Improv Wisdom – with Patricia Ryan Madson

Danny Buerkli: Patricia Ryan Madson is professor emerita from Stanford where she began teaching in 1977. She’s been teaching drama since ‘62, in fact, and is the author of the really wonderful book, Improv Wisdom. Patricia, welcome.

Patricia Ryan Madson: Thank you, Danny. It’s an honor to be here, really.

Danny: Patricia, what do you teach when you teach improv?

Patricia: Well, I think what I’m attempting to do is to cultivate some human qualities. The first thing I say when I start a class is the most important thing you need to know about improv is it’s not about you. Of course, it’s about me. I’m here too. So what I’m trying to teach is shifting your attention from our normal self-centered point of view onto your partner, what’s going on in the world, to being more involved.

It’s a shift of perception, I guess, and then experience. And I think I’m hoping to try to teach some social skills of how to work with others and how to trust. I call it trust reality, trust the way it is. You don’t have to like the way it is, but it’s a sense of confidence, not in the self but in things as they are, reality or the way it’s working. Does that make sense?

Danny: Yes. Absolutely. And we’ll go into sort of some of that in just a minute. But before we do that, you’ve been a teacher for a very long time. And I think in college, as you were taking drama classes, the person running the program at the time came to you and said, I think you’ve got what it takes to be a really good teacher.

Would you consider being a teacher? Which is extraordinary. So two questions. What did he see, and what makes you such a good teacher?

Patricia: Wow. Oh, what a grand question. I feel that teaching is a way that we get to impart whatever life wisdom we’ve discovered in ways to help others uncover important things about life. I, for many years, was interested in studying philosophy. I love to think about how we think about things and what we value.

And so I think I learned to teach by teaching and then discovered it was the greatest job in the world because I had summers off. The calendar was wonderful and that there was a chance that I could keep learning about life and others through the process of teaching. I guess I always felt lucky to have Raymond Hodges who kind of threw me in, saying, “I think you’d make a good teacher.” And then starting at Saint Catherine’s School in Richmond, Virginia, it became natural and I moved from a preparatory, a private preparatory school into teaching at various universities and got really lucky to get a job at Stanford.

And I think I got the job at Stanford because while I had credentials to teach acting, I also knew something about how to teach voice and speech, all of that projection, the techniques. As I taught through the lens of teaching acting, I discovered, especially at Stanford, that students were good at following a script, but they were not so good when I would say, okay, what do you think or feel? How would you react in that situation? They weren’t connecting with their own feelings and thoughts and humanity.

So I needed some kind of method to help unlock all of that, the creativity and all of the imagination that’s in all of us. Even though the Stanford students wanted the right answer, I wanted their human response. So into my life popped Keith Johnstone, the wonderful British guru who has become a famous spokesperson through his book, Impro. And Keith came into my life in 1980—I think I figured it out—right at 1980 because he had just published Impro in 1979 and I met him at Esalen Institute where he was teaching alongside my tai chi teacher at the time. I was all interested in Eastern thought and religions.

And Johnstone’s work then kind of came into my life and I began using his games and exercises in my drama classes. And it was wonderful. It helped the students to begin to flourish. And because one of the things in improv is there aren’t any wrong answers. And so that’s a new point of view for certainly the kind of student that Stanford would attract.

So what does that mean? There are no wrong answers. It means that we learn to set aside the natural capacity we have for judging and evaluating something in advance to opening to it and seeing what happens if I go with this, if I follow whatever is going on rather than evaluating it. Stanford students hate mistakes. And most of us probably do.

But a favorite quote of mine is a mistake is an event followed by an evaluation. Cats don’t make mistakes. And so when we get into talking about how improvisation is helpful as a life skill, mistakes take on a new meaning. It’s another event that we can work with in some way. Sometimes, I mean, there are many evidences in the world of art where an artist made a mistake and it turned into their greatest work.

Danny: When you teach, how do you start a class?

Patricia: Well, I have to improvise too. So when I come into the class, I see who’s there and what’s going on. I look at the temperature of the room, what the students seem to be doing, and I usually have a game or an exercise in my pocket. If I need to improvise, I need to get the body involved. So I get everybody up standing in a circle and we might walk around and I might say, raise your hand and clap your hand to another person and say, I’m glad you’re here because I’m interested in them noticing who else is there rather than doing something that shows themselves. So a lot of the games are about becoming aware of what’s happening in the room, doing something that creates a new interaction, and preferably one that’s positive.

That’s why I’m glad you’re here makes me look you in the eye, clap you on the hands, and notice. It also kind of relieves a little bit of tension. Okay, we’re in an improv class and what are we going to do? There are a lot of opening games, throwing the ball back and forth, an imaginary ball, where the emphasis is not on being creative in some interesting word but the emphasis is on how to receive. Notice what is coming at you, how to receive it and then acknowledge and then find someone else and send the ball.

So improv is an interactive subject that lets us playfully work with other people in ways that are different than most classes. I’m not going to give a lecture with a slideshow and a PowerPoint on the six ways to improvise. We’re going to stand up and make some noise, laugh a little bit, and then my whole class evolves out of how that works, how we’re doing, and maybe there are some people that are still a little bit jet-lagged from the day, or we need to pair off and play some games together. Would you like to tell a story right now, word at a time with me?

Danny: Sure.

Patricia: Okay. So, we’re just gonna see what kind of short story comes up. I’ll start. Whenever he goes

Danny: to

Patricia: the

Danny: shop.

Patricia: He

Danny: buys a bar of soap.

Patricia: Ta da. Whenever he goes to the store, buys a bar of soap. Terrific.

Danny: What an excellent story.

Patricia: But it is a story. For most people, that’s a surprise. You’ve studied improv at Stanford some years ago. You’re aware that, without any particular plan, we can create together. More important than some kind of brilliance is the dynamic that goes on between two people or more when we’re doing something together without an agreed-upon plan. I think one of the gifts that Johnstone gave us—I think he’s one of the first writers I know that talks about the value of yes—and developing a positive response to whatever is going on.

Danny: There’s a wonderful warm-up exercise where you walk around the room, you point at things, and you shout the wrong word.

Patricia: Shout the wrong name.

Danny: Yeah. You shout the wrong name. You point at a table and you shout chair. And two things. It’s surprisingly difficult.

And somehow, the room looks different afterwards. Yes. Why is that?

Patricia: I think that disassociation drill shifts something in our perception, in our motor activity, and the room always does feel and look different. It’s a great exercise if you’re, say, in your office and you’re working on something and you’re a little bit stuck and you don’t quite know what to do right now and you might think I’ll go and have a cup of tea, or I suggest you get up and you play that game. And if you can push yourself to go as fast as possible as you trip: mother-in-law, bricks, dynamite, chairs, silver, tree, mock, my gosh, four, fireplace. In fact, our listeners might want to pause this podcast and walk—it works best if you’re also moving around as

Danny: Yes.

Patricia: As you put things. It plays with your mind.

Danny: I highly recommend it.

Patricia: I recommend it.

Danny: Why is it that when we’re watching improv, which is really satisfying, somehow it’s very clear that watching simpler scenes is more satisfying than incredibly elaborate, complex, outlandish things?

Patricia: I think it’s a misunderstanding about creativity or innovation. So the notion that innovation sort of by definition is something that nobody’s ever thought of. It’s way outside the box—that’s the common parlance for that. And it’s a misunderstanding because it’s actually easy to get something—fried mermaids is my example of something that nobody’s thinking about. You put together two weird things and that’s creative.

Johnstone’s view and what I want to prescribe is it’s more valuable and interesting, we’ll see, to look sort of inside the box or what is right in your visual mental field, look with sort of fresh eyes. Open yourself to something ordinary. A scene about a table as the opening prompt is likely to be more interesting than fried mermaids because that’s already a joke and it’s finished. So I do believe that we’re all incredibly creative if we let go of the notion that the product of that creativity needs to be something that is way out in left field.

Danny: What is a good scene?

Patricia: A good scene is where two humans are reacting and working with each other to liberate the imagination of their partner. So being more interested in how I can take whatever offer you give to me and make it work, make it come alive. I think human interaction is what’s interesting. And Johnstone says that the true test is whether in the course of the scene, one or the other of the characters is changed. They don’t just hold on to their position.

So often, beginning improvisers will start a scene just with some kind of an argument, some way that I don’t like this or you need to stop putting trash in my yard or something that is combative. And much more likely to produce an interesting scene would be an offer that is kind, or I noticed you got a new haircut. That’s looking good on you. Or did you do that for a special event? By engaging your partner and often in a positive way, you’re much more likely to get a scene that’s interesting. These days, with so much on television—thousands and thousands of movies to watch—I’ve been noticing that so much of a film these days is just about conflict and violence.

And I’m so much more interested in watching stories that are about humans who, like me, make mistakes and are having interesting adventures or trials and whatnot. I think improv teaches you to look for the story that can come out of something other than just aggression or conflict.

Danny: And how do you find the end in a scene?

Patricia: When someone is changed and recognizes that in some way. We don’t—it’s hard because we don’t like to be changed. We like to kind of hold our position and feel strong about whatever we think or whatever. But to shift—we’re seeing so much now in the way that our governments are not working together because that capacity to interact with each other and change one another isn’t functioning like it was meant to in some democracies or at other times. I would like to get all of our legislators in a room and do some improv games where they have to say yes and accept the ideas of their partner and then work with them.

Because almost any idea can work if we decide to work with it.

Danny: You mentioned Keith Johnstone, and I have his book right next to me here. This is the book that got me into improv. So he was clearly an important influence on you. Another important influence in improv in general, but I think also on you, was Viola Spolin.

Patricia: Yes.

Danny: Can you say more about her and how her way of thinking about improv is different from Keith Johnstone’s?

Patricia: I met Viola Spolin many years ago when I was first teaching in my early twenties. I went to a conference in Chicago, a theater association conference, and took her workshop. And Viola Spolin had a kind of fresh, positive mind. A lot of her work is about perception, about noticing and receiving what’s happening. I remember one of her games where we were to sit and imagine that we were watching a ping-pong game.

So we would take in—we would act like a person watching a ping-pong game, and it would make our eyes go back and forth. So these games trained you to see and embody different states of things. She was just a great teacher of perception. Everything begins with attention. In fact, what we’re paying attention to becomes our life, if you think about it.

Because if I’m sitting in a business meeting and a PowerPoint is going on, speakers giving me interesting remarks, but what I’m paying attention to is a series of problems that I have with my cat. And we’re often off in our heads with stories and fears and plans and whatnot. But if I notice what I’m noticing, then I can shift back—perhaps what I need to be noticing is the speaker’s content or there’s something interesting and important about why I’m here. I think the study of improv and Viola’s work and her first book on improvisation in the theater—I think it’s called Improvisation for the Theater.

Danny: For the theater. Yes.

Patricia: Yes.

Danny: Okay.

Patricia: She gave us games for paying attention to life and helping us to embody it. Her work didn’t include the work on status that Johnstone is famous for. Johnstone is a fascinating character and someone with a little bit more of a dark side to his persona and to his teaching. Whereas when I think of Viola Spolin, I think of light and bright colors and positive energy. And Keith sometimes is really interested in—

Yeah. The dark side’s the only way I can talk about it. It’s not—some of his work with masks allows characters and content to come forward that you wouldn’t find otherwise.

Danny: This is so interesting that you bring it up because I was gonna ask you about the mask chapter in his book. The book is very accessible to a lay, non-theater audience. And then comes the last chapter, which is the chapter about masks, and it is very different indeed—dark and weird.

Patricia: Yeah. Dark and weird. In fact, when I teach an improv class and I have his book as one of the required texts, I actually say, you don’t need to read the chapter on masks. That is optional. Some people find it problematic in some way.

So of course, when I say you don’t need to read it, students will immediately go to that chapter. Isn’t that weird? But with masks, his theory—it’s kind of not supernatural, a little woo-woo. His belief, and I’ve experienced this, is that a mask can sort of liberate by its use, liberate a different kind of spirit. So we get into another level of acting with his theories of mask work.

And I’ve seen him teach masks in various classes, and it happens. When you put on a mask, it gives your body-mind permission to go somewhere. This happens all the time at Halloween where we put on a costume, and if you put on the costume of a pirate with a sword at your side, somehow all of a sudden the body begins to take on some of the spirit of those roles, and that’s helpful in acting. All acting is kind of mask work.

Danny: Can you say more about his work on status?

Patricia: Well, Johnstone points out that everything we do is filled with status and is making some kind of a statement. There are four status possibilities—say what they are and then try to explain. I can be raising my status, which is actually what I’m doing right now by lecturing on status. I’m the person who knows something about status. So I’m telling you about Johnstone’s status.

I can be raising my status with my behavior or speech or body. Or I can be lowering my status and we sometimes do that if we’re self-deprecating or we say I often start a conversation on a podcast and you know I’m really—I’m nervous about this. I’m hoping that it’ll be useful to you. When I begin talking about myself in an honest way, I’m lowering my status. You can perhaps even feel that in my voice.

Or I can be pointing out that, Danny’s work with government, you have been doing some really important work. Your recent paper on AI, I think, has some brilliant insights and helps us possibly in the future deal with what’s coming our way with that new technology. You’re a great writer, Danny. So you can see I’m raising his status. Or I could say, I read that paper and there’s another author who’s also looking at that work that has a different point of view. So I can kind of put him down a little bit by my comments, etc. And so Johnstone points out that there is no such thing as a neutral interaction.

We’re always in some way raising our status, lowering it, raising the others, or lowering it. And so if we understand that this dynamic is always in play, it can help us understand certain situations. A good example is we maybe have a coworker or a boss who always seems to be only raising their own status or lowering others. And so when I see that that’s their nature, if you will, then it’s not so personal when he puts me down or lowers my status. And it may be that to get along with that coworker, what he needs is to have his status raised.

I’m gonna look for every opportunity to make sure that I notice his value and compliment him on what he’s doing, listen, etcetera. Listening to someone else is a way of raising their status. Anyways, these status games, once you see them as games, it’s fun to play. And then we begin to see how these dynamics are at work in our everyday life. And we can use that knowledge for better relationships.

I had a coworker once who was one of those who had to have high status, and I used to end up kind of confrontational. I had to try to raise my status and go back and forth. When I realized what was going on, I started shifting that and raised his status and listened better. And our whole relationship just flowered. We have control of our own reactions or how they’re perceived.

Also, a lot of the status work shows how our physical behavior, whether we are standing or sitting tall with our shoulders back, which tends to give the effect of a higher status, or whether our shoulders have softened and whether our head is bowed or we use our hands and wiggle them a lot. So we can send off signals of dominance or submission. Keith points out that dominance and submission is what this is about, but he doesn’t like to use those words because they’re loaded in a sense. Certainly, just Jane Goodall came to mind because her work with the animal kingdom certainly shows that status is alive and well in the primates’ world and we’re part of that.

Danny: Certainly not exclusive to us. Thinking of people who have influenced you or have been your teachers, as it were, what have you learned from Peter Brook?

Patricia: Oh, thank you for bringing that up. Brook was one of my heroes. I think he had a brilliant imagination as a director and someone who understood the whole meaning of live theater and how it can be an art form of a very high quality. He knew actors and he knew the stage and he had a vision and a kindness that I remember. I did a thesis on him and spent some time with his company in Paris watching.

He’s brilliant. At the time, I wasn’t involved in improv, but I was very much involved in traditional theater. And he was my superhero of someone who was working on a very almost spiritual level, I would say. Brook was one of the masters. I think he passed just recently in the last years.

Someone who has influenced me, another teacher that I mentioned at the end of Improv Wisdom, I say I’m standing on the shoulders of two giants, Keith Johnstone, a theater person, and then the other is psychologist David K. Reynolds, whose work I recommend. His work on something called constructive living, a set of philosophical ideas based on Japanese psychotherapies. Something called Morita therapy, developed by Shoma Morita, and Naikan. Naikan is a Japanese word that means looking inside. Naikan is a form of meditation created by a Japanese gentleman named Yoshimoto Isshin.

And Naikan is about noticing, really noticing what we’re receiving from others, from the world, at any point in time. Right now, I’m receiving, starting with your attention and perhaps the attention of some listeners who’ve kindly taken the time to tune in thus far. There’s a technology that is making this possible. Actually, when we think about it, we probably had a meal today and that food came from somewhere, was grown by farmers and brought to a market and then brought into our houses and consumed and cared for. Naikan is about shifting the attention from yourself onto how this self is able to live and function in the world thanks to the specific work and efforts of others.

And it’s a practice that I also had the privilege of experiencing. I went to Japan and sat in the monastery for over a week and looked at the details of my life in relationship to what I’ve received, starting with my mother. And Naikan is about three questions: what have I received? What have I given back or done for them? And the third question is what trouble and bother have I caused them?

Which is not a question we normally ask because we know a lot about the upside of that. The trouble that people cause us very often fills our mind with what’s wrong with so-and-so.

Danny: Easy to answer.

Patricia: Yep. Yep. I know a lot about that. But we almost never examine who am I troubling through the way I’m doing something or whatnot. And it’s helpful and humbling to really ask and try to answer that question.

A lot of constructive living is about again shifting the attention off of yourself onto the abundant world that is providing and giving to us even if it isn’t always what I choose or want. It’s a big difference. For example, if I’m in a restaurant and having a meal and the waitress that’s coming back and forth I notice is sort of surly and has kind of an attitude and maybe she didn’t refill my coffee as fast as I’d like. It’s quite possible that what I focus on is, notice, she’s not very nice. But what I miss is the other side of that is that this lady who’s maybe having a bad attitude has brought the food that allows me now to eat and sustain my life.

A lot of times the things that come to us, we judge in some way, but we miss the fundamental truth that our lives depend on the work and the kindness and the efforts of others. And so Naikan is about enumerating those things, keeping a list every day, noticing what it is that is sustaining me now. It’s an antidote to the critical mind, which we all have. One of the maxims in the book is wake up to the gifts. And it’s about that topic.

I’m often asked what’s my favorite of my maxims or is there any one of those that I find that in the world that we live in now, that maxim of waking up to the gifts and noticing is more important than ever. There’s a great book by Rob Walker called The Art of Noticing. I highly recommend the book. It’s a series of exercises about teaching your mind to pay attention to different things in different ways. So if we work with—I think improv is a great subject to practice working with your own attention.

What are you noticing? What are you interested in? How can you contribute? Improv Wisdom has 13 maxims but I’m finding as I get older a lot of people don’t have time for 13. So I’ve condensed the 13 maxims into four maybe more easily memorable topics and they’re all with As, the four As.

Then the first—we’re talking about—is attention. We have to notice what is going on or where we are or what’s happening. In fact, often at this point, I would say close your eyes. Let’s do that. Let’s close our eyes and listen to me for just a moment.

And so my question is, what’s around you? Can you create in your mind the vision, the picture of the world that you’re in right now? What are you sitting on or standing near or what’s around you? See if you can get that picture. Okay, after a few moments then I’ll say, okay, now let’s open our eyes, look around, and what hadn’t you noticed before?

I’m often surprised—well, I thought I was pretty much aware of my surroundings. I sit in this area a lot of the time but there’s a card here that I hadn’t realized. Anyway, attention is the first thing that we have a control over and that we can shift it around and notice what we’re noticing and then place that attention where we want it to be if it’s off in some kind of dream state. So attention, then acceptance. And that’s where improv—acceptance doesn’t mean liking, but it means opening to and letting whatever that reality is that you’re working with, letting it in without pushing it away, or blocking.

In improv, blocking is the cardinal sin. We don’t want to push it away. We want to say what’s going on here.

Danny: This is the yes and bit that many will be familiar with.

Patricia: Yes. Yeah. The yes and. It’s adding. Then the third A is—

I’m sorry. Attention, acceptance, appreciation. That’s where the waking up to the gifts come in. Once I open to something, what have we got here? What can I appreciate about this?

Maybe you’re in the dentist chair and he finds, oh, you’re gonna possibly have to have a root canal. That’s not going to be fun. But you might then appreciate, aren’t I lucky I’ve got the dentist that has found this and he has the credentials and all of the work that it’s going to take to make this better. And aren’t I lucky to have insurance that’s going to cover this? Or what can I appreciate even about a negative situation?

Okay. Attention, acceptance, appreciation, then action. That’s where what we do matters. So if we live in an improv world where we open to things, we’re noticing, we’re gonna adopt a yes-and kind of mind. What’s my role here in making things better or adding to or helping to raise the status of the work of my partner.

So there you got it. Small nutshell.

Danny: These are great. And they rhyme with—Rob Poynton, another improv teacher, has a saying. I think he says, improv can be boiled down to three things: let go, notice more, use everything, which rhymes very nicely with the four As.

Patricia: Great. Yes. He’s wonderful. And those three things of letting go, which is important to get to the acceptance part, and notice more and use everything. I love use everything, especially now.

Danny: In ‘82, I believe, you spent a year traveling around Nepal, Indonesia, India, Thailand, Japan, possibly other places to study performance pedagogy. How did that change your pedagogy?

Patricia: Wow. My goodness. That delights me. Yes. That trip around the world right at my fortieth—yes.

Right at my fortieth birthday. What I learned was for me an answer to Einstein’s question, is the universe friendly? I found that the universe was friendly, which meant that wherever I went, if I had some problem or need, there was always someone who showed up to help me or to point me in the right direction or to lend me a sweater or something. Because the trip was fascinating in today’s standards because it was without a phone. No one had phones in nineteen eighty, eighty-one, eighty-two.

And my way of getting around in the world would be I had a ticket that took me around the world and I could stop in different places. And I could keep going in the line of direction. So I couldn’t backtrack, but I could go up and down and forward and I could stay as long as I wanted. So I had different experiences and adventures along the way and I always found that help was there if I opened to it. And then I always looked for ways in which I could in some way give something or be useful.

Sometimes it was maybe a foot rub or to tell a story. Part of the trip I was in India and I went to a drama school there. And so I taught some acting exercises and some voice things in exchange for their kindness to let me visit the school. And I spent time in a Buddhist monastery in Nepal and then crazy adventures in Thailand on the beaches and things. So I moved through the world with the help of other people.

And it’s this theme of shifting—about it being all about me. And I think today, if I tried to make that trip, me and my phone would be figuring out where to go next or what Yelp said about this bed and breakfast, or I would call a Waymo or something. That trip around the world was wonderful because I was still able to interact with people in the world, move from place to place, and recognize that humanity—we’re all in some ways wanting the same things. We want friendship and kindness and a place to stay and human needs are very similar around the world, even for those with whom we disagree. Wish we could get that remembrance more clear today for all of us.

Danny: There’s an obvious convergence of interests between a lot of people who do improv and people who are interested in—I’m not sure what the right term is—mysticism, Eastern religion, different ways of putting it. I think you’ve talked about improv as being the Tao, the way, rather than—can you say more about that convergence and at least why these two schools of thought and practices tend to be compatible?

Patricia: You’re right that there’s, certainly for me, some kind of alignment with a lot of the Eastern religions—Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism—which are all worthy of study and interest. They often feature the notion of acceptance and openness. There’s some sort of philosophical convergences with the principles in improv that make us go forward. And it’s kind of fun to look at those, just the four that I just talked about: attention. Almost all of Eastern thought, I think, has some form of meditation or of working with the mind to develop—today the term is mindfulness, which is very much kind of in fashion. Bringing your attention again into the present moment, being with whatever is going on there, accepting it.

So some of those notions of acceptance and being positive seem to align. It was interesting that you kind of picked up on that.

Danny: You’re in California. You mentioned you met Keith Johnstone at Esalen, which is on the coast, of course. How has the fact that you’ve spent the last decades in California, of all places, sort of shaped how you do improv?

Patricia: First comes to mind is this notion of the Eastern religions. When I moved to California, really the religions that I’d studied were Western religions, Christianity and Judaism. And getting to California, there was this flux of different Eastern religions available. There were monasteries and temples and a whole bunch of different kinds of Buddhism that were available, and so I was just like a hungry philosopher trying out different classes and courses—part of the Zen Center in San Francisco and another Mahayana Buddhist organization over in Berkeley. And so I think being in California, we’re right on the coast and we’re closer geographically to the Eastern countries where many of these religions and philosophies grew up.

So I was happy to have a place to study and meet other like-minded people.

Danny: Something that came up actually earlier but that just popped back into my head is when we sort of go back to the classroom and how you’re teaching, there’s a thing called side coaching.

Patricia: Mhmm.

Danny: Can you talk about that and why is it so effective?

Patricia: Fascinating. Because Johnstone is a master of side coaching. I’ve been in classes with him and then there’ll be two students on stage doing something and he’ll throw an idea to them which changes the direction of what they’re saying or doing. He’ll side-coach them to go somewhere different. It’s very effective as a teaching method.

I have to admit I am not good at that and I don’t side-coach because I’m not looking for a particular result. I’m more likely to let the scene kinda keep going wherever it’s going or not. And then afterwards, we’ll say, what was working? And after the fact, we’ll look at what we did or didn’t do and perhaps point out now, if you’d accepted that offer, it might have taken a new direction. So I’m not myself very good at side coaching.

Johnstone was brilliant. And I often would not have thought of the coaching note that he gives. He has insight about the structure of scenes in theater that he really was a master at. And to this day, I don’t perform improv. I’m not working with any of the groups as an onstage player.

I do enjoy going to Bay Area Theater Sports or some of the groups around town, but it’s much too scary for me to go on stage. Oh, boy. That’s hard stuff. I can’t do that. All I’m useful for is pointing out that the things that make improv work are also useful things in life and we could all be more of a yes-sayer and a better listener and be more grateful.

Danny: Well, and an excellent teacher of those who do go on stage, I would add.

Patricia: Thank you. Yeah.

Danny: Final question. What should I have asked that I didn’t ask?

Patricia: Sorta, what’s up now with me? Alright?

Danny: What is up now with you?

Patricia: Well, I just got a new haircut yesterday. I’ve got short hair for the first time in my life. And I’m gonna be teaching one last time for Stanford for the continuing studies program for the winter quarter. They have a winter quarter starting in January and I’ve been teaching a class for now almost thirty years called Everyday Spontaneity: Improvising Your Life, which is using the improv games that we’ve been talking about, and it’s open to anyone. I’m going back into the classroom one last time, and I will turn 83 years old on December 3rd. So, wow.

I have to compliment you—as a host, you did more homework in preparing for this than anyone has ever done. I’m flattered and delighted by the questions you asked. It was fun to be able to revisit some things about my past. So thank you, Danny.

Danny: Thank you, Patricia. This was such a pleasure. Thanks so much.

Patricia: Have a great day.