Stagefright: How to Deal

What to do to deal with Stagefright?

Breathe. Take a deep breath and let it out and do it again.

If you experience a thrill of nervous energy just THINKING about an upcoming improv workshop or show, you're not alone. It might help to know that this nervousness is normal. We have evolved to be on guard when eyes are upon us. Adrenaline helps us be on guard. Adrenaline makes us strong and fast but it also makes us nervous. There are strategies for dealing with nervousness.

What to do in the moment:

First: Consider your nervousness and ask yourself how it shows up. Where do you feel it first? What is your first symptom of nervousness? Reflect on the feeling and evaluate it in different ways. For example, if your first sign of nervousness is butterflies in your stomach, ask yourself: How many butterflies do you have? What color are they? Are they big or small? Where are they located exactly? If your nervousness shows up first as rapid heartbeat you might try counting your heartbeat. What song or style of music could your heartbeat accompany? A march? Rock? Rap?

Whatever your first sign is: Facial flush, shaking knees, blank mind, or dry mouth, take a moment, notice, and consider your experience of the symptom. Envision color, size, shape, and texture. Listen to the sound. Feel the pulse.

Second: Imagine that you're gathering up the symptom and tossing it out of your body. If it's butterflies, catch them in a net and free them.

If your first sign of nervousness is a rapid heartbeat, try this: Breathe in and out in time with your heartbeat (4 counts in, 4 counts hold, 4 counts out, 4 counts hold).

Third: Be patient. Once adrenaline is coursing through your veins, it takes time for it to clear from your bloodstream.

What to do in advance? Get a good night's sleep the night before. Get some exercise. Eat well. Drink your usual amount of caffeine - neither more or less than normal for you.

What NOT to do? Don't use alcohol or drugs to prevent nervousness when you're going into an improv workshop or show. While a glass of wine may give you the experience of being more relaxed, it also dulls your senses and slows your response time. While a little weed may make everything amusing to you, it really doesn't make you funnier. While coke might make you feel more confident, it doesn't make you more attentive.

To deal with your nervousness: Breathe. Take a deep breath and let it out and do it again.

What the Audience Knows

I'm on stage. I'm slightly blinded by the lights and charged with the energy of being observed by a crowd. My scene partner, Diane, says "You seem well". and I'm not sure how to respond. My instinct tells me to run. My training tells me to be positive and agree. Wide eyed I focus my attention on her and say, 'Yes', hoping against hope that something will come of that. A workshop I took a thousand years ago reminds me to focus on the scene's environment - some part of me knows that Diane and I are sisters in a victorian mansion - TEA! I pour imaginary tea from an imaginary pot into an imaginary cup and ask, "One lump or two" wondering if they had sugar in lumps in the Victorian era. Attention to the reality of the objects and the manners of our characters brings the scene into being. There is an odd feeling of calm that is suddenly shattered with the thought: "The audience wants SOMETHING to happen."

"Father went out in a hurry this morning, and he left you a message," I offer her an imaginary piece of note paper. I'm hoping that Diane might make something of it.

She does. Dropping her imaginary tea cup on the floor while providing her own breaking sound, Diane stands suddenly. She asks "Will you read it to me?" She throws the offer back to me. The audience laughs.

In this moment, I have no idea of where the scene is going. Diane has no idea of where the scene is going. We both know that the scene has some potential; it is a visceral feeling. The feeling is luscious and brief. We know it is going somewhere and we don't know where.

The audience knows. The crowd sits in the safety of the dark where ideas live. The imaginations of the members of the audience have easy access and they know where the story is going. Some know the news from father is good, some bad, some mysterious. It could be as childish as, "Father likes me best", or as adventurous as, "It's a treasure map!" No matter what it is, the audience expects it to be significant. They want the note to take us SOMEWHERE. When we are in the audience in the dark, we feel the potential of the moment and it feels like possibility. We wonder, what will the improvisers do?

Almost inevitably, one of the improvisers will kill the idea. An improviser will make a choice that prevents the scene from going somewhere. For example, if I look at the paper in my hand, open the note and say, "It's blank". I've just BLOCKED the offer. Diane could make a new offer like: "I ran into him in the hall and he told me it wasn't important." She just CANCELED the potential of father's note. Or another improviser, previously offstage in the wings, could enter with something new and unrelated. Paul as the butler might enter and say, "Excuse me Miss, Lord Westlington has come to call." He just SIDETRACKED the note with a new idea. On stage we feel the potential of the moment and it feels like danger. We want to protect ourselves from the danger. So when we experience the potential of the moment, improvisers often kill the idea. What makes us kill the potential of the scene? Fear.

As Keith Johnstone has said many times: "It's all fear guys".

To be a good improviser

How to be a good improviser: Know a lot. Talk loud enough on stage to be heard at the back of the audience. Portray a variety of characters. Express yourself, truthfully, in a variety of styles. Work to create story rather than jokes.

How to be a great improviser: Change. Let your partner change you. Let the scene transform you. Let the story change your character's emotion, beliefs, ideas, and status.

Like Yoga for the Brain

When I practice the discipline of improvisation, I feel more alive. In the same way we've learned that we improve our physical balance and function through stretching, we can improve our mental balance and function through improvisation. Improvisation is like yoga for the brain. Increase your mental agility and your ability to think on your feet with the practice of improvisation. To get started, try this: Just play a game with a friend. Tell a story together, taking turns, one - word - at - a - time...

"One - day - after - a..."

After a couple minutes, stop and ask yourself: Did you have long run-on sentences, no protagonist, was it chaos? Was it fun?

Try it again! This time try these suggestions:

- Name your characters: Start with a name - any name. "Bruce - wanted - to - go - to..."

- Use punctuation: Say, "period" at the end of sentences. You still get a word!

- Listen to your partner and honor the story that is being told: Let your partner change you.

How was that? Did it make more sense? Was it still fun?

After a few tries, people usually find that the stories improve and make more sense; they have heroes, events take place, and sometimes ideas take shape in spontaneous harmony.

One of the reasons I love this game is that it is so simple and no matter how many times I play it, it is still spontaneous and playful. If it were predictable, it would no longer be fun.