Creation through Improvisation at a Renaissance Faire

This weekend I was reminded of the power of creativity that is unleashed through improvisational acting with others.

Each summer I perform at the Bristol Renaissance Faire, which re-creates the town of Bristol, England, from the 16th Century. I portray a comical town barrister named Nicolas Wright who is supposed to know the law but really is a charlatan who neglects his duties to dance and make merry.

The type of performing I do is known as street acting. I literally work the Bristol streets and interact with thousands of patrons who have paid $30 each to escape from the world and get immersed in another one that dates back to 1574. And this is what I did on opening weekend of the 2022 season on July 9-10.

Photo credit: Brian Schultz

Everything I do is improv, which means that every interaction with a patron consists of a fleeting moment of creativity. I am really more of a reactor than an actor. I have only seconds (often less than that) to read someone approaching me and figure out a fresh joke, a simple greeting, or even a song to share with them. The interaction depends on how I read each person’s vibe.?I read everything about a person, too: faces, clothing, whether someone is in a group or alone, and myriad other factors.

Photo credit: John Karpinsky

Photo credit: Brian Schultz

What makes this form of creativity especially interesting is that the audience creates with you. For instance, I might ask someone what kingdom they are from and who is watching their kingdom while they are away from home, and oftentimes patrons will respond with improvised answers on the spot. Some of the patrons are cosplayers, meaning they dress up as characters of their own, and they interact with you in character. On Sunday, I met a mermaid, who blessed me with a make-believe gemstone – the sort of interaction that only makes sense in a Renaissance Faire.

If I were to approach someone randomly on the streets of Chicago and began singing, joking, or talking with them, I would probably receive a blank look or worse in return. But at Bristol, the patrons who walk through the gates have self-selected to be willing participants of creativity with an actor dressed up like a 16th-Century barrister. They have suspended disbelief to be in a world of make believe.?

And we all want to have a good time. Sometimes, I bring with me a few small watermelons, and I start a watermelon toss game with other actors. Of course, we want patrons to join in, and they always do. If you saw a few people you did not know tossing a watermelon to each other on a sidewalk in your town, would you join in? In context of Bristol, though, a watermelon toss between two characters from another world is a cause for curiosity and an invitation to join in. This weekend was no different. People walking by us (including someone dressed head to toe as a plague doctor) wanted to join in the fun; soon, the ground was covered with the debris of a splattered melon. We were like children experiencing the innocent joy of summer play.?

Picture credit: Brian Schultz

Street performing also means literally using physical location to your advantage, and pushing your body to its limits. On Saturday morning, a throng of people clustered in front of the gate waiting to get in. I used height to my advantage by climbing to the top of the gate, where there is a space designed for performers to stand and greet the crowd. I started singing silly arias to the audience, and they answered each verse en masse (and, yes, I was shamelessly stealing from Freddie Mercury’s famous “Ay-Oh!” call-and-response bit with the audience at Live Aid).

Street performing also means I can never predict exactly what is going to happen with each encounter. A mom and dad trying to corral a group of little kids might welcome my hanging out with them, or they might want the exact opposite. Parties of people having a celebration for the day can lead to all kinds of unpredictable mischief. I have been physically picked up and carried around by a Viking. I have declared a man dressed in a banana suit guilty of flogging a dead whale. I have performed a mock marriage ceremony for two people who had know each other for all of 30 seconds. I have cavorted with witches and fairies. And all of that in one day.

Most importantly, co-creation is about uplifting each other.?I try to make everyone's day brighter at the Renaissance Faire. At the same time, I also feed off the love and energy of each person who walks through the gates. That’s the only way you can make it through a crazy, hot summer day of dancing, running, climbing, singing, and more.?

I spend most of my professional and personal life writing, which is by and large a solitary form of creativity that I love. Co-creation, though, works the mind and the body in a different way: the “yes, and” experience of building on someone’s idea and turning a moment into magic. I am grateful to the people I work with and most of all to the audience for the magic.