Imprology

In impro, as in life, some people find it really hard to be part of a scene that isn't about them.

Nihilism has a bad press. Here are three positives:

First, nihilism can be liberating. By rejecting intrinsic or absolute meaning, individuals are free to create their own values and purposes, fostering personal autonomy.

Second, it can promote honesty, as nihilism forces a confrontation with illusions, encouraging authentic, clear-eyed reflection on existence.

Third, it can foster creativity and innovation, since without an inherent blueprint, people can imagine and invent new ways of living, thinking, and acting without constraints from traditional frameworks.

Wishing you an interesting day.

A new study out of the University of Tokyo looked at what's actually happening in improvisers' minds during a scene.

Two things stood out.

First: improvisers hold multiple perspectives at once. Character, actor, writer, director. All live, all active. They measured it. This echoes the three brains theorie our students will be familiar with.

Second: the pauses are doing something. In Japanese theatre, there's a word for it, ma. The researchers found that silence between performers carries intention, reading, and possibility. The gap is full. The moment you stay with it, it starts filling you.

We've understood this in our bodies for years. Now there's data. Thank you! Link to abstract in comment.

Hughes & Kudo (2026), Improvised Theater and Consciousness, CiNet-Kobe International Symposium.

The character for “ma”, below, combines the characters for “gate” above with “sun” below, an image of light beaming through the empty space of a doorway. Its Japanese meaning is not easily translatable, but it generally denotes a pause, gap, or negative space.