As the earliest improvisers were busy crawling out of the oceans, developing opposable thumbs etc, they were also trying to develop the foundational principles of the art form in parallel. Now, for the first time ever, a team of paleoanthropologists have been able to piece together a few of the evolutionary dead ends that proto-improvisers used before they hit on yes, and.
A very early attempt to connect with scene partners - perhaps, but actually used a fairly similar formulation to the improv tool we know and love today. When one scene partner made an initiation, the other would grudgingly agree (perhaps) but then suggest a totally different idea instead (but).
Imp 1: You make the best coffee in town, Jackson.
Imp 2: Perhaps, I do, Mortimer, but have you considered that I have hands that are several times larger than my body?
Interestingly, the DNA of this mode of play is still observable in today’s sophisticated modern improv environment.
Another early attempt to build on your scene partners ideas, the slightly cumbersome I can see both sides of that, when was a concerted effort to make sure everyone’s idea was included.
Imp 1: You make the best coffee in town, Jackson.
Imp 2: I can see both sides of that, Mortimer, when I have more information I’ll let you know if you’re correct. And there’s also the issue I’m having with my hands beings several times larger than my body.
This version was not very wide-spread, mostly confined to what would become the South East of England. When an idea was floated, the improviser would shoot it down immediately and then awkwardly attempt to walk it back a bit.
Imp 1: You make the best coffee in town, Jackson.
Imp 2: I categorically and emphatically disagree with that statement, Mortimer. I am terrible at making coffee Although, actually thinking about it, it depends, doesn’t it? These huge hands of mine are something of an advantage when grinding the beans.
This one doesn’t really translate to a modern audience, in some ways it’s actually the closest to the final conception but the second half makes very little sense. Some experts have conjectured that this formulation was only used once when the performers were attacked by a sabre-toothed tiger halfway through the scene. If this is true, it’s achingly tragic and leaves us to wonder what might have been had the scene continued.
Imp 1: You make the best coffee in town, Jackson.
Imp 2: Yes, I do, Mortimer. I’ve been studyAHHHHHHHHHH RUN!
<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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