Monday 7th January 2013

Last night's Iron Clad Improv went well, although, to be honest, it wasn't quite as well attended as I would've liked. That's to be expected, though; it's early days yet, both in terms of Iron Clad itself, but also the actual year: it's been a long while since most people have last been paid, and in these dark cold days of January, everyone's just struggling to get through the month. All that said, however, it was as I've mentioned a pretty good start back in the season, with lots of silly short form games.

Tonight, I'm running the first of three long form improv workshops at the New Venture Theatre in Brighton. I'm aware that there might be a few people reading this blog who aren't exactly sure what the difference between short and long form improv. I will probably talk about this another time, certainly as the May performances kick in, but I'm loathe to get into it right now, not because I feel that I'll get it wrong (alright, maybe that a bit), but also because there's so much brittle dissent even within the 'improv community' as to what the 'right' or 'wrong' way to do improv is. There's a well repeated and well meaning mantra that indicates that the first rule of improv is that ..... there's no rules. Which is all lovely and gorgeous and actually something I can get behind, but it's too easily exploited by people who just wanna be a bit lazy, and do uninspired, flabby and unformed improv. I've seen quite enough of that. Hell, I've been involved with enough of that. Double-hell, I've been responsible for enough of that.

Anyway, we're starting three sessions at the NVT for long form tonight, which promises to go well, judging by the amount of interest people have signalled already. At the very least, it's a slightly different reaction to the one I get when people hear what show I'm directing for the Brighton Festival Fringe this year (short version: my cast will rock up to the stage each night with absolutely no idea or plan of what play or even story they're about to perform). To be fair, I got much the same kind of reaction last year when I said I was directing Medea. Clearly there's a part of me that gets off that kind of reaction, and it's useless trying to claim otherwise. Even so, I have tentatively been on the lookout for a 'simple'/'traditional' script over the last couple of months. Or, indeed, being directed by someone else - acting, in other words, which I haven't done for almost a year now, and am just about beginning to miss.

However, in my research today about long form, I spotted an ad for a one-day workshop in London. It's in February, so too late to be useful for my January workshops, but if I can get together the cash, it will be very useful to reassess my own skills prior to directing the May show. Even though I'm not what is sometimes called a 'working actor' (anyone who's seen me on stage might question if even one of those two words are appropriate), but I always enjoy the idea of going back to training, even if it's merely polishing up existing skills. Another persons approach or viewpoint can serve as very valuable. And it's always great to meet up with other people who are going through roughly the same creative things you are.

That in mind, I'm doing another meet up tomorrow (Tuesday) - it's the first one, and I have no idea what it's going to be like. I get the impression it's a social event for procrastinating writers, in which - well, I suppose you can pretty much guess what the aim is. People who should be writing meet up (at the Marlbourgh Pub in Brighton, which has a lovely theatre upstairs), and after sharing hellos and drinks, pull out their various manuscripts, and - well, write. That thing that they don't actually get around to at home, because there's a box set to catch up with, or washing that needs doing, or a cat that needs de-clawing (I don't actually know about that last one). Just being in the presence of other writers silently scratching pen to paper (or fingers to scalp) is a great spur, particularly as there isn't, as far as I know, any requirement to share your work with others at the end of the night.

Currently, I'm writing this blog in my local coffee shop, which always seems to be tuned into the oddest radio station ever. Normally, there's a slight over balance in the amount of Gloria Estefan they play. Today, it seems to be all about the obscure Tiffany songs. Although, if you begin to query quite how I'm able to recognise Tiffany songs if they're that obscure, then I'm not sure I've got a satisfactory answer for you.