“YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL”

-Martin de Maat

When studying improv, or doing anything really, we should always keep the wonderful quotes of Martin de Maat in mind. A nurturing improv instructor who played counterpoint to Del Close’s more chaotic and unapologetic approach to improv comedy instruction, Mr. de Maat’s most famous quote is prominently positioned at the entrance of his old workplace, Second City: “YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL”.

Martin de Maat's famous quote.

In all honesty, I feel a little sheepish about touting the words of Mr. de Maat. I never had him as a teacher at Second City, where he served as the Artistic Director and as a beloved teacher in the 1980s. All I’ve ever done is read his quotes (over and over) and been bowled over by the alternating simple and complex wisdom he packed within them. 

Worse, I’m something of a curmudgeon as an improv teacher, the opposite of Mr. De Maat. I came up learning from curmudgeons like me, or at least one curmudgeon in particular who had a big impact. So it is perhaps natural that I note a lot, find fault a lot, and offer a lot of suggestions to the students I work with.

While I make no apologies for it, my approach can make you feel bad. It can beat you down on your way to building yourself back up. And honestly, I think that’s the best way for me to teach improv, but it isn’t the only way or even the best overall way. 

Just my way.

So I am writing this post to explore a few of Martin de Maat’s best quotes, in an effort to balance my curmudgeonly impact on the students at The Radical Agreement Project.

So, YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL, what does it mean? NOTE: I am going to be writing about this quote mostly within the context of improv comedy, but it applies to everything and anything you are trying to get better at.  

YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL calls for students to get optimistic, maybe even excited, about their capacity for improv. It says that when you improvise, it can and should be amazing to witness. It promises, tantalizingly, a much better, freer, version of yourself waiting for you to discover.

It promises that everyone can be an amazing improviser! Everyone can do it.

That’s a big statement, because many students often feel stricken by fear, especially when their teachers have high expectations, or when they are studying improv at a theater with amazing performers who can pull off shows that seem inexplicably awesome. 

Nonetheless, YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL reminds us of two things: 

1. You can be an amazing improviser, that ability lies dormant in every student.

2. You aren’t there yet. It is okay to have a bad show or bad class scene. That’s part of learning improv, on your way to reaching your potential.

Imagine an actor preparing to take on a very difficult classic play, with heavy themes, deeply emotional scenes and a need for intimately crafted characterization. They might be a little pessimistic about it, because they are worried it might not go well. But if they internalize Martin’s famous quote they will realize that taking on difficult material guarantees success.

If the production goes well, then they win because they’ve pulled off a neat feat and their audience and peers will be impressed. If it doesn’t go well, they still win because they have learned valuable lessons about what doesn’t work. Sure the audience might think their performance forgettable, but a bad production sharpens your artistry as long as you have the proper attitude throughout.

In fact, the only way taking on any artistic pursuit (or any pursuit at all) can ever be a failure is if you forget that YOU ARE PURE POTENTIAL and that your work should be judged not by whether others liked it, or deem it to be of a certain arbitrary quality, but rather by what it taught you; by how much it advanced you towards your full potential. 

And you always have room to grow more! You always have much more of your full potential to realize. Improvisers who internalize this message should find they are suddenly braver and that their approach to improv is more joyous, because they can’t fail!

There is nothing to fear in improv (or any pursuit) except submission to fear. Because when we submit to fear we hedge our bets. We play it safe, which is another way of saying we don’t take on the more difficult task in front of us, and so we learn less.

When we submit to fear in our pursuit of improv (or public speaking, or negotiation, or leadership, or on, and on, and on, and on) we deprive ourselves of a chance to advance towards our full potential. 

And should there be a balance? Yes, of course. When delivering a toast at your best friend’s wedding it probably isn’t the time to start experimenting with advanced mime skills.

But you get the point.

Now there are a series of related quotes that amplify this core message. Martin believed that many of his students were looking to him and other “experts” for permission before beginning to really cut loose. I’m kinda piecing this together from what I’ve read, but my sense is that Martin thought his students wouldn’t really try to do their best unless Martin was expecting them to and wanted them to. Otherwise who were they to really improvise with the same daring abandon they had seen great improvisers take on?

So Martin often would tell his students, “I am giving you permission to succeed.”

And this silly, simple permission would open his students up, empowering them to take risks, to share themselves onstage, to do what they wanted to do when they first thought to sign up for an improv class.

I’ve seen this next quote less, but Martin would sometimes expand on this idea:

“You have the right to follow your dreams. I'm giving you permission to follow your dreams.”

Imagine a teacher telling you that.

After all, what’s the point of doing anything if we aren’t ready to do what our soul cries out for us to reach for? Martin understood the answer to this question was very little point at all, and so he gave his students permission to follow their dreams when they improvised.

It may sound silly, but if you’re leading a team at work, then you should lead it as you dreamed you could. Giving a presentation? Same thing. Adjusting to impossible new conditions at work? Of course, you should adjust as you always dreamed you could. What advantage is there in doing anything less?

I want all of my students to feel they have this permission. If you are an improviser reading this, you should give yourself the same permission.

I also love this quote because individuality is embedded within it. My dreams won’t be like your dreams. Martin wanted every student to share their unique treasures in their work, and surely we all should want that from everyone we know.

Now there was an inversion of this quote that I think is just as important:

“You do not have the right to use this art form to feel inferior.”

How many students have taken improv classes (and paid a pretty penny to do so) only to slide down a path of self-recrimination? Martin wouldn’t allow it. You did not have permission to beat yourself up after scenes, just because your work wasn’t perfect. 

The work of an improviser is never perfect and it is never the best. There is always someone far, far better than you, just like there is always someone far, far worse. Faulting yourself for bad work forgets that the goal is not to hit a certain level of excellence, but instead to advance towards your full potential.

Always.

If you did a bad scene in which you made unfunny choices and failed to understand what your partner was going for, then that is great. Because you have learned what doesn’t work and you have nothing to feel inferior over. No one, not the funniest improviser on the planet, got there without failing first.

A final MArtin de Maat quote, with which to bring this blog post home:

“Each of us is unique, and if we don't respect that uniqueness, if we don't allow that which we are to surface, then the world doesn't have it.”

He wasn’t just giving you permission, he was adding expectation. He wanted you to know that he expected you to share the best parts of your artistry (of your work, of your contribution, call it what you will). He was counting on you.

And he wanted you! Not an imitation of someone else that everyone already revered. He wanted you to bring your strengths, your quirks and your idiosyncrasies to life onstage.

Did I say that last quote was the last quote? Well I lied, because I am going to include one more. He consciously acknowledged the power expectation bestows on those who we expect to excel by analyzing this dynamic within an improv ensemble:

“What happens in the (improv) ensemble work is that in a cooperative work, the power of communication in being with each other in acceptance and 'yes, and'-ing each other, is that you as an individual start to believe in yourself because you begin to see yourself in the others' eyes. Your ensemble, your group, your team, your committee, is the one that's believing in you and you pull it together to do it for them.”

You pull it together to do it for them. I’ll tell you, I can’t think of a better way to explain why improv is such a great tool for team building than this quote. Your team needs you to give your best and you dare not let them down.

That’s a far better lens through which to regard a daunting task than a fearful stance that prays not to fail. You aren’t stemming off the odor of failure when you embrace Mr. de Maat’s philosophy. Instead you are charging into success, not out of narcissism, but out out of brothel love of your teammates.

What could be more improv comedy than that?