By Rikki Lee Travolta
I have had the unique perspective of looking at theatre from a variety of vantages. And the view is different for each.
How I view theatre from the perspective of someone who loves to perform is a bit different from the perspective of someone who loves a nice payday. It’s also different from my perspective as a director, a producer, a publicist, or a theatre critic.
I’ve voiced opinions on these things from time to time. The journalist in me tries to interweave as many facts as possible. I also try to open the floor to other points of view.
Recently I wrote on the subject of the importance of starting a show on time (When Should the Curtain Rise?). The article inspired a great deal of dialogue.
Interestingly, there seemed to be almost a level of anger at stage managers who don’t call for the curtain to rise on time. Believe me, I know the frustrations of sitting in the audience well past curtain time with people still filtering into the theatre. Similarly, I know the frustration as a performer of being in the wings waiting for the curtain to rise well after it should have – again because the audience isn’t in their seats. But is this the fault of the stage manager, or even the house manager for that matter?
Just like children should at some point learn that they have to follow the rules of society, I think there needs to be a level of expected responsibility for patrons. While I’m all for the idea that the customer is always right, I also believe in what’s best for all over what’s best for the individual. If everyone else can be in their seat on time, then the stragglers either should be able to as well or should face a penalty for their delinquency.
Alas, I know that is a pipe dream. On Broadway, the shows start exactly on time. But that’s a strong union town and the house management staff has trained their audiences to understand that curtain time is curtain time, no ifs, ands, or buts. But what about the rest of the country?
The selfish part of me feels like if I’m in the audience or waiting to go on stage, the show should start exactly on time. That part of me wants desperately to advocate that stage managers start the show on time no matter what, the delinquent audience members be damned.
But I am multifaceted and understand the world does not revolve around me. From a business standpoint, it makes no sense to alienate audiences by suddenly invoking the use of a big hammer to make a point that the show is going to start on time no matter what.
Audiences are used to getting away with meandering into the theatre long after the house manager has started frantically flashing the lobby lights. To suddenly change would be a shock to the system. Tell ticket holders they are too late to enter the show because they were doddering after having gotten away with it for so long, and chances are they are going to be alienated and not come back.
Losing a customer is not the goal. The goal is to keep the customer but get them in their seat at the appropriate time. To do that, theatre companies in Chicago and around the country might have to work together and make a joint commitment to phasing in a firm commitment to starting on time.
By educating our patrons, we can move in that direction. But we also have to be realistic that there will always be those who feel the rules don’t apply to them. There will always be people who don’t think the show should start until they are personally ready to take their seat.
Theatre, like any business, is a balancing act. We solve the problems we can and put out the fires that we can. We don’t accept the unacceptable, but rather work towards developing solutions.
Perhaps you are a theatre producer, house manager, or stage manager and you’ve found success dealing with this issue. If so, I encourage you to share your learnings. When we share knowledge, it benefits us all.
I do think that we should have expectations of our patrons. The key for implementation might be to not make them demands on the audience, but a guide for a positive theatrical experience that includes the unfortunate but polite repercussions for failure to adhere – such as being relegated to standing room until intermission if you fail to take your seat on time.
It raises the question of if there should be an actual informal patron code of conduct. I think realistically, most theatre personnel tend to almost assume that audiences should know to adhere to simple guidelines like being in their seat on time. Perhaps, we need to stop assuming and start communicating.
You would think that turning the volume off one’s phone would be common sense etiquette when going to the theatre. Yet, we all do curtain speeches begging our patrons to do just this – because we as a theatrical community have to come to realize and accept that there are those who simply can’t adhere to this rule without repeated reminders.
The point of bringing that up is that there is a difference between how we would like things to be and how they are. And, maybe the solution to getting people in their seats on time may come in the form of changing how we communicate this need to the patrons. For it to matter to them, we have to make it important to them.
Society is filled with codes of conduct. There is a code of conduct on how to behave at school, for instance. There is also a code of conduct for how to behave in court. Truth be told, there are codes of conduct for many situations we will experience in our lives.
There is no reason there shouldn’t be a code of conduct for theatre patrons – the question is, how do we get the audiences to embrace it and what else should it include? In addition to being in one’s seat on time, what other expectations should a patron code of conduct include?
Turning off one’s cell phone; not talking during the performance; sharing arm rests with neighboring ticketholders; not fiddling with noisy candy wrappers; and picking up one’s trash are all things we might want from a considerate audience member. What else comes to mind?
Photos courtesy of Matheus Viana, Luis Quintero, Cottonbro Studio, Mat Brown
