Friday 25 February 2011

Introducing The Audience

Interior of Covent Garden Theater, London
ca. 1808
Thomas Rowlandson (1756-1827 British)





Mud Gathered From A Scraper  -  Part 2 in an occasional series.

Part 1 was an introduction to orchestral Musicians


How many members of an audience realise that whilst they are looking at and commenting on an orchestra, the players are equally looking at them?  -  and how many people sitting in the front row of the stalls realise just how unintelligent and depressing they appear to those on the platform, or in the pit?

If members of the public are dressed informally, they are held to look scruffy, and players resent wearing formal clothes for them. If the audience is immaculate in evening dress, the players blame it for maintaining the convention that makes dinner jackets compulsory.  It is the view of the audience a player has from the impersonal elevation of the platform, before the houselights go down, which determines his opinion that all audiences can be divided into ten categories, regardless of the time, place and programme.

The first group, to which of course all readers of this blog belong, is of genuine music-lovers, who listen to the performance, and do their best to understand the music. They do not necessarily sit in the best seats, and may know little about the intricacies of first movement form, but they are the core of the audience, and the only people to whom musicians are always glad to play, however few in number they may be. There is also a type of listener who imagines that he belongs in the first group. He will exchange knowing remarks about the orchestra with his neighbours, and when he recognises a melody, will hum it to himself, in another key. Many members of amateur orchestras belong to this group.

Another kind of concert-goer tries to give an impression of being musical by studying the score during the performance. Should he not possess a score, or should he become hopelessly lost, he will shut his eyes, assume an expression of concentrated ecstasy and sway slightly, in time with the music. A fourth category is composed largely of old ladies, who appear to be enjoying a concert intelligently, and who will say, in conversation with a performer, how they love good classical music, like "In a Monastery Garden".

Soloists are often engaged for concerts on the strength of their following.  The soloist's fans do not bother to hide their boredom during the works preceding the concerto or aria; they are sullen and fidgety and usually leave when their idol has taken his or her last bow. The only point in their favour, from the musicians point of view, is that they make the concert a financial success.

Some people buy season tickets for a series of concerts; thus they can hear six programmes for the price of five. They will attend each programme in order to get their money's worth and can easily be recognised by their air of determined enjoyment, which is similar to that seen at a holiday camp during wet weather.

Smaller sections of audiences may consist of young lovers who consider the surroundings more conducive to successful courting than the cinema. Then there are school parties, who pay reduced rates; pupils regard the occasion as an outing of much the same sort as a conducted tour of the local gas-works. Parents occasionally bring their families to concerts, hoping to 'do them good'. When the youngest member starts whimpering during the slow movement, they leave their seats in the middle of the row, red-faced, kicking as many shins as they find on their way out.

And finally, there is unpunctuality, which is a common failing among all sections of an audience. Although concerts rarely start at the advertised time there is still a core of determined late-comers delaying the performance to the annoyance of players and conductor.

In spite of the foregoing, players need their audience, so please come and listen;  they also need to pay the rent.

23 comments:

  1. smiles. great post and a metaphor as well...yes i think i may sit and listen for a while..

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  2. Friko, I love your take on the world. I am not much of a concert goer, and when I do go, I had NEVER thought of my place in the event as being other than an appreciative audience.

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  3. mmh, sehr interessant, ich hatte mir auch schon einige Gruppen ausgedacht, doch soviele aber doch nicht...aber ich kann mich zu keiner Gruppe wirklich hinzuzählen. Ich denke schon, dass ich die Musik wirklich liebe, aber wenn meine liebste Musikerin nach der Pause nicht mehr gespielt hat, bin ich meistens nicht mehr in den Konzertsaal zurückgekehrt und ich denke, es war, weil ich diese unendlich grosse Freude nicht stören wollte, wenn ich sie gehört hatte. Es hatte nichts mit Desinteresse oder Respektlosigkeit gegenüber dem Orchester zu tun. Ich verlasse den Saal auch (in der Pause!), wenn mir die Musik nicht gefällt.
    Ein interessantes Post!

    Dir einen ganz schönen Abend!

    Renée

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  4. Ah, lest we be tempted toward romantic visions of these things, you put our feet back squarely on the ground! There is one group I encountered once again at a concert this Tuesday that I offer up as an addendum to your list: the phlegmy coughers. They are, I will admit, brilliant in their timing, choosing without fail the most pianissimo of moments in an already quiet piece.

    But on a happier note, my two CDs of The Sixteen have finally arrived, and, as I write I am listening to Ikon. To quote you, "Sublime." All I need now are the chocolates.

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  5. Your photo took me back to my years in London during the 1970's. Ballet was my great love ...I wasn't able to buy the best tickets, but that didn't matter to me. What mattered was being there, living the experience, experiencing the magic. Wonderful memories come flooding back.

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  6. And it's just the same in the theatre when you're watching plays. Someone gets out the crisps and thinks they're eating them quietly .... grrrrrr.

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  7. Oh, Friko, that was so entertaining! I smiled and smiled, and when I wasn't smiling, I shook my head sagely, intoning 'How true! How true!' A brilliant piece.

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  8. I found this especially interesting as a season ticket holder for our wonderful local symphony. I am one of those who dresses up, arrives early and pays attention. I think it's a matter of respect for our fine musicians and Maestro Z. and the beautiful gift they share with us.

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  9. How I've missed a Scraper's-eye view of life. Thank you for this, Friko.

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  10. How good to get to read your wonderful pieces again. I have not felt well and trying to get myself into the DM way of living. I have noted every single type of concert and play goer you mentioned. Used to love to dress up and go and haven't done that much in the last few years. Had planned to serve as an usher at the theater when I retired, so I could see every show, but waited too late and now not able. Great piece ole gal.
    QMM

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  11. I enjoyed this post very much. You tell it like it is, and that is indeed the way it is.

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  12. I have never been to a concert. I would be in awe.

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  13. Too funny! I haven't been to a concert od classical music in years -- but when I did go, back in my college years, I always enjoyed the music quite intensely -- right up till I fell sound asleep.

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  14. Whatever the category, I'm sure some pleasure is got from the performance. I used to go on those school field trips to the symphony. It was optional as I recall and I always signed up. Invariably, I always fell asleep toward the end no matter how hard I tried not to.

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  15. Imagine being a preacher, Sunday after Sunday, looking down at the congregation in all its glory.
    I found this piece just a tad depressing - maybe it's where I am right now. Made me think 'why bother' unless, of course, one just likes music.

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  16. What a delightful piece, and interesting perspective! I would hope I am part of the first group, but my husband, the musician, IS NOT. Once upon a time, I gave said hubby outrageously expensive tickets to a performance by one of his favorites at a great symphony hall - we've been to plenty of casual places, but this was NICE. We had primo box seats and everything. That fool acted like Jethro Bodine the whole time - "When's it gonna START?" "They're LATE!" "Is this guy never gonna stop playing?" I'm gonna go get a Coke - you want something?" My comments were limited to "shhhhhhhh!"

    Oh, and humming? How about he put his own words to the music and tapped his program in time on the rail in front of us!

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  17. my experience of being on a stage is that it very much depends on the venue - anywhere that holds much more than 30 people and is dark you can't really see much of the audience anyway - in smaller places i tend to stare at the floor.

    In absolutely the best situations you get so involved in what is going on that you barely notice that anyone is there watching anyway

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  18. Great post, Friko. I shall pop back when I have more time (?2012 at this rate!) and read more of your blog. Thanks for your comment on mine. We live in Hereford, and I usually do the Flea market twice a month in Ludlow - my stall is in a cold and windy spot at the top of the road that goes down to the car park with the talking toilets (have you been in those? - 'These toilets are time-limited' it drones about 2 secs after you've got in there - 'You will be warned when your time is ending' - in a loo?!) Are you in Ludlow? Abby

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  19. Perfect timing, Friko. My daughter is taking half-a-dozen of her friends to a symphony concert tonight to hear, among other things, her favourite Scheherazade' . She has insisted on correct dress and is determined to expand the musical tastes of her peers. Where does she fit? Maybe in the first group. Definitely a music lover, thanks to being introduced to classical music at any early age. That approach, however, didn't take so well for the boys, although the youngest fell in love with Fauré's Pavane last year and played it as a guitar/flute duet with his sister at their grandmother's funeral.
    More please, Maestro! I want your insider's knowledge.

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  20. friko i have so many excellent life changing memories of seeing and hearing music but my favourite is when my mum took me as a little boy to see sir john barbirolli conduct the halle orchestra at manchester free trad hall. we had standing tickets but the place visually blew me away - i was probably five or six years old - and then watching john waltz as he conducted some strauss - well i'd never seen a man dance. steven

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  21. Hi Friko, I hate to see any lack of respect for the performers as on a whole they are very classy, educated, talented people.
    ALL of the things you mentioned happen with regularity at Sunday Mass. I guess the priest feels the same way... Love, Margaret

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  22. Friko, this is one of my favorite postings ever. I had never thought about what the orchestra thought of us. How funny!

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  23. This is great. I sometimes have the feeling, when a player gazes in my direction, that she's looking directly at me. I imagine her fantasizing that she will select one person and direct her performance at him.

    We in the audience have a responsibility to conduct ourselves in an appropriate manner. Once it's over, if the performance has been very good, then you'd better stand up, smile, cheer. Let them know you like what they've done. DO NOT leave the auditorium prematurely.

    Tonight I will hear the Florida Orchestra perform Beethoven's 9th. The month of February has been most unkind to me Friko. I need this bit of joy so very desperately.

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