Keep the thing about the stage being designed to protect you, so you donât have to protect yourself
Ko means be vulnerable
Maybe Ko means to put your whole self into a move. Whatâs the biggest, best version of this move? This moment? What would it mean to give it everything you have?
âPouch of my Heartâ was this, for me. Itâs not perfect, but it was the best I could do, and the audience saw that and rewarded me for it.
Full send
In Hunter X Hunter, Ko is a technique where you focus all of your Nen into a single part of your body in order to deliver a powerful blow. This is a dangerous techniqueâ it requires you to drop the Nen shield around your body, leaving you vulnerable to attack.
In improv, Ko is to commit yourself completely.
Many performers have an âimprov voice,â which is a heightened version of themself that always carries the subtext, âIsnât it crazy that I'm doing improv right now??â. Many performers have go-to characters that they feel comfortable playing, or that reliably get an audience response. Many performers tend towards tiredness, boredom, and apathy in their characters, and shy away from joy or love. All of these tendencies are defensive, and they all consume Yen. To commit yourself completely to your character, or your next line, or your next reaction, you must drop your defenses!
Perhaps in a kinder world it would be possible to do our best work without opening ourselves to criticism, or risking being âcringyâ. In this world we must bare our hearts. A willingness to try our best must also be a willingness to be vulnerable.
In improv, we use Yen to listen as well as speak. Thatâs why itâs so much more difficult to listen while youâre speaking. But it is possible to speak and listen at the same time, which is why some improvisers are able to do so with practice. It is very rarely an optimal use of Yen to commit all of your Yen to a single Hatsu, to focus on action to the exclusion of listening. But given that listening is nonnegotiable, we cannot bleed Yen to any other purpose, and it is of no use to us hardened around our bodies as armor.
The stage, the lights, all the devices of theater serve to cultivate an aura about the whole stage. In classes, a good teacher serves the same role. This aura both draws attention (which should, at this point, be tautological) and shields its occupants from the criticisms to which we are vulnerable in everyday life. Itâs not a business meeting. Itâs not a wedding ceremony. Itâs an improv show. The people out there want only to be entertained, and you want only to make them happy. As hard as it may be to believe sometimes, especially when the audienceâs eyes are on you, all this artifice was designed to give you the space to drop your guard and act without restraint.
Itâs hard to use Ko performing in a bar where the audience isnât there to see you. Itâs hard to use Ko when you donât trust your scene partners. Itâs up to you how far you want to push yourself in these situations. All I ask is, when you feel the Yen in the room billowing out and giving you the space to be honest and free onstage, the space to speak like yourself instead of your Iâm-doing-improv self, the space to play something youâve never played before instead of reaching into your bag of tricks, do so. Anything less would be a waste.