The Impro Supreme Letter
The only “news” are my latest thoughts
It’s a monthly letter written to people who are serious about improvisation — or who want to be.
I write it from inside my own practice: from the studio, from teaching, from the questions that don’t leave me alone. Sometimes it’s precise and technical. Sometimes it’s reflective. Sometimes it’s provoking. It’s not written to entertain or to comfort you.
It’s written to think — together — about what it actually takes to build improvisation as an attentive, physical practice.
What this is
The Impro Supreme Letter is a pause for thinking in a fast world of content — a way of taking your time back.
Each letter is a reflection on:
- training
- attention
- choice
- engagement
- and the often invisible work that makes creative freedom possible
It’s not instruction. It’s not a lesson.
It’s a piece of correspondence sent from one practitioner to another.
Over time, these letters accumulate. You can return to them, disagree with them, test some of the ideas in your own work — or just let them sharpen the way you look at what you do.
What this is NOT
This is not a motivational feed.
Not a productivity tool.
Not a place for hacks or shortcuts.
It’s not about:
– feeling good about your creativity
– consuming ideas
– keeping yourself entertained
– or being told that everything you do is already perfect
The Letter is written for people inside improvisation — not spectators.
Who this is for
The Impro Supreme Letter is for you if:
- you take improvisation seriously
- you practise, or feel the need to practise
- you’re not satisfied with repeating what you already know
- you’re willing to question your habits
- you want your thinking to lead to action
- you care about how you work, not just what you produce
It’s for people who sense that improvisation is not just:
– a skill
– a format
– or a pastime
…but a way of engaging with attention, choice, risk and meaning.
It’s for those who work alone and still want to stay in dialogue.
For those who train in groups and still want to think for themselves.
For those who don’t want to be entertained, but sharpened.
What you receive over time
The Impro Supreme Letter isn’t meant to be consumed and forgotten.
Over time, the letters accumulate into a discreet body of reflections you can return to — a set of working points you can test against your own practice.
Some ideas will stay with you.
Some will irritate you.
Some will only make sense months later, in the middle of a rehearsal, a class or a performance.
The utility of the Letter is not immediate — it’s cumulative.
The rhythm
The Impro Supreme Letter arrives about once a month.
Which is the rhythm at which something real tends to take shape: after a period of practice, observation, thought and testing.
There is no fixed launch date. The Letter will begin in early 2026.
The Letter begins when there are enough people to actually write to — not as a list, but as a correspondence.