Dancing in the Streets, Literally

Years ago I taught improv at my synagogue every now and then, on Sunday mornings. If the holiday was Purim, the kids and I would play games about kings and queens and whatever else came to mind. A favorite moment was acting out stories about King David in the marketplace when this boy Maurice said he wanted to play a detective in the scene. I remember being so charmed by his unabashed desire to be a secret agent no matter what century we were in. (This memory is made all the more poignant since Maurice died of a brain tumor a couple of years ago as a young teenager.) There was also a girl named Lea in the class and she was dramatic and rebellious, full of mischief.

Fast forward about ten or so years. This past Friday afternoon I ran into Lea and her mom sitting outside the Dairy Queen, eating ice cream. It was gray out, muggy, mid-afternoon. I was due back at my desk at World Headquarters, Lea had a physics test to take at school and her mom was also heading back to work. Everything felt so sluggish, like we could have all laid down for naps right then and there.

When I asked what’s new, Lea said she was going to be on the news in a short clip showing her dancing in scenes from West Side Story accompanied by the University of Wisconsin-Madison band.

I said, “Oh phooey, I won’t be home to see the news. Will you show me the dance right here, right now,” She said, “Sure,” and set her ice cream cone on the table.

She then proceeded to dance parts of “America,” “Cool,” “Dance at the Gym” and “Maria” on the sidewalk. Complete with turns, jumps, plies, releves, hip swivels and snapping. Right in front of me. I mean, gosh. This tall, gorgeous, strong young woman was dancing the original choreography. In all of her glory. With poise and sparkle. I had asked so casually and had no idea I’d be rewarded with a small concert right then and there.

It felt like that scene in Fame, the movie about the arts high school, when the kids poured into the streets of New York City, dancing on top of and around all the cars, stopping traffic. Even though it was one dancer on the sidewalk in the Midwest, Lea stopped me in my tracks.

I woke up after that. Her brilliance, her boop boop dee doo was contagious and spilled all over me.

I couldn’t stop beaming.

Could it be that we are all walking around ready to burst into song and dance, some of us more readily than others? What if we simply asked each other? If someone asked you to set your ice cream cone on the table and show off what you’re passionate about, what would you do?

Show Some Emotion

"I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,

I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea."

Walt Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"

So my buddette, my improv guru, my Bunny girl was in town and one gray morning we went to Mother Fool's for some hot chocolate with her dear friend Gilly (pictured on the left).

We were all kind of tired and blah and did I mention it was gray outside?

And then...
Until...
I fired up my cell phone camera and simply said something like, "You are so excited to be here you can hardly stand it" and immediately they struck a pose. They were game. They woke up. In the spirit of all terrific scene partners, they didn't think or argue or comment or do anything but say YES. And then they posed. And since we live in 2008, a world of instant feedback, we viewed the photo immediately. And they giggled delightedly.

Well. This was the beginning of our 'photo shoot.' I tossed out different emotions—confused, angry, afraid, etc... for more posing. The ennui disappeared, as did the hot chocolate. Some of the kazillion poses:



After we tired of that 'kind' of posing I suggested hand posing and tossed out ideas such as, "You're in a haunted house and just heard a funny sound," or "You are Rockettes, dancing at Radio City Music Hall."



And then some foot posing! Yes, indeed, foot posing. Why limit expressiveness to just faces or hands? More scenarios and premises. None of us quite remember what they were, but just by looking at the photos I think perhaps there were suggestions about fleeing, best friends, bravery, shyness.



Who knew that four feet could reveal so much emotion? (Not this pony.)

Then we put our socks and boots back on, bundled up, drove back to Gilly's house singing, making up songs about the sun and the weather, wailing, screeching loudly, laughing, laughing, laughing all the way home.

Remote Control Theatre

Was just at the Denver Improv Festival.

My personal improv workout began before the official festival with my (BFF and) true improv teacher Liora. I’ve known her since she was two and have ‘studied’ improv with her from the moment we met: she was in a pink tutu and we were being chased, then hiding, pressed against a wall, eyes sparkling at each other as if our lives were on the line. She’s my soul sister, artistically, and always pushing me beyond my creative comfort zone.

One night after dinner Liora designed the remote control featured here. (Her family only watches TV if they’re watching a movie, FYI.) She then handed the remote to me, told me to announce which button I was pressing and proceeded to act out the various channels and scenarios ala the remote.

Sports included commentary as well as action (the Rockies were just going into the playoffs when I was visiting), Comedy involved lots of pratfalls and physical shtick, ‘Liora Main’ was a series of ‘my favorite color is, my favorite song is,’ etc… Other buttons included fast forward motion or reverse, with or without sound. I added the following ‘buttons’: Slow Motion, Gibberish, Tragedy (which involved a lot of fainting and falling on the floor) and Drama. Liora didn’t skip a beat, even as several buttons were pushed at the same time, such as: Sports/Slow Motion/Reverse or Comedy/Gibberish/Fast Forward or Tragedy/Silent.

She improvised kazillions of scenarios for about an hour. We (the adults) shifted from the table to the living room, Liora got ice cream sandwiches for us and also ate her own—and made everything part of her ‘scenes.’

I think of that line from the old Superman show: “Able to leap tall buildings at a single bound.” That's my girl: fearless, fierce—yet relaxed—while creating, while playing, while inventing.

What a pleasure to witness how Liora relishes the unknown, rolls around in it, takes suggestions and just transforms one idea to the next, with no room for insecurity or doubt or second-guessing. The remote control theatre experience just flowed.

Then it was my turn to act out the scenes as Liora took over the remote. It was tricky to switch gears so quickly. As with anything done well, she’d made it look soooo easy. Believe me, it wasn’t. But it was a good workout. After running through all of the buttons, Liora stayed on the Drama channel, calling out ‘switch’ when she was bored and wanted to see a new scene in the same genre. I improvised back-to-back stories about planting cotton, fires, a banjo, rocking chairs on a porch, heartbreak and disappointment, love gone awry and generic longing. That’s all I remember, as it’s all kind of a blur.

Needless to say, this remote control theatre experience made me fall in love with my sweet friend all over again. How did I get so lucky to find someone who has this much fun?