It's been a while since I last entered what I call the high-rant district, wherein I essay on a topic that sticks in my craw of sorts, but with the end of another summer theatre season nearing, I thought I would address yet again a pet peeve of mine of long standing.
As a theatre and concert-goer for almost four decades now (yeesh!) there really is not much I have not seen while sitting in the audience. I'm not talking here about what's going on up on the stage, but rather in the audience. You wouldn't believe what people think they can get away with when the lights go down - or even before. So every now and again I like to get up on my proverbial high horse and get a collective litany of social sins off my chest. It is cathartic, let me tell you, and good for the soul, so here goes.
One of the worst things you can do in a theatre while the performance is underway is to talk - loudly - to the person beside you. I have heard more than my share of so-called private conversations I have no desire to be privy to, yet people seem to labour under the misconception they are in fact at home in their favourite easy chair watching television. There are other people around, don't forget, so if you must talk to someone during the performance, please keep it at a whisper and short, and those around you will appreciate it. While we're on the topic of verbiage during a performance, singing is even worse, and this I find is particularly acute during a popular musical. Years ago when Stratford staged The Sound of Music at the Festival Theatre, a lady in the row directly behind me decided to sing along with the performers - rather loudly. I know there are Sing-along Sound of Music productions around now, but this lady was clearly not aware this was not one of them. A word of advice: if you were not hired to be IN the production, you are better off not singing WITH the production.
In years past one of my big complaints was the constant unwrapping of hard candies during the performance. No amount of cajoling from theatre staff has ever remedied this situation, although gentle humour appears to help. The Stratford Shakespeare Festival during the Des McAnuff tenure has taken to having the Artistic Director voice a rather light-hearted approach to the perennial problem, and it seems to have helped. I know of one theatre company years ago even offering hard candies - already unwrapped - in a large bowl by the entrance to the theatre. Clever idea, but given the number of people who still do not wash up after visiting the washroom, not the most sanitary solution to the problem.
The problem with unwrapping candies is there simply is no good time to do it during a performance. Usually it is about thirty seconds after the play has started, which I find doubly annoying since a minute ago while the lights were still up you had the time and the verbal cover of the audience still talking to mask the noise, but no, you had to wait until everything is quiet before you think you need a candy. Now, how do you unwrap it? Logic would dictate, one supposes, you quickly unwrap the candy if you absolutely must have one during the performance, but in most cases people try to do it s-l-o-w-l-y, thus stretching out the agony for those around you who would like nothing more than to hear the performance they have paid good money to attend. Get it over with quick if you must unwrap at all.
More than candies these days, the worst offender to solitude during a performance is...you guessed it: the cellphone. People still don't get it: turn the thing off in the theatre and others will thank you for it. You are likely not the Prime Minister of the country nor a mafia don who always has to have contact with the world, so do us all a favour and turn the thing off. At one Shaw performance this season, a gentleman in the row across the aisle from me allowed his new smartphone to ring loudly through several rings, twice, before he stopped it. Everyone in the theatre could hear it and it was frankly embarrassing. Of course, he had an old-style phone ring, which made matters even worse. When an usher talked to him at intermission, he explained, apparently, he just got it and didn't know how to turn the darn thing off. An honest mistake, perhaps, but his wife shot him a look that made a death stare seem bearable in comparison.
With smartphones all the rage now, and yes I succumbed myself earlier this year, people just can't seem to do without the things even during a performance. The number of times the darkness of the theatre has been broken by that luminous object as a person tries to "sneak a peek" when others won't notice...believe me, we all notice. I so often see people scrolling through items on the screen just as the lights go down, I am concerned they might go into social contact withdrawal for the hour or so the lights are down. C'mon people, give it up for the time it takes to enjoy some live theatre!
Finally, I want to address an area that I am sure will label me once and for all an old fuddy-duddy, or worse. Has the world lost the ability to dress for the theatre? I know it is recreational time for you and you are not at work after all, but really, can you not bring even the slightest sense of occasion to going out to the theatre? Time was you dressed up for the theatre, and some still do. I am one of them, in fact, as there are now so few opportunities to do so in this more casual age. But still, doing without cutoff shorts and a tee shirt with a questionable cartoon on it can't be that difficult, can it? You don't have to go overboard, but treating the theatre as more than merely an extension of your dress-down weekend is not really a bad thing.
While we're at it, a few words about men with hats. I know, hardly any man has worn a hat other than a ball cap since President Kennedy was inaugurated in 1960. But some still do and the good sense rules once prevalent still apply today. With more men rediscovering a nice fedora or panama in the summer, here's a quick primer courtesy of David Rotman, the legendary Toronto hatter on Spadina I used to visit when I first got back into hats myself years ago. We see in old movies a man removing his hat every time a woman approaches. Not really necessary, said David. Simply touch the brim with your forefinger as you nod and smile. A nice, small gesture that speaks volumes. But the bigger problem is when to actually remove the hat. Many men these days who have rediscovered a nice hat don't bother to remove them - ever. General rule of thumb: if you go indoors, you remove your hat. In an elevator? Remove it there, too. A few years ago I attended a concert at the Avalon Ballroom at Casino Niagara and a gentleman in one of the front rows continued to wear his fedora throughout the show! Unless you are Sinatra circa 1963 worrying about your receding hairline, you remove your hat while indoors and certainly while in the theatre. I hold mine in my lap or slip it under the seat.
At classical concerts, dressing properly in the traditional sense can translate on either side of the footlights, by the way. Tradition has always dictated formal black in one form or another, with the men always getting the short end of then stick here. Women musicians will often wear a formal dress or gown, but many can get away with a black sweater and slacks, as it looks formal enough at a distance. But male concert musicians have to shlep around in a tuxedo of questionable origins. That's fine enough, I suppose, but consider this: If you go to a larger centre such as Hamilton or Toronto, for example, white tie and tails is the norm at classical concerts, and the look is always right. I know, it is an archaic outfit now worn only by concert musicians, conductors and those pretending to be Fred Astaire, but the look really does say something special. I was at a chamber concert last winter, in fact, and Douglas Miller, principal flute with the Niagara Symphony, was one of the soloists. He was in white tie and tails and quite frankly looked fantastic. Much better than the standard-fare tux worn for the Niagara Symphony concerts. Now, musicians will bristle at the thought of having to go out and buy tails for heaven's sake in this day and age, but trust me, the end result is worth it. Again, it brings a sense of occasion to the proceedings.
That goes for conductors too, by the way. Dress down or "jeans concerts" aside, if you have the tails, gentlemen, wear them while on the podium. You might not look like Stokowski up there with a cloud of white hair, but you'll look pretty darn good, and I have it on good authority the women love the look by the way. At the debut Masterworks concert this season, for example, Niagara Symphony Music Director Bradley Thachuk tried to look a little more hip wearing a black suit and open collar black shirt. Fine for a small chamber concert outside of a standard concert hall where everyone might be more casual, but at a classical concert in a concert hall, sorry but tradition for this writer still rules.
There. I have it all off my chest now and I can get on to other things. Have I told you about my new smartphone? Give me time, I will...
October 19th, 2012.
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