As part of a big Norwegian program (more on this later) in 013 we've added Puma and Monolithic on the 16th of September. Monolithic consist of Stian Westerhus (Puma, Bladed, Jaga Jazzist etc.); on baritone guitar and Kenneth Kapstad (Motorpsycho, Animal Alpha etc.); on drums. One part extreme metal, one part big balls rock'n roll, a whole lot of sweat and more energy than a raging flock of bulls. Monolithic seek to push the boundaries of what is physicaly possible in rythmic music today. Monolithic is total awareness and explosive energy throughout!

Puma is back in Tilburg after their six week tour in April, May and June! Their performance is not possible to stereotype, and is very hard to even describe though they have been compared to Supersilent and Moha at times. The listener will experience the most sincere of melodic music, ranging from loud intense physical gestures to the most concentrated gentle hum. The many aspects of their music, the willingness to both confront and compliment each other with both razor-edged musical motion to unrestrained drift to wherever, the balance between the almost rigorously precisely timed rhythmical patterns, to the limitless freeflowing musial strain, makes Puma haul an energy on their liveshows that very few other bands do after them.

This is kind of long. The short version is this: I was on public access television last week. It was mortifying. The result is uploaded here. I recommend reading Keith Johnstone’s book Impro. And the chapter “Stupidity” in Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche’s Myth of Freedeom. Support Public Access Television check out future episodes of The Colors Project. Read on if you like...

The fact that I have an act and that I spend a lot of energy trying to maintain it was never more painfully clear than it was last week when I had a meltdown on live television. With shallow breath I stood dressed in a wrinkled orange satin frock that belonged to a man in fur shorts, my face painted blue, looking into the bottomless black lens of the camera, trying to keep it together. It. My act. Not some on-screen performance but my act of being a sane person labeled Noa who was pulled out of a woman named Cristina and has been wiggling around this planet for decades since.

On this night, I had been invited to join The Colors Project, a collective of artists, deejays, musicians, and designers who moonlight as aliens, not to be confused with the Japanese all girl pop band of the same name. They have a regular public access television show on channel 57 Manhattan Neighborhood Network. They call it the “portal.” At 11 PM every Thursday the portal opens and anyone with basic cable can tune in to half an hour of unscripted chaos, color, noise, improv, psychedelic camera tricks, and self-indulgent performance. It is nearly impossible to describe so you just have to watch a few minutes.

A few minutes is all some people can handle. But if I tell you a little more about what was happening, the chaos might become richer with neurotic tension. And in turn it becomes an interesting display of human behavior... despite the core members status as resident aliens (this is their view and I must honor it).

I was quietly and totally unhinged that night. The thing that was most unsettling about participating in the show is that there is no apparent motive. There are no rules. The gripping in my chest was caused by my need for direction and conventions. Like a dog who is more comfortable with a strong master, I wanted someone to tell me what to do. In The Myth of Freedom, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche says that the animal mentality is very serious. “It makes even humor into a serious occupation. Self-consciously trying to create a friendly environment, a person will crack jokes or try to be funny, intimate or clever. However animals do not really smile or laugh; they just behave.” I was behaving. My smile, caught on camera, stark white against the blue paint on my face, was a mere bearing of teeth. It was not playful.

But that was what was being demanded of me. To be playful. Natural, spontaneous. It’s an enormous task. “The ultimate sense of humor is a free way of relating with life situations in their full absurdity,” says Trungpa Rinpoche.

The absurdity of The Colors Project is what drew me to it. Hair y make up took place at an industrial studio on 37th street on the far west side. Sequins and glitter and body paint and brownies and bottles of rum juggled through the cramped cement space as about 25 bodies prepared for camera. My friend and connection to the whole thing Ann Marie Popko was transforming into an alien named Pink. She’s from New Orleans and is accustomed to getting dolled up. It’s what she does for a living. When Popko visits me, I always end up finding glitter in my floorboards, spicy pecans in the cupboards, and a need of a week to recover.

She is my pixie. I’ve known her for 20 years. She is dedicated to a life of fun and parties. She met UV, the gorgeous ringleader of the Colors Project, in the Big Easy.

The absurdity of The Colors Project is what drew me to it but the absurdity of The Colors Project is what freaked me right the fuck out of my head. Popko didn’t prepare me. Problem #1: needing to feel grounded when there is no ground. All she said was to get some body paint and bring a costume. I decided to recreate a highly successful Halloween costume from years ago, the Dreamweaver. Thus problem #2: clinging to a concept. I went through my apartment and collected small and special things – gumball machine finds, miniature books, a trinket from my trip to Florence that looked like a movie camera and contained a slide show of Italian sites. These I stuffed into pink balloons which I blew up and stuffed into a crown made of netting. The idea was that people could pick out one of these “pods” and I would interpret their fortune based on the item which they could keep. It worked wonders when I first put it together in San Francisco years ago. I ended up weaving dreams all night and watching the sun rise while swimming in the Pacific with a tall, tall man, our different colored body paint running together.

So with that memory, I thought I was safe. But donning the costume all these years later, it seemed dull and tired. I felt old. Recreating is not creating, It’s clinging. Suddenly I panicked. I had nothing to offer. I was about to go on live television. Someone tossed me a huge smock to put on and I smeared blue paint on my face. Suddenly I looked very scary. Sexless. Fierce. I couldn’t own my appearance. I shrank inside my skin. Ultraviolet Cosmanta-three looked darling, Popko looked like a hot pink alien, Blue Prudenia looked sharp in his tight white pants, Redj Zee was a casual devil with dreadlocks, Sage Leaf Green was soft and smurf-like, Black Prudenia was black and nasty, Orange had on his fur shorts, Touching You was downing drinks and acting tough.

I was lumpy and blue with a net on my head and consumed with neurosis. It wasn’t just the costume. It wasn’t that I looked horribly thrown together and large and out of proportion. This terrible costume resembled so perfectly the terrible costume I put on every day. The act of being me. It's all so clumsy.

But the show had to go on. We made a spectacle on 10th avenue cramming into taxis. People waved and honked. We were mistaken for trannies and whores. The soundstage at Manhattan Neighborhood Network was cold which was a good thing because it was a steamy night.

We were greeted by a guard whose eyes pointed to opposite walls. He faced a television. I asked him if he was watching MNN and he wordlessly changed the channel, then turned, looking through me through a point on his forehead. I saw myself through a tunnel. I had entered the portal. Cameras and wires and set pieces found their places on the blue screen set.

I had asked people back at 37th street to bring piece of paper which I would weave into a piece of art as part of their fortune. But everyone was so

busy they couldn’t absorb what I was telling them. Only Blue sort of got it. He asked if he could bring a book and rip it up. Books are sacred and I would never destroy one but I didn’t want to be too demanding so I said that was fine. Now at MNN he found me quietly freaking out as the minutes ticked down to showtime and he smiled a big white grin made all the more white by the blue paint on his face. He displayed the book. A book of Buddhist sayings. I was speechless. Those are my people I thought. He was going to rip it up. I gripped my non-judging wand.

Body paint and glitter and the big black eyes of the cameras swirled. “Great!” I couldn’t look him straight but I wanted to. I wanted to connect. I was blue too. I had pods and so much more to offer. My teeth must also have looked white. I had chosen blue because with the blue screen behind us I had a chance of disappearing and I wanted to disappear.

I found a corner and tried to compose myself. Compose! Manufacture! Not be authentic! Whatever the hell authentic means. That's a whole other subject. I pictured Vajrasattva over my head as if practice could confirm my existence when it's designed to do the opposite. Then I lit myself orange with Manjushri. I put my guru in my heart center. Maybe, I thought, I could carry them onto the screen. Maybe I could light up at the last minute, guru light pouring through me.

Through the tunnel I saw myself sitting there with these idiotic thoughts and finally smiled a genuine smile. Grasping at the dharma to save me. It was so ridiculous. For a moment I had clarity. What Trungpa Rinpoche describes as “seeing things clearly, including self-deception, without blinders, without barriers, without excuses. It is being open and seeing with panoramic vision rather than trying to relieve tension. As long as humor is used as a way to relieve tension or self-consciousness or pressure, then it is the humor of the animal realm, which is extremely serious.” Message to me: OK you're being neurotic and look like a sexless blob but at least you are aware of that. It didn't relieve the pressure but gave me a measure of distance from it, made it funny to watch.

At some point while I was having this realization the cameras went live. The realization lasted half a second and then I sank back into my neurotic whirlpool. The image I have is of me walking through quicksand on stilts and still going under.

The cameras were rolling. We were live. It is a blur now. If self consciousness were an acid, I was dipped in it and trailing pools around the stage. UV was right into character, eating copper and singing in Spanish. Everyone was in character. Some were trying too hard. None desired my pods. Finally Green started planting a few in her tree. They got kicked around the stage. UV ignored one that was offered to her. Nobody wanted my goods. I felt completely alone. Popko was jiggling around doing her thing. I couldn’t breathe. I when thought I was off camera where black cables snaked on blacker floors and did some deep inhalations. Of course that’s when the camera was trained on me.

At one point Green picked up a piece of paper from the floor and started reading it into the microphone. It was a page of Blue’s Buddhist book. She was reading a sutra. No one would know this because she was being talked over by Touching You. It’s my favorite part of the episode. Someone finally flipped a switch and music started playing. Music leads people to let go. Everyone got looser. Just moving. My favorite character was the naked Italian who was making her second appearance on the show. This time she was fully dressed, not in anything elaborate. The last time she allowed the digeridoo player to paint her naked breasts and got the show pulled from the air for indecent exposure. This time she and Blue danced so freely and unself-consciously. She seemed very present.

In the hall before the show started she had spoken to me: Are you in a hurry?

I said No. She said Me neither, I’m not in a hurry. And then I realized I was in

such a hurry.

As soon as time ran out, I ran to the bathroom, ripped off my crown and clown outfit and splashed water on my face. I don’t look good blue. I really don’t.

When I came out, Blue was standing there. “You took off your color.”

“It’s not easy being blue,” I said.

“Tell me about it,” he said and I was reminded that I was not the only one. Everyone had his and her mind to deal with. Outside as we waited for taxis back to the studio for a wrap party, when I'd given up trying, I handed UV a pod. She popped it and out came the Florentine slide show camera, which pleased her greatly.

In his chapter on spontaneity in his book Impro, Keith Johnstone writes: “There are people who prefer to say ‘yes’ and there are people who prefer to say ‘no.’ Those who say ‘yes’ are rewarded by the adventures they have and those who say no are rewarded by the safety they attain. There are far more no sayers around than yes sayers.”

I said yes to coming on the show. I said a lot of subsequent no's, to myself, to the experience. But I was pressed into something I had to press into. Going to an unsafe place. There is something about this experience that touches on the mechanism that creates. Saying yes, loosening my grip, unleashes my imagination. “You have to be a very stubborn person to remain an artist in this culture,” writes Johnstone. “It’s easy to play the role of ‘artist’, but actually to create something means going against one’s education.” He also wrote: “Sanity is a performance.”

I am grateful to all the aliens of The Colors Project for creating an environment for this performance with all it’s absurdity to be displayed. See, I am an alien too.

Improvisation may have therapeutic effects, but the goal of impro should not be therapy. It is bad for the group, bad for the audience and especially bad for you. Improvisers are not trained as psychologists.

[fr]

Depuis que je fais de l'improvisation théâtrale, ma vie a changé. Je suis plus ouvert, plus dynamique, parfois même plus drôle... J'ai un contact bien plus facile avec les inconnus, mais aussi des relations bien plus satisfaisantes avec mes connaissances.

Bref, depuis que je fais de l'impro, je me sens bien plus adapté socialement.

Seulement voilà. Si je regarde (par hasard) sur Internet, je tombe sur ceci :

‘Thérapie : Approche structurée d'intervention en réadaptation et en intégration sociale'

Nous ne sommes pas loin de dire alors que l'improvisation à des impacts thérapeutiques dans la vie des improvisateurs. Et à cela je dis : ‘OUI, c'est vrai !' Combien d'improvisateurs se disent moins timides, se sentent moins seuls ou se sentent reconnus et utiles dans leur groupe ? En improvisation, on interagit avec des personnes. Et ces interactions sont à la fois régies par des règles positives (acceptation, absence de jugement, attention envers ses partenaires, etc.) mais se font de plus dans un contexte agréable (jeux, confiance, rire, découverte et prise de risque). Globalement, faire de l'improvisation dans un groupe est ainsi source d'un immense plaisir et la limite entre ‘troupe' et ‘cercle d'amis' devient de plus en plus difficile à discerner au fil du temps. De plus en impro, on est encouragés à faire et dire des choses que les autres personnes ne feraient et diraient jamais (mais qu'ils peuvent avoir dans la tête). On est encouragés à faire des choix que les gens ne feraient normalement pas (mais qu'ils auraient peut-être envie de faire). Et on est finalement encouragés à retomber en enfance.

Les parallèles avec la thérapie sont nombreux ! Et il faut bien le reconnaître, faire de l'impro ça fait du bien au moral. Mais en y réfléchissant bien, tout ce que nous faisons dans la vie et pour lequel nous nous impliquons vraiment change profondément notre vie. Oui, l'impro peut faire ça aussi.

Le problème selon moi vient du fait que certains improvisateurs font de l'impro dans le but de ressentir ces impacts thérapeutiques. Et à cela je ne peux que dire : ‘NON ! L'impro est un art, pas une thérapie'. N'essayons pas de résoudre nos malaises par la pratique de l'improvisation. La thérapie ne doit pas être le but principal de l'improvisation et ce pour plusieurs raisons, cruciales. En voici trois, qui selon moi sont les plus importantes. Prenons l'exemple d'un joueur qui intègre une troupe d'improvisation dans le but de réaliser sa propre thérapie.

1.         Il faut être conscient que la pratique de l'improvisation théâtrale est une activité de groupe.  Il y a (presque) toujours des gens sur scène avec nous, et il y a toujours des gens en entraînement avec nous. Ces gens sont venus pour apprendre des choses, pour travailler ensemble dans le but de créer une histoire commune. Or, lorsque ce joueur envisage l'improvisation (ou toute autre activité d'ailleurs) comme une thérapie, le focus est placé sur lui-même. Une bonne façon de rester dans sa tête et de se rendre encore plus difficile la création spontanée de scènes. Il faut garder à l'esprit que le meilleur moyen de faire de la bonne improvisation est de se concentrer sur les autres, sur notre environnement, et pas sur soi-même. Surtout pas sur soi-même. Bref, envisager l'improvisation comme une thérapie n'aide pas à faire de la bonne impro.

2.         En général (et je n'exagère qu'à peine), il n'acceptera pas la critique, il ne supportera pas de se remettre en question. Il trouvera souvent des excuses et pourra même retenir un entraînement pendant des heures pour parler de ses propres soucis (ou expliquer ses retards de la même façon, ou se plaindre qu'il est trop fatigué). Il peut même craquer au cours d'une scène qui devient trop dure pour lui, arrêter en plein milieu sans tenir compte du fait que d'autres joueurs sont en train de travailler. Lors de discussions autour d'une scène particulière ou d'un spectacle, il trouvera les remarques méchantes et les prendra pour lui seul. Ainsi, son comportement en dehors des scènes sera centré sur ses soucis, et ça ne fait pas du bien au groupe. Bref, envisager l'impro comme une thérapie peut freiner le développement du groupe.

3.         Souvent, ce joueur a l'impression de faire beaucoup d'efforts pour le groupe (après tout, il essaye déjà de ‘ne pas trop en parler'). Ainsi, il ne faut pas lui demander plus d'efforts. Peut-être que c'est maintenant au groupe de faire des efforts, d'être plus compréhensif. Tout à coup, c'est au groupe ou au coach de gérer ce problème, parce qu'il est devenu un problème dans le groupe même. C'est ce qu'on pourrait appeler un transfert de responsabilité - et pourquoi pas de culpabilité (rendu d'autant plus possible que la troupe est devenue un groupe d'amis). Mais on ne doit pas modeler le groupe de cette façon. Ce n'est pas juste de forcer ses partenaires à traiter son problème, de les drainer de leur énergie, parce qu'on envisage la troupe comme son propre groupe de thérapie. Bref, envisager l'impro comme une thérapie fait du mal au groupe entier.

Je mets ces trois exemples dans cet ordre parce que je pense qu'ils reflètent ainsi la progression logique des impacts de cette façon d'envisager l'impro.  Pour rendre le sujet encore plus complexe, je rajouterais que certaines personnes n'ont pas commencé l'impro dans le but d'effectuer une thérapie. Mais ils ont vu des impacts positifs, et ont continué l'impro dans ce but, ce qui conduit aux mêmes écueils.

Pour résumer, venir à l'impro comme à une thérapie personnelle est néfaste pour le groupe, pour le public, mais aussi pour ce joueur. Si on apprend quelque chose d'important sur soi avec l'impro, c'est génial. Mais ce n'est pas pour cela que l'impro est faite. On dessert l'impro et nos partenaires si on les tourne autour de nous seuls.

Enfin, le point de vue du coach me semble important à préciser.

A priori, le coach n'est pas psychologue. Il n'est pas formé à la psychologie en tout cas. Il doit se concentrer sur le groupe et sur le spectacle à produire. Du point de vue du coach, le groupe doit passer avant les individualités. Et si un joueur franchit les limites décrites précédemment dans ce post, il doit prendre la décision qui s'impose : le joueur doit partir du groupe. C'est une décision difficile, qui a un coût moral certain, mais c'est le moindre mal. (De même d'ailleurs, si c'est le coach qui envisage sa troupe comme sa thérapie, les joueurs doivent s'en séparer.)

Pour essayer d'intervenir avant que le problème ne prenne trop d'ampleur, il peut être bon de rappeler, en début d'année ou avec un nouveau groupe, que le coach ou le groupe ne peuvent rien pour aider les joueurs à résoudre leurs problèmes personnels. Chacun doit se concentrer sur l'improvisation (dans une troupe d'impro, quoi de plus normal ?). Si ils ressentent des impacts thérapeutiques, géant, mais personne ne doit compter dessus.

Nå er det snart tid for semesterstart og den 25. august fortsetter vi vårt improkurs til glede for gamle og nye improvisatører. Møt opp klokka 19 på Teaterscenen på Chateau Neuf hver mandag hele høsten.

Hilsen Peter

Instruktør for Improgruppa

Igual estoy harto y tengo ganas de que hackeen a todos los sitios que se la pasan requiriendo datos privados irrelevantes y pidiendo referentes para ganarte una cafetera pedorra, con el solo fin de llenar una base de datos de merda.

En effet, mardi dernier, l'équipe des Jaunes de Benoït Chartier (Réal Bossé, Sophie Caron, Laurent Paquin, Corinne Gigère, Steven Munger et Karine Bourbonnais) a gagné la Coupe Charade, après un merveilleux match disputé contre les Oranges de Stéphane Bellavance (Simon Boudreault, Luc Bourgeois, Marc St-Martin, Émilie Bibeau, Delphine Bienvenue et Anaïs Favron).

C'était la 2e année consécutive que les Jaunes remportent cette honneur en improvisation ! Je suis extrêmement contente pour eux. ^^ Je n'ai qu'un immense BRAVO à dire.

Petite anecdote : À tous les matchs où on est allé cette année, on écrivait sur les papiers de commentaire qu'on voulait que Sylvie Moreau revienne. Je sais pas si ça a marché. XD À la fin, on a aussi écrit qu'on revoulait un match Dans une galaxie/LNI, comme en 2004. Ce serait tellement hot ! : D

En tout cas, vivement l'an prochain !

Die Zuschauer haben es in der Hand. Soll Kein Schimmer den ganzen „Herrn Kolpert“ innerhalb einer Minute zusammenfassend spielen? Wollen die Zuschauer sehen, wie es genau zu zuvor gesehenen Szenen kam? Oder was darauf folgte? Oder sollen die Szenen in einem komplett anderen Genre wiederholt werden?

Da nichts geprobt ist, wird alles möglich! Denn so ist Improvisationstheater – spontan, energiegeladen und immer anders! Das Publikum hat das Sagen – aus dessen Vorgaben entstehen aus dem Stegreif Dramen, Krimis, Western, Komödien und Abenteuer, zum Teil auch mit Musik und Tanz.

Kein Schimmer besteht derzeit aus sechs Spieler/inne/n mit jeweils mehrjähriger Impro-Erfahrung. Regelmäßige Auftritte haben sie in der L’Aristokrassie in der Bismarckstraße / Ecke Brüsseler Straße.

The Dutch master drummer playing in Afrika.

Bon ok,  pour moi, le théâtre c'est du loisir mais ça n'empêche pas le trac quand même.
Sinon, à l'école, j'ai joué des saynètes, comme tout le monde. J'ai fait plus tard de l'impro en américain (histoire d'allier les langues et le jeu et le jeu de langues). J'ai aussi fait partie d'un atelier à Nantes.

Au fait, je fais partie de la Troupe du théatre des Déchaussés à Nantes.
Je vous en dit plus très bientôt.

• Mercato Saraceno sarà messa a Ferro e Fuoco;
• Caterina Boschetti, Il libro nero dei bambini scomparsi;
• Claudio Guidi e il progetto JOLIE;
• Imprò Cesena e il saggio di fine anno;
• Adotta anche tu una centrale nucleare.

Vi consigliamo di seguire le nuove conversazioni sul nuovo sito e sottoscrivere il feed delle notizie e dei commenti.

dorinta: vreau ca bona sa fie un parinte nebun care sa insiste sa isi invete copiii sa cante la bas si eu sa fiu copilul lui, evident. ce negresa buna as fi. asta cand as creste mai mare, desigur. sau sa fiu baiat? nu conteaza.

People è uno degli ultimi progetti di Kevin Shea (super-batterista che ha lasciato la propria impronta in gruppi come Talibam! e Storm & Stress) che lo vede collaborare con la chitarrista e vocalist Mary Halvorson, incline al jazz e a bizzarre modulazioni vocali, astro nascente nella New York che conta.

Il duo cerca di forzare i confini della forma canzone, ibridando cantautorato e free-jazz in maniera inedita e affascinante. Shea, senza fermarsi mai (mai!), intavola un vero e proprio dialogo stridente con i registri pacati e ebbri della Halvorson, senza però cadere nella cafonaggine gratuita.

Disco dell'anno 2007.

Was hatten wir noch da ? Tomaten Ruccola, Mozarella, Blauschimmelkäse, Speck Serrano-Schinken.

Warum gelingt das eigentlich immer am Besten, wenn die Zutaten reste sind ?

Und was macht Ihr so aus Resten ?

¿SE IMAGINA PODER ELEGIR SU PROPIA PROGRAMACIÓN?

¿DARLE NOMBRE A LOS PROTAGONISTAS DE SU TELENOVELA?

¿COMPLETAR EL DIÁLOGO DE SU HÉROE DE ACCIÓN?

Y AHORA... ¿SE IMAGINA UNA TELE GIGANTE 3D QUE TENGA TODO ESTO Y QUE LE CUESTE $70.00?

NO SE LO IMAGINA, ¿CIERTO?... PUES NO LO HAGA,
VÉALO USTED MISMO

LA TROPA QUE IMPROVISA Y EL JUGLAR PRESENTAN:

IMPROVISIÓN DE BOLSILLO

VIERNES
20:20 HRS

ESTE VIERNES 25 DE ABRIL:

• Yanil
• Ivan Larios
• Carlos Pineda
• y Beto Córdova

Presentador

• Eduardo Castañeda

Músicos

• José Serralde
• José Ángel Lugo

EL JUGLAR
MANUEL M. PONCE · 233
Esq. Juventino Rosas. Colonia Guadalupe Inn
A tres cuadras del Taco Inn Revolución, frente a la iglesia, cerca del metrobus El Olivo, a cuatro cuadras del Helénico, entre Insurgentes y Revolución... y ya.
$70.00
Descuentos del 50% a estudiantes, maestros e INAPAM

AGRADECEMOS SU COMPRENSIÓN DURANTE ESTAS DOS SEMANAS DE AUSENCIA Y FELICITAMOS A TODOS AQUELLOS QUE TUVIERON EL PLACER DE VER EL FIIMEX Y EL SEGUNDO MARATÓN DE IMPRO TEATRAL, PARA QUIENES NO LO VIERON, HABRÁ UN BLOG HABILITADO MUY PRONTO PARA QUE LEAN DE TODO LO QUE SE PERDIERON.

http://myspace.com/latropaimpro

'LA IMPRO ES AMOR'