It was a typical Saturday afternoon at Cleveland's anime convention, Ohayocon 2002. Cosplay setup was happening; the cel painting workshop was in full swing; the video rooms, game rooms and DDR room were all crowded and lively places.

But past these rooms, at the end of a crowded hallway was something listed on the convention schedule simply as "Improv Workshop." Expecting some dry dictation on the basics of acting, I planned on heading down for a moment to scope it out and move on to something "fun."

Outside the workshop room, I heard other con-goers discussing the same thing and coming to similar conclusions.

"What's an Improv Workshop?"

"I don't know. Let's just check it out and go watch some anime."

I followed them into the room and spotted my new friend Angora Deb (voice actress, Maze, Agent Aika) heading up the workshop. Taking my seat in the back, I still didn't know what this workshop was about, but I knew if Deb was involved, it wouldn't be what I expected."

Deb briefly explained what improv was [im-prov´i-sa´tion: invention, composition or recitation without preparation] and called on all of the 15 or 20 attendees to stand in a circle. She then explained the concept of picking up on a cue and "physicalizing" a role (taking a physical stand or pose and using your body to give clues to your improv partner as to what and/or who you are).

Deb then began an exercise. One student would get in the center of the circle and strike a random pose. The next person in the circle would guess what the person was doing and make a comment to them that both explained whom the poser was and what he or she was doing.

The person in the center would then reply "in character" to their partner's comment and, in the doing, reveal his "identity." Then, after the laughing, both would return to their place in the circle and the next person would strike the pose and so on.

Though simple and silly in premise, by the second or third pose the entire group had caught on and was generating genuinely funny material - entirely on the fly, no more than a second to reply.

One student entered the circle and struck the standard issue "muscle-man" pose. The next person then unexpectedly asked, "Grandpa! Aren't those milk cans heavy?"

Without missing a beat he replied, "Yes! Milk does a body good!" in a stereotypical old-man voice.

Though it may have seemed all in fun, Deb had managed to thread some very core concepts of improv into the exercise by offering small snippets of advice. "Be specific about who the person is and what they're doing . . . The more specific the better," she would prod. "Accept that whatever your partner says is true. Dare to be average. Say what's most obvious."

Through her supportive, almost subliminal style, Deb led the class to understand that it was better to simply tell the poser who he was and that it should make some kind of sense - even if in an unexpected way.

Throughout the process, Deb's mild manner and friendly smile kept the whole group feeling positive and at ease. After the first five minutes not a single person felt shy about doing some rather strange things in front of perfect strangers. Her easy-going attitude had set the mood for the rest of the class, and her own confidence became theirs.