When I started telling local buddies that I was bringing my favorite improv format back to Amsterdam, I heard from more than one friend—two, actually—that they felt anxious about it. That seemed like a good reason to jot down my thoughts about Maestro, and why it’s nothing to fear.

If you have no idea what Maestro even is, here’s a summary…

Maestro is a competitive improv format where 12 improvisers perform short-form improv scenes in small groups. The audience gives each scene a score, 1 through 5; at intermission, the lowest-scoring players are knocked out; and at the end of the night, the last person standing is crowned Maestro and awarded the coveted Canadian Five-Dollar Bill.¹

To admit my obvious bias, I’ve been playing Maestro for a long, long time. It’s been a weekly show at the Hideout Theatre in Austin since 1999, which I’d bet money² is the longest such streak in the world. That means it’s been a regular part of my life since I began taking improv classes in 2001. I grew up on this stuff.

Given that history, I wasn’t surprised to hear about the anxiety! There are a few reasons people shy away from this kind of show:

Continue reading Why I Love Maestro →

(Just visiting? That’s cool; see the bottom of this post for my favorite quotes from the show.)

This weekend, from Friday afternoon until early Sunday morning, a group of eight hardy improvisers at my spiritual home, the Hideout Theatre, performed 41 continuous hours of improv comedy, with miniscule breaks in between and help from a wide range of fellow improvisers who brought a new format each hour.

Check out the full schedule for an idea of how it went down. I’d heard from last year that the final hours were the ones to see, so I set my alarm for 5:00 this morning and turned up for the final three hours. That’s right, I wanted to see improvised 1960s Batman, and oh boy was it worth the early wakeup.

The final hour saw eight haggard individuals, miraculously upright, ready to do one final long-form narrative. And maybe the audience’s own sleeplessness helped somewhat, but oh, it was one of the finest hours of improv I’ve ever seen.
Continue reading Hour 41 of the 41-hour improv marathon →