One of the things that enthralls me about the art of improvisation is how deeply spiritual it is. I know, right? — the same form that yields the antics of Whose Line Is It, Anyway and Kenneth the NBC Page on 30 Rock is somehow connected to, like, your ch’i, your soul, your dharma?

The threads of my contention lead back to Viola Spolin’s work in the 1930s and ’40s, before her son Paul Sills and his cronies at the U. of Chicago focused her techniques on their forays into comedic improv with Compass Players and Second City. (more…)