Attention is a precious commodity, and I love watching people giving each other their full attention
In improv, this happens all the time. It’s this quiet, generous act that keeps me coming back for more.
When people give each other their full attention, something shifts. There’s palpable sense of shared presence. In those moments, we’re free — free of distraction (no past or future), free of judgment (no self or other), free of time (just us, here and now).
These moments of generous presence are where improv is more than just a clever game. It’s spellbinding.
And I think the difference lies in the players’ ability to experience the moment from a place of generosity.
Two Scenes (Both Alike in Dignity)
Unlike scripted theatre, improv presents not one but TWO SCENES at once:
- The character scene — what we see on stage: the story, the situation, the emotional stakes.
- The human scene — the real-time collaboration between two people navigating the unknown together.
When it comes to generosity, it’s all about the human scene.
It doesn’t matter how outrageous, villainous, charming or absurd the characters are — it’s the humans behind them who make it work.
That takes a deep, supportive awareness of the other person’s needs, their offers, and their ability to improvise. It takes a big, trusting Yes, and… to whatever they bring.
When the players are in sync, we forget we’re watching people with no script and no plan. But if you look closely, you can still see the human element: the hesitations, the risk-taking, the gentle ‘follow me’ gestures and bold choices made in the moment.
To co-create like this in front of a group or a paying audience is a radical act of trust and generosity.
Attention Is What Matters Most
I’ve seen improv shows with fancy formats fall flat, and I’ve seen magic happen in a beginner’s workshop or a corporate training.
What makes the difference? Where people put their attention.
Simone Weil said, “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.”
Most of the time, we move through life in broadcast or interpret mode — rarely making real contact with another person. But in improv, we have to switch that off. We have to listen with our whole selves, using all our senses to get each other — both in the character scene and the human one.
That kind of attention makes space for understanding. It lets us explore how we connect and disconnect — through identity, energy, and story.
And to truly understand another person’s reality, even for a moment, might just be the greatest gift we can give.
Photo by Zachary Keimig on Unsplash