Another key principle in Action Theater is the notion of “responding.” Once we are present and notice all the interesting details going on in and around us, it is time to respond to them, to move from noticing to doing. The whole improvisation is a constant oscillation between noticing and responding. With a lot of practice, the amplitudes between the two get so fine that both are practically happening at the same time.
Responding can have many forms. In Action Theater, we differentiate between three main types of responding: developing, transforming, and shifting. Developing means exploring the thing we are responding to—repeating, varying, or deconstructing it—so that it becomes clearer, sharper, and richer, the way the image on a photo takes shape in the development process. Transforming refers to slowly transitioning from one thing to another by gradually changing the quality of one or more aspects at a time. Shifting means to completely change every aspect of the thing we respond to and to contrast it with something quite different. We practice the different types of responses in small, formal exercises at first (using simple movement, sound, or language scores) and extend the reach and complexity to include whole story lines.
Eva-Lotta Lamm • Visual Improvisation
There are various ways to practice responding in a visual sense. On a very basic formal level, it starts by exploring simple and combined shapes. The page fills as one responds to each previous shape by either developing, transforming, or shifting. Playing with a shifting focus between different aspects like shape, size, spacing, orientation, line quality, proportion, etc. in the response helps to sharpen the awareness and to broaden the range of expression.
I also like using random inputs3 as a starting point. I use all kinds of stains—placing used tea bags or dripping coffee cups on paper, ink blotches, fingerprints, wild scribbles, scraps of paper, or some of my own random warm-up doodles. Then it’s about looking at the random shape at hand and asking what does it look like, what are its qualities. It’s a bit like watching clouds—imagining what this shape could be, what I could add to make it into something else, such as an object, an animal, a person, or a little story.
I try not to go for the “obvious” first idea I have, instead going down a stranger, more adventurous route. Adding a few first strokes, looking again, and responding to the changed shape; adding some more until slowly, something recognizable emerges, an image takes shape, a little story reveals itself. I like having to bend my mind around the shape, to try and wrap my imagination around its edges and to keep noticing and responding to its changing form. It’s challenging and playful at the same time.
The most valuable outcome of this kind of practice is that I learn to stay open and responsive while I am working. In my sketchnoting, this helps me to develop structure and balance visual hierarchy in my pieces as they develop. It also allows for visual metaphors and patterns to arise and transform while I am working. An image can change halfway through sketching, because the shapes remind me of something and give rise to a new image. Staying open to changing course at any point, to letting the work be influenced by the process, is something I enjoy a lot. It has been a source of many beautiful discoveries.
Random scribbles from ink stains from bleeding markers
Eva-Lotta Lamm • Visual Improvisation
The pleasure of getting in and out of trouble
Developing work in real-time and responding to new and sometimes unexpected content on the fly doesn’t come without difficulties, though. It means giving up control over the final piece: As I don’t know beforehand what is coming, I can’t plan it all out. I can’t choose a perfect structure for the material. I can’t develop visual metaphors for all of the key points in the talk in advance. When I work in real-time, I leave behind the safety net of carefully planning things out and iterating through several versions to get to the final solution. I have to rely on the skills I have built so far, and I have to accept that I will make mistakes.
Sometimes people come up to me to ask how my sketchnotes look so perfect and how I manage not to make any mistakes. Well, it’s not true that I don’t make mistakes. I make a lot of them. I misspell words, I run out of space, I mess up sketches. Luckily, a lot of my mistakes hide very well in the visually busy notes, so that nobody other than me ever sees them as mistakes. But also, over time, I got quite good at using my “mistakes” as “happy accidents” and responding to them in such a way that they end up looking like deliberate choices.
Random scribbles from tea stains
I like to think of it as sketching myself into trouble and out of it again. Instead of being afraid of doing something wrong, I try to embrace everything that comes up as a chance to experiment and to play. It feels very liberating that I can get myself out of a sticky situation just by noticing, responding, and not capitulating.
People are difficult. Especially if they hold things. I get that wrong sometimes.
No need for an eraser. If the first line is wrong, just put another line over it to make it right.
Eva-Lotta Lamm • Visual Improvisation
I sometimes even step into trouble deliberately. This can mean using different materials from the ones I am used to—working in black and white instead of color, using very fat markers instead of the fine liners I usually gravitate towards, or changing the size of my format dramatically by sketching on a whole wall or a little notepad. It can also mean leaving my comfort zone in terms of sketching things I am not quite sure how to sketch. Or trying out new, maybe wacky visual metaphors instead of the tried-and-trusted, generic stereotypes that are used over and over again. It can be about injecting my own point of view or sense of humor at the risk of other people not agreeing or not getting it.
Taking a risk is taking a chance at the same time. Taking a chance to surprise myself, to discover a new way of doing things, and to grow my skill set.
Sketching myself out of trouble. If I can’t get the sketches to look realistic because I messed it up, I sometimes make them deliberately non-realistic or surreal. They take on a different dynamic and start working again because it is clear that they don’t have to work in the real world.
Sometimes, perspective needs to be bent to fit the available space (bed) or to make sure there is enough space for the person I already sketched before (pedestal).
My confidence in my ability to enjoy the resulting “trouble” has developed through practice. Many hours of sharpening awareness, of playfully responding to material in various ways in a safe environment, has continually built a robust basis for my work out in the wild. Paired with the playful non-judging approach of improvisation, it is growing my confidence to just throw myself into doing, to dare to start without having a firm plan, and to trust my skills and the process to create an interesting piece of work. It empowers me to take bold choices in my work. Some of them work out as I imagined, some of them need visual troubleshooting, and some of them just teach me to accept my own mistakes. But I am always up for the challenge.
I am quite bad at sketching portraits. Sometimes they work out, but sometimes they go so horribly wrong that I feel the need to apologize in the notes.
If something goes wrong, it means that there is a chance to explore how to do it better.
Repetition is the best way to learn and to practice. I look at what is wrong in the current
version, I try to change it in the next. Noticing and responding. Often over and over again.
Eva-Lotta Lamm • Visual Improvisation
Calm seas don’t make skillful sailors after all!
Mistakes as happy accidents: When a lack of spacing suddenly means an island in the sea can double up as a duvet or musical notes merge into a hairstyle
EVA-LOTTA LAMM is a user experience designer, illustrator and sketchnoter. She grew up in Germany and worked in Paris and London for a f
ew years before packing up her backpack to go travelling the world and sketching her journey for 15 months. She has over 12 years of experience working on digital products as an in-house designer for Google, Skype, and Yahoo! as well as freelancing and consulting for various agencies and her own clients.
Besides her daytime mission of making the web a more understandable, usable, and delightful place, she regularly takes sketchnotes at conferences and has self-published her notes in several books.
Eva-Lotta also teaches sketching and is interested in exploring the area of Visual Improvisation – looking at the parallels between sketching and improvisation to explore how some of the principles from her regular theater improvisation practice can be used to inspire visual work.
Eva-Lotta’s books and work can be found at www.sketchnotesbook.com and you can follow her on twitter, flickr, or instagram under the name @evalottchen.
References
1. Action Theater was developed by former dancer Ruth Zaporah. More information on her website: www.actiontheater.com
2. Many artists have used random inputs as starting points. Some beautiful examples are Marion Deuchars’ Fingerprint Art (vimeo.com/49681168), Daily Monsters made from ink stains by Stefan G. Bucher (www.dailymonster.com/344_loves_you/the-daily-monsterpapers), Coffeemonsters by Stefan Kuhnigk (thecoffeemonsters.com), tea drawings by Austin Kleon (austinkleon.com/2009/11/06/tea-drawings), and Dave Gray (communicationnation.blogspot.de/2006/01/visual-thinking-practice-randomness.html).
Solo-Practitioner Partnerships
A Conversation between Lisa Arora and Robert Mittman
We, Lisa and Robert, are seasoned solo practitioners who have been collaborating internationally since 2008. We started out as strangers referred to one another, and along the way became solo-practitioner partners, world adventurers, and dear friends. We’ve worked together at countless meetings, always with Robert as Lead Facilitator and Lisa as Graphic Recorder. When clients work with us, they experience a seamless team of experts. At the very core of our union as partners is a shared passion for using our skills for positive change in the world, as well as having fun while doing excellent work. We’d like to share our conversation with you about the ways in which we unite our skills to serve clients.
Partnership
Lisa: How can we help shift others (lead facilitators and potential clients) we might work with from seeing graphic recording as a commodity, to seeing the graphic recorder as a true partner?
Robert: This question pre-supposes that graphic recording is being perceived as a commodity. In some sense, those who are asking the question are holding a piece of the problem. I’ve been working with graphic recorders in my consulting and facilitation practice for more than 25 years and I have never viewed graphic recording as a commodity.
Any graphic recorder partner I work with must have the basic entry-level skills (being reliable, arriving early, handling logistics, preparation, and paper smoothly, making the charts beautiful, etc.). But then there’s the quality of the listening. This is the precious part that is not a commodity and is dependent on the individual. The four people I work with know what needs to make it onto the page. They understand the change objectives of the meeting and they use that as a strategic filter for the content. They place the information on the page exactly as I would do myself, so that when I turn around to engage the group with the chart,
I can easily make sense of it. They can handle technical, complex discussion and maintain their listening presence at rapid paces, sometimes for up to eight hours.
Clients call me up occasionally and ask, “Hey, do you know any graphic recorders who live in, for example, Omaha?” And I will never advise choosing a graphic recorder on the basis of geographical location.
L: I agree. People looking to partner with a graphic recorder need to educate themselves as consumers because graphic recorders are not interchangeable parts. Their talent, knowledge base, experience level, listening skills, meeting design skills, client relationship skills, and many other things are far more important than choosing a graphic recorder based on geography.
I don’t think of what I do as a commodity. I show up in every stage of the work process as more than “just a graphic recorder,” and so I rarely run into my work being perceived as a commodity. When participants experience the graphics as a helpful aid for structuring a conversation, synthesizing, prioritizing, and making further meaning, they see the value.
Lisa Arora and Robert Mittman • Solo-Practitioner Partnerships
I’ve also focused on developing a full spectrum of skills beyond graphic recording. I understand organizational development, I have broad business knowledge, and I’ve studied strategy development. I am a skilled lead facilitator in my own right. I know how to form strong relationships with my clients. And then there’s me… who I am. I always show up with elite professionalism. I bring my personality, my smarts, my heart, my style, my humor, good questions, good insights, a service ethic, and a full on commitment to making sure the client gets what they need and more.
R: You are often part of the meeting design calls with clients. Sometimes I contact you for design suggestions for meetings you’re not even going to be at. With you as a process design partner, I can validate ideas, we can brainstorm possibilities together, and—since you’re in so many meetings—sometimes you know more about facilitation processes than I do. It helps that you focus on first understanding the meeting objectives, then make visual process suggestions that support those objectives.
L: Over time, we’ve built trust in each other’s expertise. I’ve learned about facilitation by watching you, too. And, along the way, you’ve always been open to my suggestions about other ways to allow participants chances to interact with, review, and reflect upon the charts.
And, Robert, I think the way you talk to your clients quickly establishes us as experts on many levels. You do a great job of insisting on the conditions we need for people to experience graphic recording as a process tool and a product.
I also consider you to be a fairly unusual facilitator partner because the visual approach is so deeply rooted in your facilitation philosophy. It’s simply the way you assume you will be working and so you insist on it (with relatively few exceptions). Many facilitators who are curious about beginning to work with a graphic recorder would ask how you pitch your way of working to clients, and how you justify the extra cost. How do you?
R: When I talk to a client, one of three things happens:
The client trusts my recommendation that graphic recording is effective and needed and doesn’t even ask much about it. These are usually clients that are referred to me, or have seen me in other meetings, so trust begins high.
The client has experienced graphic recording before and they love it, so they go for it.
The client has experienced graphic recording before and they didn’t love it.
In any case, once I explain the value of graphic recording and our partnership approach, very rarely do clients object. I tell clients that it engages the visual thinkers in the room. They find it stimulating and satisfying. And more importantly, I explain that the way we will collaborate in the meeting is deeply integrated into the process so the graphics become a way of making the conversations more focused, disciplined and efficient. Some exercises/processes absolutely require the graphics. I will facilitate the odd meeting without a graphic recorder, but it’s not my preference.
L: And what about cost?
R: I price by job, not by time. I don’t have a day rate. I use value-based pricing instead. Graphic recording is part of the value proposition, so it’s not a focus of the conversation.
Occasionally a client might ask, “If we didn’t have the graphic recording, how much would we save?” If budget is a real issue, I am so committed to the success of the meeting that I will offer to lo
wer my own fee (within reason) to bring in the graphic recording.
Selecting a graphic recorder partner
L: Robert, you’ve worked with many graphic recorders over the years. Can you go deeper into what you look for in choosing a partner? What skills and attributes can new practitioners aspire to develop?
R: I am looking for the “Vulcan Mind Meld.” I remember having this experience for the first time when I was working with Deirdre Crowley. I was leading. She was following. Our every move was just naturally synchronized. It’s like a chemistry that’s either there or not.
L: I know what this feels like from a graphic recorder’s point of view, too. I think it has a lot to do with having similar thinking styles, high degrees of perception, and similar levels of consciousness. In my experience, it’s a luxury when that chemistry is naturally there. In other partnerships, it can be developed intentionally between the facilitator and graphic recorder over time. It helps to work together often.
Lisa Arora and Robert Mittman • Solo-Practitioner Partnerships
R: I’ve been amazed many times at how some graphic recorders don’t have even the basics down. I’ve seen people show up without their own copy of the agenda. I’ve had graphic recorders seriously disrupt a meeting by making excessive noise while attempting to hang paper. I’ve had awkward moments where I’ve had to stall and buy time in a meeting while the graphic recorder gets ready.
Drawn Together Through Visual Practice Page 5
