Archive for the ‘audience participation’ Category

Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dominant 7ths?

Saturday, July 31st, 2010

Obsessing over food and where it comes from seems to have become this era’s answer to previous nationwide fads like blogging in the early ’00s, Bill Clinton’s sex life in the ’90s, and  chasing the almighty dollar in the ’80s. I’ll admit, I’m an unashamed participant in this foodie thing. I bake my own bread, tend a good-sized backyard vegetable and herb garden, and probably spend almost as many hours cooking as I do playing music in an average week.

I also, and here’s the shameful part, am totally addicted to the Food Network. I can’t really figure out why, since I’m all about learning and perfecting new ways of making food, and the Food Network as it exists in 2010 is primarily about watching minor celebrities eat food that someone else has prepared, usually either on closed sets that you’re not invited to, or in restaurants hundreds or thousands of miles away from where you live. Sure, there’s still a smattering of shows where knowledgeable people actually show you how to cook things, but they’re few and far between. Strangely, this does not seem to have dampened my interest in the channel even a little bit. I really have no excuse for this – it is what it is.

The other night, I was writing a blog post while watching an episode of one of the most polarizing shows on the Food Network. It’s called Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives, and it’s hosted by a frost-tipped hipper-than-thou California freakshow named Guy Fieri. (For some reason, he pronounces his last name “Fietti.” I’m assuming this is an attempt to sound Italian. It doesn’t.) There are foodies out there who despise Guy Fieri. They hate his laugh, they hate his catch phrases, they hate his hair, and they particularly hate that his show celebrates big fatty slabs of American-style comfort food – heavy on the meat and dairy, please – at a time when most of the foodie culture is centered around rediscovering healthful eating and worshiping Michael Pollan as a minor god.

Figure 1: Why Foodies Hate Guy Fieri

I am not one of these people, partly because I just don’t get that worked up about other people’s eating habits, but mostly because I don’t see any reason that Guy Fieri and Michael Pollan can’t coexist. Pollan is all about balanced diets, sustainable agriculture, local and seasonal eating, and weaning America off our factory-farmed, high fructose corn syrup-soaked, genetically modified supply chain. Fieri is all about guilty pleasures, sustainable agriculture, local and seasonal eating, and weaning us off the endlessly generic and tasteless fast food chains that have replaced mom-and-pop diners across the US. (No, really, he is. Go read this if you don’t believe me.) That’s a lot of common ground, and let’s face it, Michael Pollan probably enjoys a tasty burger on occasion, too, so…

Yeah, I know. Music blog. Not food blog. Get to the point. Fine. In a minute.

See, there’s pretty obviously a disconnect right now between the hardcore world of seasonal-eating, corn-fed-beef-eschewing foodies who know what kohlrabi is, and the larger American society where most people want to eat healthier and have no interest in destroying the environment just so they can have a cheeseburger, but don’t have the time or inclination to devote huge chunks of their lives to changing everything about their food supply. (There are various class, race, and geographic issues at play here, of course, but in the interest of not boring you to tears, I’m not going to get into them just now.)

I see a very direct parallel between the food disconnect I’ve just described, and the gulf that exists between hardcore classical music lovers who refer to Beethoven String Quartets by their opus numbers and have definite opinions on Karajan vs. Bernstein, and the wider populace that, for the most part, has nothing against classical music, but doesn’t have the time or inclination to obsess over it and consequently feels completely alienated by the clublike atmosphere that pervades its core audience. And while I don’t think there’s a blessed thing wrong with knowing Beethoven’s opus numbers, I worry that the primary exposure most outsiders get to classical music these days is the same kind of exposure they get to the idea of a sustainable food system: that is to say, earnest, overly intellectual pleas and lectures from upper middle class white folks who shop at a coop, adore NPR and Al Gore, and get a CSA box delivered to their house every week.

If I’m right, that’s a shockingly limited demographic of advocates, and, I believe, one which doesn’t begin to represent the broad swath of people who actually come to Minnesota Orchestra concerts every week. And in the same way that I think the local/sustainable food movement will only really gain traction in a global way once it allows a whole lot of non-purists in the door, I think classical music needs a whole lot more advocates whose exhortations sound a lot less like this and a lot more like our friend Emily Liz from a couple of weeks back.

Figure 2: Nobody cares what this guy thinks anymore.

We’re living in the age of Ultimate Word of Mouth, where a lot of the cultural and intellectual discoveries we make come from hearing or reading someone else’s enthusiastic endorsement in some far-flung corner of the internet that we happen to frequent. Restaurants, rock bands, video games, and orchestras sink or swim based on how many well-connected people we can get to talk us up, not just to friends and neighbors, but to the much wider circle of Facebook friends, blog readers, and Twitter followers.

A lot of that sort of thing is beyond our control as performers, of course, except to the extent that we generate interest by visibly and audibly giving our all every time we step onstage. (No small consideration, since far too may orchestra musicians still seem to think looking bored or irritated while performing is okay.) But other industries are way ahead of us in using the good will and enthusiasm of our existing fans to draw in new ones, and like Guy Fieri making a point of visiting a greasy spoon that grinds its own grass-fed beef and tops it with locally made cheese, we could do a lot worse than welcoming in as many non-experts as we can find, and finding out what it takes to connect with them on a deeply personal level.

Posted in audience participation, food, marketing, state of the art | 7 Comments »

Meformer, youformer

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009

An interesting blurb on categories of internet social networking users (although, I mean, come on, couldn’t they have come up with something a bit catchier than “meformer”?). Basically, social networkers break down into 2 categories – people posting about their current activities/emotions (80% of users) and those sharing non-personal information (news links, for instance).

In my downtime (or if I’m procrastinating on score-studying/script-writing), I can become a Facebook junkie, and I’m Twitter a few times a day – often to check up on tweets from the several dozen people/organizations that I follow, from the Berlin Philharmonic to Nico Muhly. Certainly any arts organization that’s halfway with the times maintains an online presence on the major social networking sites, but sometimes it feels like this is done through the need to pay lip service to new technologies rather than to actually use them to the advantage of the organization.

Then there are those who consider utilizing the online medium to its fullest advantage; some progressive thoughts here from the new CEO of the Columbus Symphony (which has just weathered a particularly trying time) about live streaming (with which, coincidentally, the Berlin Philharmonic has been experimenting).

I’m particularly interested in the proposed collaboration with InstantEncore (full disclosure; a friend is COO of the company) and the various services it provides. I firmly believe that establishing this kind of wide presence (and wide access of product) is crucial to the future or symphonic concert music.

I guess I often feel that arts organizations need to think beyond meforming and informing and focus instead of youforming (can I coin that phrase?) – it’s not enough to give information about upcoming concerts or share industry news; it’s more about finding a way to directly engage potential (and current) audiences online. Which I definitely see some organizations doing. What’s the next step we should take in this brave new world?

Posted in audience participation, contemporary culture, music and technology | 2 Comments »

The Occasionally Audible Audience

Monday, September 28th, 2009

With the start of a new season, all of us in the orchestra are reacquainting ourselves with everything from the repertoire we’re playing to the sometimes curious conceits of the concert hall. (It’s amazing to me how unfamiliar some of the simplest acts, like remembering to stand up when the conductor walks out at the beginning of the show, can be after only a few weeks away.) And of course, we’re also reacquainting ourselves with our audience.

Sometimes, that’s a wonderful experience. Last Saturday, as we were plowing through Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije, I caught sight of a couple in the front row who I hadn’t seen at any previous concert. I’d guess they were in their late 30s, and as soon as I noticed them, I knew I’d be watching them for the rest of the evening. He was slightly balding, tall and attractively slim, with an intense quality to his face, and he had the kind of eyes that seem to suggest that he’s absorbing literally everything going on around him. She had dark shoulder-length hair, wide eyes, and a devastatingly pleasant smile. I know about the smile because the more we played, the more she smiled.

The two of them spent the whole of the concert reacting quietly to every single thing that happened on stage. Every time Osmo showed off a flashy move, or crouched down to indicate a pianissimo, her face would light up, and his eyes would flash. When the second violins and violas began scrubbing furiously during a passage in Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty, the two of them stared wide-eyed for a moment, then turned to each other to make sure the other had seen it. Together, they had that innocent quality of children seeing something incredible for the first time, but judging by how knowingly they looked around as the music played, I’m certain they’ve spent some time in concert halls before.

By their mere presence, these two made the concert twice as enjoyable for me. I desperately wanted to corner them before they left and tell them what a pleasure it is to play for people who are so obviously enjoying what we’re doing, but in the end, I decided not to, for fear that it would make them self-conscious, and thus less likely to buy front-row seats next time.

Then, of course, there’s the other side of reacquainting with your audience. We’ve yet to have a cell phone interrupt the music (that I could hear, at least,) possibly because our usual pre-concert admonition to turn them off is being augmented at the moment by a special announcement from Osmo regarding the fact that Hyperion is recording our first two weeks of concerts for a CD project with pianist Stephen Hough. But I’m guessing it won’t be more than another week or so before we get the first cell-based intrusion of the season.

It’s never easy to know what to do as a performer when this happens. Most of us settle for pretending we can’t hear it, or tossing a brief glare or head-shake in the direction of the offender. But every once in a while, someone snaps, and confronts the rudeness directly. Actor Hugh Jackman is the latest to make headlines for this, having broken character in his New York production of A Steady Rain to chastise an audience member whose phone. would. not. stop. ringing...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBMkJOAP8l8]

The best onstage reaction I ever saw to a cell phone intrusion was from comedian Paula Poundstone, who was midway through a set at the old Guthrie Theater (this was sometime around 2001) when a phone started to ring very loudly. Without missing a beat, Paula turned towards the sound, and insisted that the phone be handed to her immediately. As soon as she had it in hand, she answered the call, and proceeded to improvise five of the funniest minutes of stand-up comedy I have ever seen in my life, centering around the caller’s reason for calling at that exact moment.

As it happened, the person being called had inadvertently locked his housemate out when he left for the show, and the housemate was trying to get the keys to get back inside. Paula actually convinced him to catch a bus to the Guthrie to reclaim the keys, and half an hour later, the caller came trotting down the aisle for his keys, which Paula handed to him personally, before creating another few minutes of impromptu laughs from the situation. It was utterly brilliant.

So, anyone else got a favorite story of a performer retaliating against the audience? I collect these, so seriously, chime in down in the comments. If there are any truly great ones, I’ll pass them along to Osmo for possible future use…

Posted in audience participation, the long-suffering audience | 4 Comments »

DIY Music

Friday, August 7th, 2009

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the culture of music and musicians, and how distinct the line seems to have become over the decades between those who play an instrument and those who don’t. Time was that everyone and his sister played something, mainly because the array of entertainment options available didn’t yet include many passive activities like TV, so hobbies that involved actual skill were still something people considered fun.

But these days, when someone I’ve just met asks what I do for a living, the response I get is either a glazed look, or an enthusiastic endorsement of my career choice, followed by a timid admission that the questioner also once played some instrument or other, back in school, but hasn’t picked it up in years. The obvious implication is that, if you aren’t a full-fledged musical expert, you can’t possibly hope to really tap into the culture of musical performance, and that’s just sad, because it’s so untrue, and so antithetical to what the arts are supposed to be about.

Consider, for example, what’s happened with the culture of food and cooking over the last decade or so. Where once Americans drew a bright, shining line between those who cook fancy, upscale food for a living, and those of us who dump slop out of a can and heat it up in the microwave, “real” home cooking has made an astonishing comeback, and restaurants and professional chefs have benefitted immeasurably as a result. Say what you want about the Food Network, but that little marvel of cable niche programming (along with many other influences, of course,) has brought a New York level of foodie sophistication to countless smaller American cities, and allowed even the humblest of home cooks to toss around terms like “julienne” and “gazpacho” without feeling like a snooty wannabe.

Then think about what the internet, that most reviled of all cultural levelers, has done for the world of reading and writing. Yes, a lot of the junk that you can read online isn’t really worth anyone’s time, and yes, many of the people who write online seem to need a serious remedial-level English course, but that’s not the point. After decades of decline in the number of Americans who bother with words at all, ordinary people are reading and writing again in huge numbers! And that can’t be anything but good for those who write for a living.

So that brings us back to music. The online world has led to an explosion of renewed interest in listening to music (if not paying for it,) but for classical music, which is so dependent on the devotion of listeners who really understand the little interactions and turns of phrase going on during a performance, we desperately need to rekindle a culture of amateur interest in not only listening to what we do, but playing the music oneself. There are pockets of amateur musicians around the country who still get together to read quartets or four-hand piano arrangements, but they’re few and far between, and for most of the population, musical instruments have become relics of childhood, something fun you did in junior high, but nothing you’d ever consider pursuing into adulthood.

So what about it? When’s the last time you picked up your old clarinet or trombone? Do you think you appreciate music more because you once knew how to play it yourself? And if so, why’d you stop? What would it take to get you to start up again? And what can those of us who do this stuff for a living do to help break down the barrier between we as professional performers and you as potential amateur ones?

Posted in audience participation, concert culture | 10 Comments »