After recently publishing my general survival guide for improv festivals, a surprising number of you got in touch to ask for one specifically focussed on teaching (especially if it was for the first time). I’m so glad, because it means festivals are continuing the good work of reaching out to new voices, rather than just falling back on tried and tested facilitators. Here’s what I wish I’d know from the start.

DO teach something you love, not just something you think will sell

There’s a strong temptation to run a class that you think will be popular rather than one that is 100% authentic to you. Because every festival has a Play big characters workshop, then it stands to reason that if you offer that class, it will fill up. But this is reductive reasoning, it’s much much better to offer something unique to your particular interests and perspective. You might not get as many people but the students who DO turn up will be your specific flavour of nerd and the workshop will go much better. And that’s how you build word-of-mouth reputation. By being unapologetically yourself. Eventually, people will turn up because it’s you teaching the workshop - but for that to happen - you have to be as unique as possible, as early as possible. Less How to master the Harold and more The theatre of Stanislavsky performed by Ewoks (but you can’t have that one because it’s mine).

DON’T be disheartened if you don’t sell out your first workshop

Having said all that. Be prepared to only have 4-5 people in your first class. Festival workshops are expensive and people are choosing between multiple options for any given morning or afternoon slot. Especially when you’re an unknown quantity - recognise that people are taking a chance on you and be excited and inspired by every space you fill, rather than beating yourself up over every space left open. Commit to giving those who are there the best workshop of their lives - you already have the advantage of a stunning teacher/student ratio. Once, in Sweden, my Pop Culture workshop failed to sell a single ticket. It happens, it’s hard, but you do get over it and you live to teach another day.

DO experiment with exercises, or create brand new ones

Again, it’s tempting to fill your workshops with exercises that you know work, that you’ve seen absolutely kill with another teacher. But beware of using the old faithfuls too often. Especially at improv festivals, your students will have done those exercises to death. If you are going to play Mind meld then at least have a new spin on it, try to articulate why you are using that exercise and what you hope people will learn from it in the context of what you’re trying to teach. Better yet, create your own exercises that are utterly unique to you. This might be slightly controversial but give your exercises and games interesting names, so that if your students go off and teach them too, they can be linked easily back to you. My final piece of advice here, is to offer your new workshop locally first (ideally at a discount or even for free) so you can work out the kinks before you go international.

DON’T allow extra people in your festival workshops

I used to do this a lot. Allow my friends and fellow teachers to attend my workshops for free as BONUS students. I’m now of the opinion that this isn’t the harmless practice I once thought it was. Festival organisers have spent a long time balancing class numbers and pricing them accordingly - it’s not your place to disrupt this. Even if your class isn’t full, it’s a tricky situation. If other students find out that someone is getting the class for free, it can be a real headache for the team running the festival. So probably best not to do it.

DO attend as many other classes if you can

Even once you’re experienced enough to lead a workshop, that’s no excuse to stop learning. I’ve seen improvisers become teachers and then immediately feel they’ve hit a standard whereby they no longer have anything to learn from anyone else. This is, and I’m sorry I have to use this word, utter poppycock. I still see Patti Stiles in workshops at festivals, I don’t think any of us have an excuse not to pick up our notebooks and do likewise.

DON’T immediately teach a showcase workshop

Another potentially controversial one. I think having a showcase at the end of a workshop, whereby participants get to show their work to a larger festival crowd, significantly increases the difficulty of facilitating that workshop. Showcases have their own gravity, they prey on the minds of your participants. Whereas a non-showcase workshop participant can simply play and learn at their own pace, blissfully unaware of what the outside world might think - a showcase means they somehow feel they have to prove themselves. No one does their best work under those circumstances. This is before we even consider the logistics of getting a group of people who might have met for the first time that morning to become a cohesive cast capable of performance by the evening. A showcase requires you to be teacher, director, task master, problem solver and often producer and light & sound designer too. Don’t submit to that kind of stress too early.

DO spend time on creating a lesson plan

Improv is wonderful, but you shouldn’t be improvising the content of the workshop whilst you’re running it. I know we give a lot of credence to spontaneity in this community but there are times where good planning is essential. Have a really good idea what you’re going to do in a class - note down exercises, games and teaching points - make sure they flow from one to another - so that the warm-ups you choose, actually warm up the improv muscles necessary to attempt the exercises you’ve picked and that these in turn build towards a new skill or skill set. I’m also a big fan of explanations and reflections between exercises. Actually use the improv brains you have in the room, even a workshop is a collaboration. So in summary, plan well and then don’t be afraid to deviate from that plan if something happens that’s more fun.

DON’T go into so much detail it stops being fun

And that’s the crux of the whole thing - make sure it’s still fun. Don’t beat yourself up. Don’t prepare so thoroughly that there’s no room for flexibility. Keep it as loose and good vibes as possible. Be like a swan, above water - graceful, serene and noble, below the surface - really good at improv 🦢.

<aside> 💡 Hey, my name’s Chris Mead. I write an article about improv almost every week. You can get the latest in your inbox by subscribing to my newsletter. Or check out the archive.

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