London, 6th of October 2026

👋 Greetings, dear readers.

Hope you had a lovely week. I’m back from enjoying Improv Fest Ireland and, once again, I reiterate my love for Dublin and its improv community. Coming off an illness, this year I decided to take it easy, facing the dilemma between taking care of myself and doing workshops or meeting new people. In the end, I chose my physical and mental well-being, making my presence in this iteration of the festival my most antisocial ever.

I saw most of the shows, and I must say that I’m at a stage in my personal and professional life that keeps me from enjoying regular improv. I have nothing against comedy improv (I do it myself every now and then), but you have to be a very good performer (and I do mean performer, not improviser) to make a compelling while funny show. Otherwise, the matrix code of playing pretend keeps showering in front of my retinas, and I’m only capable of seeing a parade of improv faces. Kudos to the Greek improv group, Coffee and Cigarettes Collective, for their different and compelling offer, that was what improv festivals should be about.

Festival director Neil Curran gave me the chance to coach one of the mixer teams, knowing my approach, and I had a great experience doing it. I worked with six kind improvisers, aiming for a show oriented toward the human side of the characters while tapping into their personal experiences and biases. We dived into a bit of Boal’s image theatre before working on empathy and organic editing. While I think the group, during the show, let themselves lean into the energy of an audience hungry for fun, things remained balanced, and I could definitely see more grounded work, offering absolute pearls of human connection that made me feel proud.

Of course, I did improv myself as well. Keeping the tradition initiated by Ann “Crim” Crimmins, fellow Improv Utopia campers and friends shared staged under her direction to present Strange New Scenes. It’s always a delight to play with people I hold very dear, and Crim is a legend.

Being in the role of coach at this festival meant that I also had a spot in an emergency teacher show, put together to fill a gap from an act that had to drop out. Like David Bowie sang, I’m afraid of Americans, especially their fast-paced and comedy-oriented improv, so I found myself in a show with them. Knowing myself as an autistic person has helped me a lot in knowing myself as an improviser, and I stated my boundaries with my fellow performers beforehand and they were very supportive (as any good improviser should be). While doing the show, though, I felt like I'd been thrown inside a blender, but I endured and just let myself be a geek in it. I think it turned out OK.

The main reason for attending the festival, however, was to finally showcase C*NTS, a piece that Rosalind (Roz) Grégoire and I had been developing for a while. I may pretentiously claim that C*NTS isn't improv, but rather an unscripted play about two humans navigating a messed-up dystopian world. It was a show with tangible props and zero mimed object work. Roz is a fantastic artist and set designer, and that made a massive difference.

One of the perks of an improv festival is being able to summon a musician to accompany a set, and we did just that. Boston-based musical improviser Mike Descoteaux stepped in, dressing our peculiar universe with his stellar piano playing. We were thrilled with how the show was received, which reaffirmed just how vital it is to have diverse styles of improv at an international festival. I feel very fortunate to have collaborated with Roz, we went through hours of silly and occasionally aimless improv to reach that final form. We were critical enough in rehearsals to be honest about what was working and what wasn't. Striking the right balance of positivity against the dystopian setting was the hardest part. In Dublin at least, we got there.

I encourage you all to work harder on your shows. Please, make a difference in festivals. I’m not speaking about improv alone, I’m speaking about presentation and tone. Improv shouldn’t be a thing where you just show up. Make everyone know that you care about the project you are offering.

🫶 Stay hydrated, love to you all.

🎭 The Theatre bit

Taking things easy in Dublin gave me time to read a play. I had stumbled upon David Hare’s monologue Via Dolorosa referenced in a playwriting book, so I purchased a copy during a visit to the National Theatre bookshop. To be honest, I was hesitant about it because of the theme, and having a cover with multiple Israeli flags didn’t help. I knew that if I chose to read it, I would get upset.

Its nature makes it feel like an essay more than a play; the lack of stage directions helps make it feel this way. I’m curious, though, about what its original staging was like, and it makes you think about the possibilities of it.

The play, written in 1998, is compelling, informative, and factual. Hare narrates his experience visiting Israel and the West Bank, and his conversations with many Israelis and Palestinians. I tried to read reactions about it beforehand and most of them agreed on its aura of neutrality. Hare is not an activist indeed, but reading it felt like watching Louis Theroux’s documentary about the settlers where he just lets them speak and lets the audience form their own opinion.

One of the most interesting testimonies in the play is his conversation with Israeli theatre director Eran Baniel and his experience directing an Israeli-Palestinian version of Romeo and Juliet. Baniel, being a secular Jew, mentions the experience was eye-opening, especially about the Palestinian sentiment. The director also mentions how pointless the project was because the Israeli government didn’t allow Palestinians to cross the checkpoints to see the play.

Almost 30 years later, this play is sadly very contemporary. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to see it live, but I’m happy to have it on my bookshelf.

🎙️ The podcast bit

Playback Theatre musicians are mistaken for a background element, but the right offer can change everything on stage. In the latest episode of Playing Back an Improvised Podcast I have a conversation with Steve Nash where we explore how to make music, sound, and song an essential part of the story, not just for underscoring. From the first UK playback company in York to international trainings, Steve brings decades of experience as a performer, conductor, musician, and accredited trainer. Join us in this exploration of the role with a dessert shape as an informal chat about science fiction.

It’s searchable on your favourite streaming platform, but you can also find links to all of them on the Playing Back an Improvised Life hub site.

📆 What is coming up

• 🇬🇧 9th of October - Acaprov at Shoreditch Balls (London, UK). It’ll be spooky season! Will our show be? Come and check out. Get your tickets. 🎵

• 🇬🇧 13th of November - Acaprov at Shoreditch Balls (London, UK). With Halloween left behind, but on a Friday the 13th, the monthly Acaprov musical will be ready to serve thrills. Secure your tickets. 🎼

• 🇬🇧 20, 21, 22, 28 and 29th of November - Playback Theatre Core Training (London, UK). Are you finally considering getting into Playback Theatre? Join True Heart Theatre’s Level 1 core training to learn the basics of Playback and put them to the test with a showcase! Info and registration here.

📚 🎮 🎥 📺 The geeky dessert

👻 Spooky Season Edition 👻

October marks the beginning of the spooky season and its countdown to Halloween. For me, it's just another Tuesday. Nevertheless, I’d like to offer horror recommendations over the coming weeks.

This time I’m going to recommend a very simple game in the anomaly detection genre. The Cabin Factory, developed by the Tokyo-based independent studio International Cat Studios, is a psychological horror experience that puts you in the shoes of a cabin inspector. The cabins, apparently identical, appear on the conveyor belt of a factory, and it will be your duty to enter each of them to determine if something is odd.

This game genuinely scared me at moments. The setting and the eeriness really feed into that psychological fear. Even the cabins that are not haunted feel creepy, and the ones that are indeed haunted can get very scary. It takes courage for me to jump back in after a stressful experience.

If you are looking for a game that keeps you on your toes and you enjoy being scared, this will not disappoint you. It’s available on most platforms.