Edith Piaf sang here!

4/19
(5/20)
(I can’t believe these events are already a month ago. In some ways it feels like last week.)
After an afternoon workshop in the Paris Suburbs, the leaders of Eux treated us to a WONDERFUL dinner at Ian’s favorite restaurant Chez Papa. The restaurant specializes in southwest French food. After the excellent meal, we decided to see The Improfessionals in a mix-show: one in which they performed in rotation with another improv group and several standups, poetry-jammers, et al.
The show was to be mostly in French, but we’d already enjoyed shows in German, my French is better than my German, and at very least our presence would support our new friends. Seeing an improv show in French wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Little did I expect that I’d be asked to play!
The Improfessionals were short, they only had 3 players at the show. In my workshop with them a few days ago, we’d played around with some highly physical, highly theatrical, anything-goes, avant-garde improv techniques. They felt like playing with some of that and who was I to turn down another opportunity to play an international show?
The room was hot and stuffy. I hadn’t seen the entire show leading up to our late appearance, but the reception that a couple of the previous acts got led me to believe that I was stepping in front of a hostile-ish audience. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in front of a hostile house, it wasn’t even the first time I’d played in front of a hostile house internationally. The vibe stepping on stage actually reminded me of one of the shows I played in Dublin while in college. The audience HATED having a yank on stage and refused to give me any suggestions other than the titles of Irish-language folk songs that I clearly would not know.
It was a moment of Déjà vu as Caspar began to take a phrase for each of the players on stage. I just KNEW that someone was going to give me a French phrase that I didn’t know.
No matter, I am an INTERNATIONAL IMPROVISER! I’ll be able to play with whatever phrase I get, even if I don’t understand it!
“And let’s have a phrase for our American guest!”
Oh shit, here it comes!
And then a voice from the audience! A combination of a generous French audience member, along with the gods of luck, serendipity, and goodness (each of whom I honor on a regular basis):
“Let’s Go!”
Impossible! Not only did they give me a phrase in English, but they gave me a phrase in English that I actually know in French! Not only did I just sort of maybe know it in French, like most of the French I know, I actually, confidently knew the phrase in French, and showed them so as I repeated the phrase to the house!
“Allons-y!”
And the audience roared! We had them from that point on!
I found out from Nabla later (one of our Eux friends) that part of the positive reaction was to my “adorable” awful American accent in attempting to speak French.
Whatever. I’ll take adorable if it gets the audience on my side.

You’ve heard people say that if you attempt to speak French, that Parisians will have patience with you, no matter how bad your accent or vocabulary is. I take this anecdote as solid proof of that theory.

I also take this story as proof that if you can ‘hook’ the audience early, it’s easy to keep them involved in your whole piece, as long as you play with honesty and strength.
The show that followed was indeed filled with free-form craziness, and the audience loved it! We played in both French and English and even that was ok for my terrible French. The show was free-form enough that even when I didn’t understand the language well, I was able to survive with strong, physical scenework.
The show was great fun, another tribute to the open, fearless, trusting style of The Improfessinals.
And it took place in the Café de Paris, where I was told Edith Piaf once sang. So there’s that!