Circle Up

“Draw a circle in the air with your finger. Isn’t there something very satisfying about a circle? Its unending nature. Its constant symmetry. And think of all the times we’ve stood together in circles. In playgrounds, in schools, in sports and teams, in meetings or in prayer. When people come together, it’s often in a circle. Everyone in an equal position.”

– India Rakusen, BBC Radio 4 podcast “Witch” Episode 13, “Witch Circle”

I love standing in a circle, chanting, finding flow and connection. There’s nothing like coming into a circle of people and everyone throwing themselves into the agreed-upon ritual with joy and abandon.

But oh no, I’m not a witch. I’m an improviser.

Improvisers often begin their practice in a circle playing “warm-up games.” These games sometimes feel ritualistic in nature. If you’ve ever played the warm-up game Bunny-Bunny, you know what I’m talking about! (If you want to see it in action, go to :45 of this video on YouTube.)

There is one fantastically absurd chanting game in particular that my first team loved, and I still think back on it with a stupid-wide grin. Along with some clapping, stomping, and well-timed hip shaking, we’d open the chant with, “Czechoslovakia! Boom-sha-boom! Yugoslavia! Boom-sha-boom!...” That these places were countries at the time can tell you a bit about how long ago this was.

Why do we improvisers start things off standing in a circle? In working with a new group of students in a class or a workshop, I will explain that these circle games may seem silly and pointless, but they are actually accomplishing 5 things…

  1. Warming up our bodies

  2. Warming up our brains

  3. Bringing ourselves into the present moment

  4. Connecting to each other

  5. Getting into a state of play

After listening to the Witch podcast I will now add…

6. Everyone in an equal position

The circle democratizes everyone in the circle, which can make for some uncomfortability in a corporate improv workshop when the “big boss” joins in. As I am an empath, a highly sensitive person, and an improv instructor with 25 years of experience, I can acutely feel the awkward energetic shift when the hierarchy in a corporate culture is flattened by the participants circling up and finding themselves on equal footing, vulnerable and exposed. Some upper management can hack it. Some cannot.

I was brought in to run a once-a-month improv workshop with the leadership team of an international corporation to help bring them into a state of levity and cooperation before their monthly leadership meetings. During one of our workshops we were playing a circle game wherein if someone across the circle says your name, you have to say “yes” in response before you can say someone else’s name. (There’s more to the game, but I’ll spare you the details.) 

The head honcho team leader of the leadership team - who is reputed to have an explosive temper - kept forgetting to say the word “yes” in response to hearing his name. I would gently prompt him to say “yes” every time he forgot. There were some hesitant titters from the others and a little light ribbing - “Haha, you’re not used to saying ‘Yes,’ haha,” but I could feel an undercurrent of anxiety brewing every time he needed a gentle reminder. This was simply not how their power structure worked and shaking it up felt risky. 

That was the last time I worked with that particular team. Did the ego of Team Leader have anything to do with it? I’ll never know. They gave me a glowing review, so it wasn’t performance related fortunately, and there are always time and budget constraints with these kinds of corporate enrichment activities. And as all good scientists know, correlation does not mean causation. But my witchy intuition, that wise voice in my gut that never steers me wrong, can’t help but suspect it influenced the decision somewhat.

It feels vulnerable to come into a circle with others when there’s no table to block anyone’s view. It brings recovery meetings to mind - a data-driven proven way of getting help -  everyone sitting in a circle, being willing to open up, to listen, see and be seen.

One of the many tools we learn as improvisers is to “put ourselves out there.” For anyone new to improvisation, coming into a circle is a small first step toward achieving that goal. “Now make eye contact with everyone in the circle. How does that feel?” If it feels uncomfortable, we want to shift our focus to “seeing others” instead of “being seen by others.” When we are able to stand in a circle and give feelings of warmth and acceptance to others - instead of living in fear of what others think of us - we feel more free to be. 

“At the end of the day, I would argue that what truly makes us human are precisely those things that do not have any direct utilitarian value, things like music and art and sports fanship and arbitrary group membership, and of course things like ritual. And I think if you ask people what truly makes a good life, not just a life but a good life, they will point to those kinds of things. The kinds of things that create meaning for us.”

– Dr. Dimitri Xygalatas, author of “Ritual - How Seemingly Senseless Acts Make Life Worth Living” in BBC Radio 4 podcast “Witch” Episode 13, “Witch Circle”

Improv, like Wicca, has been referred to as a cult. I believe this is because dedicated improvisers often feel it holds a lot of meaning for them. The ritual, “Yes, and” dogma, and gathering together is like going to church, giving one the opportunity to be present with others in a like-minded community. Amy Poehler once said, “Improv is my religion.”

Immediately before an improv show the performers warm-up in a circle. They chant and play games like “Mind Meld” while bringing insane levels of heightened energy to the group dynamic. It looks absolutely ludicrous to the outside eye (if you’ve never witnessed it I highly recommend watching Don’t Think Twice by Mike Birbiglia), but all of that wack-a-doo ritual is in the service of conjuring up something collaboratively, mystically extraordinary that no one person could create on their own. Then they bring all of that joyful sorcery in front of an audience, and it looks like magic! 

Is improv a cult? A religion? Is there any connection between the birth of Wicca and Improv - both originating in the 1950s? I jest! Or as the kids say, “jk.” But am I jk? Or is there something there? Hmmm…

It’s worth pondering, but please don’t get the wrong idea. I myself am not a witch. I’m an improviser. 

(*winks while petting her cat*)

Lulu French

I'm a comedic improviser and teaching artist working with kids and adults in NYC and NJ.

http://www.lulufrench.com