In a chapter from David Byrne’s “How
Music Works” he explains how he invited a famous Peking
Opera actor to observe a Talking Heads concert.
One piece of advice the actor gave was that you need to let the audience
know something is going to happen before it happens. When David questioned that advice, (why would
you want to ruin a surprise, for example) the gist of the answer was “audiences
are dumb”.
Now, this wasn’t meant to insult
the intelligence of the members so to speak, but that to state when you’re
trying to show the audience this really cool thing over HERE, half of them may
be looking over THERE instead. You see
this all the time with people filming taiko – they’ll record 2 minutes of
someone playing a straight beat in the back while an awesome solo is happening
five feet away.
This phenomenon happens a lot when people
make mistakes, too: someone drops their bachi on stage and later a friend or
family member says “I didn’t see that!
When did you drop it?” It’s not always a bad thing when they miss
something, but it tells you that there’s truth to the advice given above.
On the other hand, sometimes the
audience picks up what no one else caught or thinks about. We’ve been asked questions about the position
of our knot in our obi, certain drum angles, ethnicity and gender ratios, and other questions
that would be very hard to predict. When
we started using a different manufacture of taiko, several people noticed the
change in sound as well.
Let’s face it – often we are the
audience, watching a performance. We think we’re
catching it all but who really knows?
Ever have a friend (or a crowd of people) react in awe to something and you having to ask
“what? What happened?” It happens to us all.
Sometimes what
you plan in your head for a soloing move may not be seen by the audience, even
if they’re looking right at you.
Both subtle things and fancy things can easily
get lost no matter how much you’ve worked on something, no matter how cool you
think it is.
What the audience does tend to notice
is confidence. Confidence “sells”. The most practiced, the most comfortable
players have that kind of confidence, EVEN IF THEY’RE NOT THE MOST
SKILLED. I can’t stress that
enough! A simple pattern, delivered with
repetition by a confident player, will have more impact on the audience than
anything fancy or done with a frantic look.
That’s not to say they won’t get bored after 30 seconds of a confident don don don
don don don don… Is an audience’s
ability to hone in on confidence easily a good thing? Does it mean they're "smarter" because of that ability or "dumber" because they're drawn to it?
To sum up? The audience is dumber than you expect, but smarter than you
realize.
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