FMS-Blog : The Wildly Whimsical, Mostly Musical WebLog
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Concert Culture Experiments
One of the first and most crucial things that a student of ethnomusicology will learn is that music's function is not consistent throughout the world, nor is it static. Ethnomusicology (the study of world music, and usually non-Western musics with an emphasis on folk traditions) teaches us that the 'concert culture', so respected by audiences across Western Europe and North America, simply does not apply in many other regions. Other cultures employ music for different reasons (or, at least, reasons that are more explicitly clear) and enjoy it in entirely different ways.
Attending any concert anywhere in the Western World, a music lover will, in the vast majority of cases, find a very similar arrangement, both physically and philosophically. In terms of the physical arrangement of the space, there is usually a separate area for the two groups involved in a performance - one for the audience and one for the performers. The performers' area is usually raised in some way and, especially in larger venues, is sectioned off from the audience, either with some kind of physical barrier (such as a set of monitors) or simply with a space that neither the audience nor the performers enter (we're all subconsciously aware of the 'rules' by which this game is played so it is rare that it is necessary to mark these spaces in any way). When the venue is seated, the first row is usually some distance away from the front edge of the performance area and the chairs are arranged facing the stage. Equally, of course, the musicians are arranged so that they are looking back at the audience (except in cases where there is a practical need for a performer to look elsewhere, such is that of the conductor of an orchestra).
This physical arrangement of the objects and spaces around a performance venue go some way to dictating the roles that each participant is expected to play when they enter the room - the separation of audience and performer indicates that the two have entirely different parts to play in the proceedings and, in fact, the raising of the stage area suggests that there is a hierarchy of sorts being set up - placing the performers in a physically elevated position has the effect of psychologically elevating their social status (perhaps as a result of the evolutionary awareness of the vulnerability forced upon beings who are closer to the ground?!). These factors put together (among many more subtle signals) leave Western audiences with little flexibility in terms of how they approach a live musical performance - they are mostly expected to bestow their every attention on the musicians to the detriment of all other things, especially in Classical music concerts where it is usually considered rude even to whisper to the person next to you whilst the performance is going on, saving coughs and sneezes for the silences between movements and claps for the end of a piece. Even in more informal environments such as rock concerts played out in large auditoriums or stadiums, the physical space is very carefully divided up according to some measurement of rank, with those on the stage at the top of the pecking order and those in the cheapest seats or standing areas at the bottom.
The fact is, though, that this particular tradition / habit of experiencing live music in this fashion is not common throughout the world and actually many examples can be cited where the clear line between performer and audience is considerably blurred to the degree that all those present are simply considered participants of an event. One such example I have described in this blog a couple of months ago : in the pubs in Ireland people are invited to be involved in the music either by listening while they enjoy a drink, singing along or bringing instruments and simply joining in with those who are already playing. There is no physical barrier between performers and audiences because these events take place in public bars with the musicians just gathered around a table or sitting in the corner somewhere. Equally, in parts of South Asia concerts are approached in a very different manner to the way we in the West participate as audience members - whilst some Asian Classical music is being performed many of the audience members continue with conversations, eat, turn away and generally allow their attentions to wander to other things - behaviour that would be seriously frowned upon in the concert halls of Great Britain, even when the performers themselves are used to another concert culture (I remember seeing Ravi Shankar playing a concert in Bradford's St. George's Hall many years ago and I thought it was strange even then that everyone in the audience sat in silence to respect this Indian player of sitar).
One of the reasons I think people in the Western World continue to embrace our notion of the concert culture is because they believe that observing these customs (including the way musicians and audiences dress during the course of a concert) bestows respect on those musicians who have worked to hard to become masters of their trade, and maintaining a distinct divide between performers and listeners ensures some element of quality control on the product that they have (usually) paid to experience. Certainly, this seems to have been the reaction that Professor Eric Edburg got from some of the audiences members at DePauw University who attended his recent 'experiment to combat crisis in Classical music' in which he attempted to break down some of the aforementioned cultural requirements for a Western Classical concert:
Another view that I have come across in the past from those who are big fans of the traditional concert culture is that they would struggle to take an orchestra seriously if the instrumentalists and conductor were all wearing jeans and t-shirts rather than the traditional suit. For me, this again speaks clearly of a social hierarchy that supports the notion that those who are dressed in a given way will behave or perform in a complementary fashion. This, I believe, to be the reason that it is still the norm in workplaces across the UK and USA for staff to conform to certain (mostly) unwritten dresscodes, such as the shirt-and-tie for office workers - totally uncomfortable, impractical and unnecessary. Equally with orchestra members : I know from experience that wearing loosely fitting clothes (such as t-shirts) makes the job of playing an instrument or singing much more comfortable and, so, it stands to reason that the standard of musical performance at live concerts would be generally better if the musicians did not conform to the dinner-suit dresscode.
I applaud Prof Edberg for his brave attempt to look at alternativees to the Western concert culture, especially as his primary motivation is to save Classical music from what seems like an already inevitable, terminal decline. I think bringing such music to a new audience by means of trying out new ways of presenting it could be what the genre needs, although a cautionary note will always have to be made that it is better to have few people publically playing classical music well than many thousands doing it badly, however they are seen and heard by those who participate as listeners.
Attending any concert anywhere in the Western World, a music lover will, in the vast majority of cases, find a very similar arrangement, both physically and philosophically. In terms of the physical arrangement of the space, there is usually a separate area for the two groups involved in a performance - one for the audience and one for the performers. The performers' area is usually raised in some way and, especially in larger venues, is sectioned off from the audience, either with some kind of physical barrier (such as a set of monitors) or simply with a space that neither the audience nor the performers enter (we're all subconsciously aware of the 'rules' by which this game is played so it is rare that it is necessary to mark these spaces in any way). When the venue is seated, the first row is usually some distance away from the front edge of the performance area and the chairs are arranged facing the stage. Equally, of course, the musicians are arranged so that they are looking back at the audience (except in cases where there is a practical need for a performer to look elsewhere, such is that of the conductor of an orchestra).
This physical arrangement of the objects and spaces around a performance venue go some way to dictating the roles that each participant is expected to play when they enter the room - the separation of audience and performer indicates that the two have entirely different parts to play in the proceedings and, in fact, the raising of the stage area suggests that there is a hierarchy of sorts being set up - placing the performers in a physically elevated position has the effect of psychologically elevating their social status (perhaps as a result of the evolutionary awareness of the vulnerability forced upon beings who are closer to the ground?!). These factors put together (among many more subtle signals) leave Western audiences with little flexibility in terms of how they approach a live musical performance - they are mostly expected to bestow their every attention on the musicians to the detriment of all other things, especially in Classical music concerts where it is usually considered rude even to whisper to the person next to you whilst the performance is going on, saving coughs and sneezes for the silences between movements and claps for the end of a piece. Even in more informal environments such as rock concerts played out in large auditoriums or stadiums, the physical space is very carefully divided up according to some measurement of rank, with those on the stage at the top of the pecking order and those in the cheapest seats or standing areas at the bottom.
The fact is, though, that this particular tradition / habit of experiencing live music in this fashion is not common throughout the world and actually many examples can be cited where the clear line between performer and audience is considerably blurred to the degree that all those present are simply considered participants of an event. One such example I have described in this blog a couple of months ago : in the pubs in Ireland people are invited to be involved in the music either by listening while they enjoy a drink, singing along or bringing instruments and simply joining in with those who are already playing. There is no physical barrier between performers and audiences because these events take place in public bars with the musicians just gathered around a table or sitting in the corner somewhere. Equally, in parts of South Asia concerts are approached in a very different manner to the way we in the West participate as audience members - whilst some Asian Classical music is being performed many of the audience members continue with conversations, eat, turn away and generally allow their attentions to wander to other things - behaviour that would be seriously frowned upon in the concert halls of Great Britain, even when the performers themselves are used to another concert culture (I remember seeing Ravi Shankar playing a concert in Bradford's St. George's Hall many years ago and I thought it was strange even then that everyone in the audience sat in silence to respect this Indian player of sitar).
One of the reasons I think people in the Western World continue to embrace our notion of the concert culture is because they believe that observing these customs (including the way musicians and audiences dress during the course of a concert) bestows respect on those musicians who have worked to hard to become masters of their trade, and maintaining a distinct divide between performers and listeners ensures some element of quality control on the product that they have (usually) paid to experience. Certainly, this seems to have been the reaction that Professor Eric Edburg got from some of the audiences members at DePauw University who attended his recent 'experiment to combat crisis in Classical music' in which he attempted to break down some of the aforementioned cultural requirements for a Western Classical concert:
The program of short Romantic pieces invited the audience to clap between and during movements, dance in front of the stage if they felt the urge, and, above all, feel free to enjoy themselves outside of the usual constraints of a classical music performance. Edberg performed wearing a Hawaiian shirt and jeans.
The professor says, since the August 30 recital, "The overall consensus in the comments on my blog seems to be that the informality and participatory atmosphere worked, at least to a point, but that things got a bit out of hand at times. Some people liked the playing so much that they would have liked more silence," noting that is "nice to hear." He adds, "the more seriously committed, the more deeply in love with music the student I've talked to, the less they liked the audience-participation aspects of the evening. But with colleagues, at least the ones I've encountered, the more concerned they are with the incredibly shrinking audience for classical music, the more enthusiastic they are about the high attendance and the high energy at the concert. And every non-musician in the audience I've heard from simply loved it."
Another view that I have come across in the past from those who are big fans of the traditional concert culture is that they would struggle to take an orchestra seriously if the instrumentalists and conductor were all wearing jeans and t-shirts rather than the traditional suit. For me, this again speaks clearly of a social hierarchy that supports the notion that those who are dressed in a given way will behave or perform in a complementary fashion. This, I believe, to be the reason that it is still the norm in workplaces across the UK and USA for staff to conform to certain (mostly) unwritten dresscodes, such as the shirt-and-tie for office workers - totally uncomfortable, impractical and unnecessary. Equally with orchestra members : I know from experience that wearing loosely fitting clothes (such as t-shirts) makes the job of playing an instrument or singing much more comfortable and, so, it stands to reason that the standard of musical performance at live concerts would be generally better if the musicians did not conform to the dinner-suit dresscode.
I applaud Prof Edberg for his brave attempt to look at alternativees to the Western concert culture, especially as his primary motivation is to save Classical music from what seems like an already inevitable, terminal decline. I think bringing such music to a new audience by means of trying out new ways of presenting it could be what the genre needs, although a cautionary note will always have to be made that it is better to have few people publically playing classical music well than many thousands doing it badly, however they are seen and heard by those who participate as listeners.
