a form to it, generally speaking, it has some criteria you have to meet in order for you to properly say you're doing the form. If you miss those criteria, you aren't really doing the form. It would be improper to say you are doing that form.

That's only a law of speech: "You can't say you do something if you don't meet the criteria." And human life generally operates this way: If you don't do this, that, or the other, you can't be called a doctor, or a lawyer, or store manager. Missing those criteria denies you the privilege of being called those things. Some sets of criteria are more accommodating than others, but hopefully you see my point.

If you see improvisation as an artform, the question becomes, "What exactly is the form?" That is, "What are the criteria we need to meet to say we're doing the form?"

It just so happens there's no absolute answer, it really depends on how you define a form. Now, if there is a form-creator, and he lays out the criteria for the form, you are lucky in that you have a relatively easy way to determine the form and what falls within it and what falls without it. (You can still have some controversy because words are sometimes subject to interpretation...) But if you don't have a form-creator, or if that form-creator is relatively lax in his form-ation, then you start to have different artworks masquerading as the artform. Some of these may generally match the artform as intended, while others may drift noticeably away from it.

For example, I'm from the U.S. where we do Harolds, and I'm currently in the U.K, where Harolds aren't commonly done. When I worked with a group Foxy's in, one of the members said they had done Harolds, but for her a Harold was something like three scenes. (I can't remember exactly what she said.) Now, for me, a Harold is a LOT more than that. That is, the form of the Harold has a lot more criteria than that, and this person, from my perspective and my understanding of the form, had NOT done a Harold (relative to the law of speech I outlined above).

With respect to the solicitation of a suggestion from the audience, you have to ask yourself if it's part of the artform. If you don't believe it's part of the artform, then it's understandable to say that you don't need to do it--the form does not obligate you to solicit a suggestion. However, if you believe it's part of the artform, then you NEED to take the suggestion. If you don't do it, you are, to that extent, NOT doing the artform.

I think of drama: You do what's written in the play. If you don't understand something included in the text, you have to find some sort of justification for it. Presumably it is there for a reason that the playwright understands, so you don't just cut it because you don't understand it. Instead, you ask, "Why is this here?"

And I apply the same logic to improvisation, esp. where the word "improvisation" means "improvised theater." Treating improvisation as theater, you subject it to many of the practices of stagecraftspeople, and one of those practices is to revere the text, which in the case of improvisation is the form. And so you understand that I'm not peculiar in my opinion, look to what Elaine May said many years ago at The St. Louis Compass, one of the first U.S. improvisational theaters: "The actor's business is to justify." The comment allegedly came as a response to an improvisational actor who didn't think her character would make a particular choice. It wasn't her business to resist; it was her business to justify. (Cf. Something Wonderful Right Away by Jeffrey Sweet, and look at the interview with Del Close.)

And so, you look at the suggestion, and you ask yourself, "Why is it included in the artform?" The answer(s) at which you arrive may differ from the answers at which others arrive. Some answers might be "right" in the sense the form-creator reasoned their inclusion in the way you answered. Other answers might be "wrong" in the sense the form-creator did not reason them in that way. But those "wrong" answers might purely be "artistic" answers, understandable interpretations of why the inclusion in the artform. That's gonna happen when the form-creator is lax.

If you don't want to be obligated when you do improvisation, don't think of it as or call it "an artform." Else, generally, I'm going to uphold you to certain criteria, certain standards. If you want to be free from obligations, merely think of it as or call it "an art." I will be more open-minded to your work.

Which leads me to a potential future post: For an improvisational artist, what is the value in having a form?