Improv evaluation -- work & meta-work

This morning I was standing outside at BCC, reflecting on Improv.

I treat these classes as labs. I pause at the end of each to measure results, and to set goals for the next one. The limitation lies in me; whatever I can teach, they can do. There is no limit to the actors -- they could walk on water and live on light, if I knew how to teach it.

RESULTS
Overall, I give myself a D. On the scale of what I am capable of, that is.
2. The direct level, of conveying improv skills, went okay.
3. The more important meta-level -- of creating an environment in which improv skills spontanteously spring, well-formed and easily, into existence in the actors -- rarely occurred.
4. The meta-meta-level, a characteristic slope of "increasing energy, commitment, joy, aliveness, & organicity" did not occur.

ANALYSIS
1. I was only focused on the direct level, so that's all we got.
2. It's fractal. For best results, the character of the environment must match the character of the topic. Drama wants to be taught with serious penetration. Comedy wants to be taught with lightness & laughter. I was trying to teach comedy with serious penetration.
3. It's also fractal in that, if the lab is my most important work as a human, it becomes so for the performers as well. This time it was not, for me or them.

NEXT TIME
1. To make the environment match the subject, ground the work in Commedia dell' Arte: Teach them to be clowns first, and teach them their history. Once we've gotten the giggly bouyancy of commedia, turn to improv.
Measurement: Am I laughing?
2. To make the work maximally meaningful for me, a) figure out how to get what I most want out of life, through this class, b) focus my attention on the meta-level, c) teach them about the meta-work goals, and d) give them a meta-topic: teach them to invent improv games, not just play them.
Measurement: Is joy, aliveness, & commitment increasing with each class?
3. Focus on the thing PAST the thing. Don't teach them to skate; teach them to play hockey, and skating will seem like the easy part.
Measurement: Is improv seeming easy, and something else taking all our attention?
4. EXTRA CREDIT: Are they conscious of the model? Can they articulate what's going on?
Measurement: They tell me to shut up, they're busy. They gain autonomy & selfhood as a troupe.
5. TRULY EXTRA CREDIT: What the hell, just teach them the whole alignment/shared vision model.
Measurement: They're learning improv easily & excellently, because it's not the most important thing in the room.
6. NOTE: These extra-credit goals might become the goals, for the quarter after this.
7. NOTE: This is all my own resistance. I'm actually ready to teach all that extra-credit stuff, and they'd get it as soon as I do.

CONTEXT & FORGIVENESS
For me, the first laboratory -- the first time I teach something -- is essentially research: Find out the baseline, where we are starting from. Think, Do, Notice, Learn, is the basic algorithm. In me, ThinkDo is almost one word. Dinking, yeah, that's it -- dink until you notice something, then learn and dink smarter. Get everyone dinking & noticing together.

So: A for courage in tackling a new subject. A for picking a subject which matters a lot to me. A for relentlessly searching for how to teach Improv my way -- for how to connect it to my principles and ethics. And A for doing a TON of experiments; a ton of learning in a short time. C for Asking For Help; didn't start doing that till the end. BONUS: Rediscovered the Odin feeling of limitless willingness & commitment, the 7th week.

NOTE
As Jim McCarthy says, "Have the student teach me the thing they want to learn -- excellently, completely, and to the highest standards of human artistic endeavor." As with many of Jim's sayings, this straddles the paradox -- there is a part in there that feels right, and a part that feels wrong. But I know what he means in practice, so it's useful. Maybe my resistance is just my brain's normal sparky fritzing and sputtering when it encounters recursion.

PS
These posts always feel like my "important" ones when I'm writing them. Because they articulate many of the levels on which I'm working. But when I go back to reread later, they don't impress or engage me much. They're just... lab notes.