Lessons from the Masters, Volume 5: Noah Gregoropolous

In 2006, I attended an improv show at the old iO Chicago on Clark Street. I watched Noah Gregoropolous in a scene where he played a door. Yes, a door. I don’t remember why it was necessary for him to be there, but he was. And he stood there silently and waited patiently. At just the right moment, the door spoke: “Everything has its time. I used to be an oak tree.” The next week, Noah became my teacher. As the longtime guardian of iO’s Level 5B, every aspiring performer had to successfully navigate his class to have a shot at landing on a Harold team. He had a deep voice and the kind of deliberate manner that stood in stark contrast to the 20-and-30-somethings dripping with flop sweat in search of laughs. Looking back at the notes from one of our classes, I see Noah said simply, “Stop. This is terrible.” I’m sure it was. When Noah played, he rarely made the flashy choice, but his characters were wise, and he often elevated the scenes with impeccable support. He played waiters and customers waiting in line to flesh out a scene. He played with integrity and an incredible reference level. More often than not, Noah was the oldest person on the stage at iO. It never seemed to phase him. He was there to do the work. He was there to honor the choices of his scene partners. He was there to do the unglamorous support that younger players overlooked. He was often the anchor of a show, tethering scenes to reality before they could spin off into oblivion. I was always impressed by how Noah took his time. Many of us race in search of laughs, but Noah was smart enough to let the comedy come to him. You never saw him trying very hard, which is an exceptionally difficult thing to master. His brain was always working as he considered how to help the show. He would wait for his moment, and he would strike. You may not know Noah, but his impact was immeasurable on thousands of performers who graduated iO over the years. The comedy world owes him a debt. I share the following notes from Noah Gregoropolous’ 5B iO class: Be grounded and patient at the top of a Harold so at the end, you can rip through. Bringing back a scene creates a contract with the audience that they will see scenes more than once. Stepping past your fear is a gift to your scene partner. Open up to each other. We don’t want to see a lie on stage. Pay attention to any emotion spike, then deal with it. When at an impasse, create vulnerability to let us care. If your ship is sinking, don’t talk about it. Talk about each other. Boldness is a gift. When the audience laughs, it can signal a possibility. If you find yourself in a fight, lose it. Be careful of the automatic negative response to a strong initiation. That’s fear. There are no small choices. If a character doesn’t care, make them not care to the point of being active. (Regarding object work) Things aren’t always handy. They come from somewhere specific. You don’t always need to wrap things up. Sometimes we do that at our peril. Sometimes, patterns are more satisfying than plot. The audience can project plot on there. When you’re off-balance you have a tendency to attack. You need to be okay being off-balance. There’s a difference between a strong initiation and trying to control a scene. Never show contempt for your characters. You’ll get further satirically if you live in that person’s world. The unspoken joke is your friend. (Regarding scenic variety) If you hear a lot of brass, where are the piccolos? Patience gives you speed. Speed gives you stagnancy. Noah Gregoropolous died yesterday. He was an oak tree. Lessons from the Masters: Michael Gellman – TJ Jagodowski 1 – TJ Jagodowski 2 – Mick Napier – Mark Sutton