Concert Experience Philharmonie Zuidnederlands' season closing concert
As I enter Theater aan het Vrijthof, the local fun fair's noises slowly fade away; a reminder of the building's careful design to prevent any disturbances to the performances taking place in the various halls. The thick red carpet muffles our steps as we ascend the stairs to the balcony of the Papyruszaal. After my father and I claim our seats, I pause and reflect on my interview with Gert Geluk on concert etiquette. Keeping in mind the common annoyances during classical concerts I turn off my cell phone and for good measure remove the battery from its case. I remind my father to turn off his phone as well, as we have been through some awkward moments in the past when his phone started ringing during the most inconvenient moments.
Sibelius' violin concerto is a pleasant surprise and I find myself truly enjoying the music which somehow reminded me of Gone with the Wind's score. From the corner of my eye I see a group of teenagers in the row in front of me shifting in their seats and recording parts of the concerto with their mobile phones and I find myself getting annoyed. Their constant movements, however slight, turn out to be a source of distraction preventing me to fully immerse in the music and the concert hall's atmosphere. Surprisingly, the silences between the different parts of the symphony are utilized as a coughing period, yet no one appears to be bothered by these disturbances. As the violin concerto comes to an end, the crowd breaks out into a tremendous applause and gradually people are raising from their seats to treat the musicians to a standing ovation; the moment of discharge. Taking Geluk's advice to heart, I copy the crowd's behaviour and rise from my seat to join in on the applause and ovation. As the applause slowly winds down I reclaim my seat, but to my dismay and embarrassment the audience proceeds clapping louder and louder and no one has sat down yet. When it becomes clear that an encore will be played, people quickly regain their seats and return to listening attentively.
The second standing ovation ends with the lights turning on signalling the intermission. During the break, the crowd moves to the bar on the ground floor and a chaotic battle for a glass of wine quickly unfolds. The concertgoers gradually seep into the hall decorated with modern art, ripped clothing, and either gossip about other guests or gush about the violin concerto. I'm still sipping my wine when an old fashioned clock starts to chime, heralding the end of the break and the crowd gradually moves back into the Papyruszaal.
Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony, presented by an orchestra composed of 109 musicians, erupts and in contrast to the concerto before the break, Shostakovich's symphony is rather loud and I find myself eying the exit. Unfortunately, the concert hall is cleverly designed to constrain concertgoers to their seats. Unlike a theatre or a cinema, the rows of seats are not far removed from one another, preventing my urges to shift in my seat in utter anxiety for this aggressive cacophony to be over as soon as possible. As I try to reposition myself in my seat my father's cell phone starts buzzing during a moment of silence in the symphony. The vibrating sound is even more piercing in the absence of the musicians' loud music and other concertgoers surrounding us are searching for the source of interruption as well. As I poke my father in hopes that he will turn off his phone, instead he decides to lecture me to stop shifting in my seat. Almost an hour, and two awkward moments of my father's phone buzzing, later the clapping and standing ovation ritual finally begins and I gratefully join in on the applause; I had survived my first classical concert and, in contrast to my father, hopefully had not caused any annoyances to other concertgoers.
My own experience of attending a classical concert combined with the literature and interview with Gert Geluk illustrate that in spite of the highly individualized notions of attentive listening a variety of relationships and activities contribute to the process of musicking in a concert hall. First, the building itself mediates the relationships involved in a classical concert. The design of the concert hall, for instance, with the close compression of the rows of seats, aids in the creation of a stagnated crowd. As Small notes, the highly specialized nature of concert buildings involve careful design decisions: "[Architects] know how people are supposed to behave there and will shape the building in ways that will encourage that behavior, at the same time closing off the possibility of behaviors of different kinds" (Small, 1998, p. 20). Second, while the reception of the music may take place on an individual level, the concertgoers are united as a crowd during the moment of discharge in a collective display of the appreciation of the performance. The applauding and standing ovation are evidence of the different relationships involved in the process of musicking in the concert hall as concertgoers are connected to one another during the moment of discharge which in turn can be perceived as positive feedback to the performers and conductors. Ultimately the overall concert experience depends on the adherence to concert etiquette, as divergences in behaviour are easily noticed and perceived as a disturbance of the musical experience. Moreover, the range of activities involved in the process of musicking entail more than the musical performance taking place on stage, the reception on an individual level and the ritual of applauding and standing ovations. During the break and after the concert, concertgoers group together in the bar and hallway to discuss the performances and overall atmosphere of the concert. Thus the combination of the location, relationships and activities contribute to the meaning and musicking experience of a concert hall visit.