Creating the audience, not just the work

I spent last summer working as the production manager for the Canadian Badlands Passion Play, a huge, outdoor, site-specific work depicting the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It’s a pretty spectacular production in a lot of ways, with a huge outdoor set, live animals, a cast of over 100, and completely acoustic sound effects (many of which are provided by a choir and orchestra).

As you might expect with a show that size, there were a lot of ups and downs over the course of the summer, and overall, I was really proud of the show that we put up and the work that I did, but the thing that was most disappointing was the audience. I realize that it’s partly because we had an average audience of 2000 per show, so the cross-section of people is going to be much larger than the type of theatre-goers who go see other forms of theatre. Most of the audience, proportionately, was fine, but there are those few people who just ruined it, and their behavior was one of the things that was the most disconcerting for me last year.

The show is unamplified in a natural amphitheater, in which sound carries very well. Even with 2000 people in the audience, the dialogue can be heard, and the natural mix and balance between the musicians (who sit behind the audience) and the actors means that the choir and orchestra become an underscore and ongoing soundscape.

This leads to a few issues. Because families are encouraged to come with their kids (which is a little ridiculous, since what 3-year-old is going to sit still for a 3-hour show?), a lot of parents end up taking their little ones to the back of the theatre when they get restless. In some settings, that’s fine. In this case, though, where the theatre is far wider than it is deep, and when the acoustics are such as they are, it doesn’t do much good. The thing is, if you, in the audience, can hear the choir — who is behind you — while you’re sitting in your seat, do you really think that people won’t be able to hear your child and your footsteps on the gravel paths when you’re behind them? It’s such basic common sense, but it’s amazing how many people don’t think of that. Taking a child out of the line of sight of the audience doesn’t take them out of earshot. It’s just as distracting to have a noisy child at the back as it is to have a noisy child in a seat. (Not to mention the fact that the bathrooms are at the front of the amphitheatre, stage right of the action, so taking a child to the bathroom isn’t slipping out the back; it’s walking almost onstage.)

Far worse than that, though, was the woman during one performance last year. If I’ve ever wished I could ban someone from my theatre — if there was ever an audience member who made me see red — that was it. There was a quiet scene (as in, just a few actors, as opposed to a large group scene), with some dialogue happening onstage, and one woman yells, from across the amphitheater, “Speak up!!”

She. Yelled. It. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Show.

I was speechless. I absolutely cannot fathom that level of inconsideration and rudeness. How dense do you have to be to think that behavior like that would ever, under any circumstances, be acceptable? It just floors me. If I, sitting in the choir loft at the back, could hear the lines, which I could, the reason she couldn’t hear was not a problem with the actors’ projection or the space’s acoustics. It was a problem with her hearing or concentration. Regardless of the reason, though, I just can’t understand the kind of mind that thinks that that’s an okay thing to do.

That was the worst of the run, but there were other moments, too. During one performance, at the very end, it started to get chilly and windy. It wasn’t raining, but the weather was getting nasty, and about 10 minutes before the end of the play, people started to get up and leave. And then more. And more. And more. And for the last 10 minutes of the show, there was a stream of people heading to the exit.

Again, I couldn’t believe it. You don’t get up and leave during a live performance — especially that close to the end. (I mean, come on. They’ve already put Jesus in the tomb; you know it’s going to be over soon!) It’s just not right. Not only are you being rude and disrespectful to everyone onstage who is still doing the show for you, but you’re also standing up and walking out the middle aisle between the front and back, thereby blocking the view of half the audience. And again, in what world is that acceptable? Just because the show is outdoors, people seem to think that the same protocol applies to the show as to a sports event, and it really affects the quality of the audiences that we have.

I’m the first to give the audience the benefit of the doubt when I’m directing. I try not to over-explain my symbolism and my allusions, because I give the audience credit for being able to take something from it and either get what I’m going for, not getting it at all, or getting something else out of it. That’s part of the beauty of theatre — it’s interpreted differently through every set of eyes. A director and the actors can only take the audience so far; after that, it’s the audience’s responsibility to engage and respond.

However, last summer made me question that faith, because if people aren’t even giving the show the courtesy of watching respectfully, how are they engaging with it and interacting with it?

I’m not a theatre elitist. Theatre comes in so many different forms and functions that require something different from its audience, and I really believe that there’s something out there that will reach everyone. Sometimes, theatre is messy and unstructured, and that’s what it’s supposed to be. Sometimes it’s formal; sometimes it’s subdued; sometimes it’s celebratory and noisy; sometimes it’s chaotic. It can be all things, and it can be for all people.

I’ve said many times that I think that teaching children to be responsible, responsive, invested, vibrant, interactive arts patrons (music, dance, theatre, visual arts — the whole works) is one of the most important social skills that needs to be passed on. I am fully supportive of making the arts accessible to everyone, through education, through schools, through free and cheap events, through increased visibility — whatever. I think that the arts are one of society’s most important legacies; far more important than, say, sports and equally as important as scientific, social, and political advances, in my opinion. If we didn’t believe that, Colin and I wouldn’t make the arts our careers, because trust me, it’s not about the money. People need to be engaged in the arts, but that also means that people need to learn to be patrons, not just audience members. It means learning what’s appropriate in any given setting.

In general, being a considerate audience member doesn’t mean being silent. Reactions are what make live theatre special. It’s what the actors thrive on. However, being a considerate audience member also means not getting up in the middle of the act to go to the washroom, opening a bag of snacks during the performance, whispering your “revelations” or pointing out obvious observations (or asking questions) to the person beside you. (I swear, at every show we go to, we end up in front of or beside someone particularly stupid who feels the need to maintain a running commentary for the people they came with. We mock them mercilessly.)

I feel helpless. How do we, as artists and as patrons ourselves, educate people? Leading by example doesn’t seem to work, because people don’t notice the audience members who aren’t being disruptive. People get offended when their mistakes are pointed out to them, and they get snippy when it’s pointed out directly. When it’s announced at the top of the show, people either don’t listen, or they tend to do the whole, “Well, I’m just one person getting up and moving, so obviously it doesn’t apply to me; it’s for everyone else” mindset. Sometimes I think that the only way to solve it is to get everyone up on stage with a rude audience, so they know what it feels like.

How do you do it? How do you teach an audience how to behave — especially when said audience is over the age of 10? How do you reinforce acceptable behavior and discourage unacceptable, inconsiderate behavior? I understand intellectually, although it’s so far out of my experience that I have a hard time really believing it, that there are people who have never patronized the performing arts. I theoretically understand that some people just don’t do that, that it’s not a priority, that they have no frame of reference, that they never saw theatre as children, that they weren’t exposed to any live performances. Still, though — these rules of etiquette aren’t just things that fit into theatre. It’s common sense for a classroom, a meeting, a church service, a wedding… I can’t understand how people don’t have some sort of reference for viewing the performing arts.

So how do we do it? How do we teach people to be good audience members? And more than that, how do we teach people to watch theatre critically and thoughtfully? How do we teach them to engage and go beyond just expecting entertainment to a fuller, richer understanding of the arts?