Improv theater instead of math: Lateral thinking is encouraged at the Technical University of Munich – Munich

Klaus Diepold’s favorite exercise goes like this: someone says something, another responds and begins his sentence with: “Yes, exactly”, not with “Yes, but”. The word “exactly” makes all the difference. “This form of conversation is an invitation to play and not to contradict,” says Diepold. Our practiced reaction must be contradicted, “with the result that we lose access to collective creativity and joy”.

Karin Krug’s favorite exercise is called “Tenant, House, Earthquake”: Three people from a larger group have to get together as quickly as possible. One stands in the middle, the others form a roof over his head with their arms. The total number of participants must not be divisible by three, so that there is always someone left. At his command, new alliances of three form again.

“I love this game because it teaches you a lot about life,” says Krug. “You always have a choice: stay, go or find a new group.” If you play it longer, you learn that it’s not so bad to be outside, because then you can change something.

The goal is to change ingrained behaviors, break with the norm and ultimately put ideas into practice. To this end, Diepold Krug regularly invites “Computer & Creativity” to his university seminars. Professionally, the two come from very different worlds.

Klaus Diepold, 60, is a professor in the Faculty of Electrical Engineering and Information Technology at the Technical University of Munich (TUM). He heads the chair for data processing, conducts research in the field of machine learning and supports students with an entrepreneurial spirit in founding start-ups. Diepold was Vice President for three years and was responsible for diversity and talent management. He studied at the TUM himself and received his doctorate there in 1992. Exactly that year, Karin Krug, 51, founded the Munich Fastfood Theater with other actors, which she runs today. She studied theater at the Ludwig-Maximilians-University and learned acting with private tutors. Instead of going to film and television, she veered towards improv theater. At Fastfood she practices improvisation and role changes at a high level. She has been working as a coach and trainer for years.

“Improv theater always takes place at eye level, it’s not hierarchical.”

“By the end of the course, the students have developed a basic understanding of various concepts of creativity,” promises the description of the seminar on the faculty website. This refers to the software and hardware of computers and also to the further development of their personality. This is where Karin Krug comes into play, a professional in spontaneity who uses theater methods to bring people together. “Improv theater always takes place at eye level, it’s not hierarchical,” she explains in a conversation on the phone. “We practice the change of perspective.” Improv theater means constantly dealing with the unknown and possibly failing at the same time.

“A course like this increases discipline.”

Allow a different way of thinking? “Very important,” replies Krug. For her, this is one of the pain points of the pandemic, that lateral thinking has fallen into disrepute. What she appreciates about Diepold is that he is so interested in his students. When the university was in lockdown they ran the course online. Missing the hours was out of the question for him.

This winter semester, the students are back at the university. The improv lessons do not take place virtually. Everyone has been vaccinated, says Diepold when they enter the classroom in the back building on Arcisstraße with him one afternoon. The tables have been pushed against the walls, the chairs are in a circle, these are the few indications that something else is taking place here than frontal teaching. At first there is no sign of theatrical atmosphere and creativity. The students stand in groups and chatter. Stefan Röhrl, doctoral student and research associate at Diepold, says a remarkable sentence when asked how he finds this: “A course like this increases discipline.”

Open detailed view

It starts on time. 13 chairs are occupied, some are still empty. Karin Krug, the only one wearing a dress, looks around and greets the students. What Röhrl means becomes clear when the door opens and a fellow student tries to sneak into an empty seat unnoticed. He could have greeted or apologized, but he doesn’t. His complexion changes drastically when Krug addresses him. The fact that it is important to him to be here and that he cares about being late can now be seen from the color of his skin, explains Krug. You don’t have to be ashamed if you blush, it’s a completely natural reflex with emotions.

Body language is one of Krug’s tools, and she wants to make students aware of it. They should learn to perceive themselves better and to interpret reactions or emotions, to regard the body as a source of information. “I don’t like being late,” says Diepold, somewhat sharply. “We abolished cum tempore in the last century.” He shows emotion in that moment. Conventions mean something to him, everyone should have understood that by now.

“What did you take with you from last time?” Krug asks the students. “That it is important to accept situations intuitively in order to be able to make decisions more quickly,” says a student in a black hoody quickly. He is one of the laggards and seems to want to improve the situation for himself with his zeal. Another adds: “We should pay attention to nuances.” And a young man with longer hair admits: “Now I look a lot more at what’s happening around me.” Karin Krug nods her head. She seems satisfied with these answers.

Then everyone should stand up. Krug turns towards a student and claps his hands. He picks up the impulse and claps someone else. It goes back and forth like this. “Faster,” drives Krug, stamping his foot when it’s her turn again. “Put more energy in!” The clapping sounds whistled through the air and grew louder. This makes your hands warm and the students more relaxed. “If you have the feeling that too little is happening, then you should get more involved,” says the actress. The insight from this exercise: You have to make an effort to achieve something.

On this afternoon, the students get many different tasks. And they hear that acting professionals and professors also have stage fright. What can be done about it? Take a deep breath and have a talisman with you. “I always have something with me that reminds me that there is life outside of the situation,” says Krug.

The students should use dots to create their own stage spaces on the floor and pantomime activities. A student puts four dots next to each other in such a way that her feet just fit on them. Another moves his points far apart. “Lots of space for the stage pig,” says Krug, laughs and spreads her arms wide. She has learned to play on big and small stages. She says to the course participants: “You can see how beautifully colorful the world is when you give others their space.”

Diepold received an award in 2021 for its commitment

Goal-oriented, often not so used to writing and language, sometimes a bit nerdy, with a slightly autistic streak, this is how Klaus Diepold describes the young people he deals with on a daily basis. He works with Karin Krug because he wants to help them improve their communication skills. “It’s often not so good for engineering students,” he says. He wants them to practice teamwork and be aware of what they can bring to the table.

Klaus Diepold is an extraordinarily committed and approachable professor who is willing to break new ground, no matter what he does. Word has gotten around among the students – and even up to the top of the university. In the summer of 2021 he was named “TUM Start-up Mentor of Excellence”. The award is endowed with 5000 euros, money that he should use for his work. In a film accompanying the award ceremony, President Thomas Hofmann emphasizes Diepold’s “heart and soul”, “his tireless personal commitment” and his “sensitivity”.