Art Made Easy: How to… question everything

A photo of a magnifying glass held in front of a drawing of a person in a hat and trench coat facing away from the viewer. It looks like it could be a scene from an old comic book.

I often find the implied etiquette around certain performances and events confusing. I know how a rock concert works, more or less: when to clap and that it’s okay to sing along. Going to the orchestra for the first time, I got tense between movements because am I supposed to applaud? What about standing ovations? Am I the only one tapping my toes – does my swaying to the beat look weird? Does any of this actually matter?

In short, to some people it does. Conversations about appropriateness and etiquette are really discussions about what experiences of art should be, and there’s always a push and pull between different groups of people on that. There’s the old guard who might stick to traditions because that’s just how things have always been done and the young newcomers who think tradition is less important than expression or reimagining. There’s the wishes of the performers, the qualities of the physical space, the needs of audience members, the culture(s) the art is from and the culture(s) it takes place in… 

Many writers base their advice for navigating all of these different factors (if they acknowledge all of them) on the strength or weakness of different precedents for their particular kind of performance. I think this can help inform people new to the art form of historical context that can enrich their experience, but it’s also limiting in that it only works for that particular kind of art and represents an argument for one viewpoint or another which doesn’t necessarily help someone make their own decisions.

Instead of telling you what’s right or wrong, I’m going to start by giving you a toolkit.

 

Building a Toolkit

The following advice on how to navigate all those things is written with self advocacy in mind. This is an idea that began in disabled communities, and it means the process of being able to make your own decisions about your own life, and gaining the tools to make those decisions. That might include things like building self-awareness, which is knowing your strengths, limits, personality, needs, etc. in order to make the best decision for you. I want you to be a self advocating audience member; I’m trying to give you some useful tools to understand your situation. Abled people often take this kind skill for granted, but everyone can benefit from consciously examining how and why we make the choices we do, and who benefits from those choices.

Here are some loosely grouped, broad questions to ask yourself the next time you’re part of an audience:

  1. How formal is the event? Are people dressed in suits and heels? Is it more of a jeans and a t-shirt affair? Is the atmosphere casual and relaxed?
  2. If there was a pre-show announcement, what rules about were given, if any? If this would break a rule, is what I have to say or need to do more important than the performance?*
  3. Is it a quiet moment? What’s happening onstage? Are the lights on? 
  4. Is it meant to provoke a reaction? Did someone make a joke? Did someone do something really impressive?
  5. What are the performers doing? Are they turning pages, or starting to move? Have they stopped entirely? Would you be interrupting something?
  6. What are the other people in the audience doing? Are they moving? Are they standing or sitting? Are they making noise?
  7. How do I feel emotionally? Do I want to share how I feel with others by clapping, whistling, stimming, or staying quiet? Is there someone I could communicate this feeling to later?
  8. How do I feel physically? Will I hurt if I stand up or move a certain way? Do I need to move around for my own well-being? 
  9. If I’m the only one doing something, can I deal with people looking at me? Does it matter to me if I stand out? 

If someone else is upsetting you, some questions can be directed outward to determine whether it’s really keeping you from enjoying the art. How is that person feeling emotionally and physically? Is it for their own well-being? Does it break a rule? Is it interrupting something? Is anyone being actually harmed by what’s going on? Of course, most of those answers are absolutely none of your business since people shouldn’t need to justify their self care to strangers by providing detailed reasons. Art isn’t guaranteed to make you a better, more empathetic person, but reminding myself of these questions when I’m in an audience helps me be a more active, respectful, and open participant, and it helps me chill out when someone in the next row is ticking off every single one of my pet peeves. It might even help you decide when someone’s actually taking away from the dialogue instead of adding to it, and what reaction should that performance get.

No matter how you put these questions to use, this is not a quiz you can pass or fail. No answer is right or wrong, and you might not know the answer to all of them – that’s fine. You might need different questions than the ones I have here. Some tools are more useful for some situations than others, but having a lot of different questions you can ask means you’re more likely to have some ready that will get the job done. 

In fact, if you’re part of our community here in Louisville, you might need more and varied tools than elsewhere.

 

Here and Now

In Louisville, where there are a lot of organizations actively engaging with the idea of what those experiences can look like, these nonverbal conversations audience members can participate in become more murky and also more exciting. The dedication to accessibility at Actors Theatre, the Ballet pairing up with Shakespeare in the Park for several years running, the collaborations the Kentucky College of Art and Design have done with both the Ballet and the Orchestra, so many smaller groups and individuals doing work in our communities that they need an article or twenty to list them all – together, all over the city, people are making and attending art in completely uncharted territory. 

A community arts organization isn’t YOURS just because the person in charge says it at every performance. I think they belong to the community when both the artists and the audiences come together to try and navigate what kinds of conversations art can support, both in the topics they are about and the ways those conversations are had. By taking time to consider how our – and others’ – actions affect the people and things around us in an honest and compassionate way, we help make that ownership claim true. We, as a community, now have chance after chance to rewrite the rules, to keep those artists and organizations on toes too, and to build something bigger than ourselves together.

It’ll take work on our part, and hopefully it’ll encourage work on the artists’ part too. Skills are built with slow, consistent practice, but as individuals and part of something and somewhere larger we’ll be better for it. Assessing with your own comfort level and contextual knowledge doesn’t mean you’ll never end up feeling a little embarrassed or lost, but consistently using a process like this will help you find something that works for the performance, the other people attending, and you. Hopefully, we can all find that questions lead to conversations that lead to connections. Art is a way for the people who make it to communicate with the world – how are you going to answer?

 

 

* This question presumes that sometimes rules need to be broken: for example, in an emergency, or in the face of injustice. If you answer yes to this and mean it, you only need to understand that the consequences may be serious.

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