by Mike Telin, ClevelandClassical.com
I’ve recently become impressed by how deeply concerned organizations and companies are about finding out whether or not I have had an enjoyable experience. People everywhere are asking — how did you find your banking experience, your shopping experience, or your flight experience? Even websites have these little popup surveys — How was your experience using our online booking system?
What I would like to tell these people is, look, I got what I wanted, it didn’t take too long or cost an arm and a leg, so my experience was just fine and it would be even better if I didn’t have to talk to you. But I’m from the Mid-west so I just smile and say, thank you very much.
Then a couple of nights ago, I logged on to Hulu to watch the next episode of Doc Martin and found myself presented with the possibility of watching one of three advertisements. “Which ad experience do you prefer?” I was asked. Unfortunately “I prefer no ad experience” was not an option and therefore one was chosen for me. Ad experience, I thought — how much of an experience could I possibly have with an advertisement? And if I could, would it be a physical, a mental, a spiritual, or perhaps a virtual experience. In fact, the experience I really wanted to have did not involve watching an ad.
The same marketing consultants who have infiltrated the for-profit world have also found their way into the non-profit. I’ve recently found myself in more than a few conversations where the topic of discussion centered around the question, how can classical music organizations enhance the live concert experience? This is where I become confused, because I go to a concert for one reason, to hear music, and if the music is well played and the performers don’t talk too much, I have a good experience. In fact many times a great experience. So what are we really looking for in this “enhanced experience?”
Well perhaps soft comfy chairs and people to bring drinks and nibbles during the performance would be nice. Or, maybe some new rules like, all concerts should begin at 7:30 and last no more then 80 minutes without intermission — the exception being opera. Then you must start at 7:00 and be finished by 9:00 (brief intermissions for set changes are permitted). All introductions of pieces can last no longer than one minute, unless the performer could also have a career as a stand up comic, then the sky’s the limit.
Obviously I’m making light of a topic that is extremely important. And I do believe that presenters and artists are doing their best to find ways of creating enjoyable concert experiences that will keep the current audience satisfied as well as attracting new concertgoers.
So what are the expectations of today’s classical music audience? Maybe it is about the experience. But if so, at what expense? Are 21st century concerts going to begin to resemble reality TV? Will audiences be encouraged to tweet their thoughts about a piece during the performance to be projected above the stage? Better yet, why don’t we simply let audiences throw certain composers or pieces off the island. I know I’d happily agree to ban all performances of Chopin’s Etude op. 25 no. 11 (“Winter Wind”). But again, I digress.
If it is about the experience, what new environments need to be created that truly enhance the concert-going experience while preserving the core activities of our profession — the presenting of and listening to music?
This is why I like competitions, whether it’s music or sports — like a tennis tournament. All of the makings of riveting reality TV are already built in. During competitions it is expected that a certain number of contestants will be voted off the island. Competitions can also easily morph into a festival.
As a kid, my brothers and I waited with anticipation for Saturday afternoon to come so we could watch ABC’s Wide World of Sports — “Spanning the Globe to bring you the constant Variety of Sport – The Thrill of Victory and Agony of Defeat”. We cheered for our favorite athletes, feeling their thrill in victory and sharing their agony in defeat.
Competitions are exciting, they offer the spectator the opportunity to be close to the contestants —in the case of music, to hear them perform with the style, grace and technical command that only comes from years of training.
You’re also with them when they are struggling. Your heart skips a beat along with theirs during a memory slip or technical mishap. You can see they are beginning to become ill and you hope they can pull through.
It’s like Pete Sampras during his 1996 quarter-final match against Alex Corretja (it’s the middle of the 5th set tie break and Sampras is given a delay of game warning by the umpire because he was vomiting on the court). Yes, he did go on to win the match, as well as the tournament. When you immerse yourself in a competition you will have an experience unlike any other one-off musical or sporting event.
Like a tennis tournament, being a spectator at a music competition is not easy work. The tennis tournament is hot, the bleachers are hot and the matches can go on for hours in the direct sun. The music competition also requires long periods of sitting, the ear begins to get tired and you’re listening to the third or fourth performance of the same Beethoven Sonata. What’s a spectator to do?
If that contest is this summer’s Cleveland International Piano Competition, and you need to take a break from the main event, there are a number of choices. Go to events happening around the grounds. Go see a film at one of the booths, visit the art show, attend a lecture, or see if anyone is playing one of the pianos that have been placed around the area (try one out yourself!). And following the final concerto rounds, when the winner is announced and you’re asked about your competition experience on the way out, there is only one answer to give.
It was great on so many levels
