Marco Benedetti

I found improv by accident when I followed the wrong staircase at Concordia and walked into a rehearsal. Someone handed me an imaginary suitcase; twenty minutes later I had missed the class I was looking for and found the thing I wanted to do.

My living-room sessions remove everything intimidating about theatre. No stage, no bright lights, no clever people waiting for you to fail. We start small, listen hard, and by the end the couch has been a submarine, a witness stand and occasionally a very bad horse.

I cannot keep a straight face when someone says the word “moist.” It is professionally inconvenient.