David Razowsky wants to set “yes, and” on fire

Improvisers from around the globe flock to Chicago to learn the “right” way to improvise, yet veteran actor (actor, not improviser) David Razowsky’s new book throws “yes, and” in the trash, sets it on fire, composts it, and plants a tree with it. He’s earned the right, after ten years on Second City Chicago’s mainstage with Stephen Colbert, Steve Carell, Amy Sedaris, Rachel Dratch, and others; serving as artistic director of Second City Hollywood; and now working as a traveling instructor who has taught in prisons, and even delivered a TedTalk. He’s philosophical, funny, and says “fuck” frequently. Razowsky sat down with me to talk about his methodology, the good ol’ days of improv,, and Bacon-Flavored Bacon Bacon.  

Sheri Flanders: So how was writing a book? 

David Razowsky: It’s sort of like waking up one morning and you’re pregnant. And you don’t know what creature got you pregnant, so you don’t know how long the gestation period is, and what you do know is it’s too late to abort it. The most important thing is to keep it alive so that it doesn’t kill you. Then when you’re like, “I think I’m gonna give birth to it,” you go to the Internet and google lists of names for the book, like baby names. Then, if you’re self-publishing it, it’s like there’s no doula, there’s no midwife. It’s like being in a cave and . . .

. . . biting on a stick?

That’s the process!

Most improv instruction is structured around the eight-week class. As a teacher I was always like, “OK, I can see half of you have not gotten it yet, and now I have to move on to next week’s lesson,” and felt super frustrated. What are we missing by being stuck in this format?

In the book, I talk about how I reached a point at Second City where I didn’t want to deal with a rigid structure anymore. That allowed me to do whatever the fuck I need to do. I don’t do eight-week classes anymore. I feel like one of the problems is—what’s the word that everybody’s using nowadays? Pedagogy. My advice to improv teachers is to not worry about what you have to finish teaching and be with the students every step of the way. You’re modeling what kind of an improviser to be by modeling what kind of a teacher you are. Every once in a while somebody says, “Wow, you really spent a lot of time with Alice.” And I’m like, “Alice needs a lot of time right now, and when you need time, I’m going to spend time with you.” Did you ever study with Del [Close]?

No. That was before I moved to Chicago.

Del had a class at iO. It wasn’t a class in improvisation, it wasn’t a class in Harold, it was a class on what was on Del’s mind. I loved it. He would say, “I went to the Art Institute and I saw some Hopper. I think we’re gonna do some Hopper scenes.” And I’m like, what? But when you have the confidence of the students, knowing that they’re along for the ride, they’re gonna do whatever the fuck you want to do.

A Subversive’s Guide to Improvisation: Moving Beyond “Yes, And” by David Razowsky, Boyd Parker Press, paperback and ebook, 496 pp., $9.99, amazon.com

In the book you talk about how most improvisers don’t identify as actors. Why is that? 

When I started at iO in 1985 or ’86, there were maybe four improv schools in the country? Wow, I could be totally wrong! [starts counting] Dudley Riggs? I don’t know if the Committee was around when I was there in San Francisco, Keith Johnstone, of course, Second City, Players Workshop which was connected to Second City at that time, and iO. So six. So the people that I took classes from weren’t improvisers, because there wasn’t such a thing. They were actors, directors, and writers. They were imparting skill sets that are vital in good scene work: blocking, viewpoints, tempo, repetition, typography, architecture . . . I think the reason that people don’t teach it now is they didn’t learn it. 

I love the way your book throws out all of the traditional improv rules like “yes, and,” and that there’s a section geared toward advanced improvisers.

Say NO! There is no play that doesn’t have the word “no” in it. And there is no play that doesn’t have a question in it! There is no play where they’re not talking about somebody who isn’t there! All of that. Why is it that improvisers aren’t fucking allowed to do that? Fuck off!

I don’t teach “yes, and,” so it’s already advanced. I’m teaching, “look at your partner right now, what are they thinking?” And keep going with that. So what ends up happening is we start opening our hearts more, and we start going, “I trust you, you trust me.”

There’s a show called Naked Lunch, a podcast by that guy, Phil, Rosenberg? Rosenthal? One of my fellow Jews, whatever. He interviewed Elaine May for her first podcast. She talked about when she first really sat down with Mike Nichols, just to fuck around on a park bench, or something, she realized, “He’s got my sense of humor! And I like his sense of humor!” The need for “yes, and” doesn’t apply to them! Because they’re living in their own world!

In your book you recall your father telling you to get a real job, and having a meandering career like many artists—myself included. As artists, there’s always the doubt of “Is this what I should be doing?” How did you navigate that?

There’s something that happens to us called compulsion. I’m compelled to do this, I have to do this, I must do this. As much as I feel like I don’t want to do this, I have to do this. 

Like somebody says “Come out, we’re gonna eat dinner together” you’re going to go, even though you just ate. And you’re reading a menu for the restaurant, and you see Bacon Flavored Bacon Bacon! Anything below that, you’re not paying attention to, because you cannot get that Bacon Flavored Bacon Bacon out of what it is that you’re doing. As much as you try to do something else, it’s not going to work, because that’s not what you want to do! There’s always this thing in the back of your head that’s going, “Yeah, like, I’m making the money, and yeah, I got a parking space, and yeah, I got bennies. But you know what?—”

I could be having Bacon Flavored Bacon Bacon. 

Exactly. After a while, the universe gives you signs. It was just a matter of me being at the right place at the right time, which really helped push me. Then to be cast with Mick Napier and Splatter Theatre—which changed the face of theater I think in Chicago, arguably the Annoyance changed the face of improvisation and sketch writing—I was part of that. I was also in a theater company with Carell and Colbert and Amy Sedaris, and that was the universe saying, you’re in the right place. I couldn’t fucking get enough of it because I was given the opportunity—and I think that that is a huge thing right there—I feel I’m coming from a place of privilege. I never take that for granted. 

I went into your book as an improv person, ready to nerd out, then I realized that this book is also really accessible for somebody who’s like, “I don’t do improv and I’m never gonna do improv.” You just have a lot of fun stories about life and theater.

This book is for anybody who has a curiosity about what it was like to be putting on a sketch show, how to work with people, no matter where it is that you are. It’s for writers, I think it’s also for directors. And that’s why there’s a Buddhist part of it—it’s like, this is for everybody. This is for any creative person, you know? Do whatever it is that you want to do! Fuck the voices that are telling you not to do it!

Read More