Concert etiquette

The behavior of concert-goers is growing more and more irritating to me, but perhaps for reasons different from what you might expect. At the Susan Graham concert mentioned below, the audience applauded after every. Single. Movement. Of. Every. Piece. That. We. Played. On the one hand, I genuinely appreciated their enthusiasm. I had overheard several folks talking in the parking lot who had never been to the symphony. I was happy to have them there. I know also of others for whom this was their first concert-going experience. I'm sure they had no idea how to behave, just as I wouldn't know how to behave during my first Japanese Tea Ceremony. I'd do my best to get along, and show my appreciation for what I was participating in. On the other hand, we don't get paid by the hour.

So these people came and saw our orchestra and evidently really enjoyed themselves and hopefully they'll come back. Can they be trained to behave according to the rules of Western Art Music Concert Etiquette? If so, how? I can't imagine lecturing the audience for 10 minutes before the show about how they should and shouldn't behave, nor would I want to sit through that as an audience member.

Here's where so-called music appreciation classes come in. Most of these classes have a concert report assignment of some sort, and the professor generally goes over how one behaves at a concert. (I'm not pointing fingers--I've done plenty of this myself and, presented with the opportunity, probably would again.) Recently a chapter of a new book crossed my desk that caused me to think a lot more about the concert-going experience.

The book is Attending and Enjoying Concerts by Ken Bloom and Josh Wellman. This book was part of a Pearson Reading Hour project organized by the publisher, and Chapter 3 came across my desk as a sample to read and review (note: I never got around to reading it and sending anything to Pearson I did read it; I never responded to the questions Pearson sent). Chapter 3 is titled "Classical instrumental performances." The book includes chapters on opera-going, as well as chapters on jazz, folk, and rock concerts.

The chapter proceeds pretty much as one might expect. You should learn about the composers' lives, listen to recordings of the pieces you'll hear, listen to other music by the composer, etc. Do these activities really enhance your appreciation of the concert, especially if you've never been to a concert before? I'm not really sure. That's something I might do, but I'm already a card-carrying member of the society.

As the chapter unfolds, however the authors make me very uncomfortable about attending a classical instrumental concert. They suggest that one arrives 20-30 minutes early for the show to take care of the basic human urges and to get to your seat early. You wouldn't want to show up in the nick of time and have to climb over "angry people to get to your seat" (20). The preliminary section concludes as follows:

While you are preparing your mind to experience a sophisticated and highly-evolved event, always keep in mind that your brain is inside a body. That body is basically that of an animal, so you have to address the human animal’s basic needs. If you’ve cleared your head and taken care of those other needs before the concert begins, you have gone a long way toward preparing yourself to have the best possible experience; if you’ve gone further and done some homework first, you’re even more likely to have a good time and like what you hear (20).

Really? "Sophisticated and highly-evolved?"

So, now on to what to wear:

Classical music performances usually call for a button-down shirt and nice dress pants for men and a nice dress or stylish outfit for women. You don’t have to get decked-out like you’re going to prom or even wear a suit and tie, but you’ll feel more comfortable if you’re just a little dressed up. This is especially true in large concert halls—you’ll see a bunch of gray hair and a bunch of suits, but you don’t have to wear that to feel comfortable. Here are some basic guidelines—minimum and maximum—to help you make the right choice:

• Men: At a minimum, wear a nice button-down shirt and khaki pants. At the maximum, the suit and tie noted above will not usually be out of place. You will be underdressed if you wear jeans, a T-shirt, or sneakers; you will be overdressed (and possibly mistaken for one of the performers or an usher) if you wear a tuxedo.
  
• Women: At a minimum, wear a nice skirt or slacks and a blouse or sweater. At the maximum, wear a nice cocktail dress. If you are in the lower level of the theater, you will be underdressed if you wear jeans, a T-shirt, or sneakers; regardless of where you sit, you will usually be overdressed if you wear a fancy gown.
  

If you are seated in the upper reaches of the theater near the rear, jeans can be perfectly acceptable attire, but don’t wear jeans with holes, and no T-shirts—and that rule applies to men and women alike! (20-1)

Lots of gray-haired folks in suits? I might be mistaken for an usher? Jeans might or might not be OK depending on where I'm sitting? I can't wait.

Among the things you should bring to a concert: two [!] cough drops (but don't unwrap them during the performance--only during applause or intermission "Because no matter how quietly you try to unwrap them, they will make a little crinkling noise that is extremely irritating to everyone, everywhere (21)."

So here's the typical concert-going audience as painted (so far) by Bloom and Wellman:



I've rambled on long enough today. I'll continue this in the not-too-distant future...