One of the most interesting aspects of the TV program America’s Got Talent is that the acts are judged not only for their artistic quality, but for showmanship as well. After all, they’re trying out for a million dollar prize and the chance to play in Las Vegas. On America’s Got Talent, you can be the most gifted virtuoso in the world, but if your act doesn’t hold the audience’s interest, you’re going to get “buzzed.” The sizzle is as important as the steak, and sometimes it’s hard to tell where one leaves off and the other begins.
This emphasis on showmanship and visual elements, so common in the world of pop entertainment, is in stark contrast to the performance practices of symphony orchestras and other classical music organizations. Although we strive to serve up a marvelous cut of meat, we are largely devoid of “sizzle” – much of the time by conscious choice. The art form should stand on its own, we say. We don’t want to do anything to distract from it. What you hear is what you get. Classical musicians are arguably the most thoroughly trained and technically virtuosic instrumentalists in the world -- but very little of that training dwells on showmanship or stage presence.
The appearance of the orchestra is the same wherever you go, at every concert, every orchestra, in every city – and it hasn’t changed much since the ensemble was invented in the early 19th century. The musicians, dressed in black formalwear, perform sitting, torsos straight, faces expressionless, eyes on the music in front of them. At the end, when the crowd gives the obligatory standing ovation, the players usually stand facing the podium, mostly unsmiling and making little or no eye contact with the audience.
(Of course, there is the European custom -- observed by the TSO, as a matter of fact -- of turning to face the audience. And our musicians do frequently crack a smile. We try to be more approachable here in Tacoma, reflecting the relative lack of formality in our home town. )
Traditions are a little better in the soloist world, where overtly quirky stage personas began to appear about 25 years ago. An early pioneer was then-controversial violinist Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg, who was criticized for her onstage histrionics and gyrations. Violinist Nigel Kennedy, arriving on the scene about the same time, attracted as much attention for his punk rocker attire as for his virtuosic playing. Awadagin Pratt came soon afterwards with his dreadlocks and lamp table in place of a piano bench. Today we have hot young rock star pianists like Lang Lang, and Yuja Wang, whose miniskirted appearance caused a sensation earlier this month at the Hollywood Bowl.
Still, an occasional surplus of skin or a funny haircut are a far cry from the assaulting visuals in popular entertainment. Acts that start out visually benign on America’s Got Talent – a guitar-strumming singer, a stunt yo-yo nerd, and the like – get tarted up with scantily clad dancing women and laser light shows by their second audition. The producers know what the orchestra world apparently doesn’t – that today’s audience needs continuous visual stimulation to hold its attention.
It may sound as if I’m being critical of the orchestra industry, but I’m really just trying to draw a picture of the stark contrast between the experience we provide and what audiences are used to throughout the popular entertainment world. 20 years ago it was just younger audiences – but it’s rapidly becoming all audiences. It’s a picture we better pay attention to in any serious discussion about how to bring new patrons in to our concerts.
A few orchestras, including the TSO, have started to experiment with occasional visual elements. For example, we have added modest use of colored lights and the occasional patterned gobo during our season opening concerts, which intentionally blur the lines between the Classics and the Pops series. When we perform at Puyallup Fair the concert always features closed-circuit video screens on either side of the stage, which project close-ups of the orchestra. And we’ve occasionally projected images on the back of the stage in the Pantages, like the Superman graphics several years ago during Michael Daugherty’s Oh Lois.
Many other orchestras are experimenting in like manner. A few years ago there was a package making the national rounds that paired Holst’s The Planets with digitized scenes from Mars and Venus. Photographer James Westwater has made a career by promoting his “video choreography” of images timed to go with specific symphonies. One orchestra, the former Irving Symphony in Texas, has actually rebranded itself as Enviso, “symphony you can see.” Every Enviso concert features visual elements, from video screens to light shows, dancers and acrobats.
I must confess to mixed emotions about all this. As an executive director, it’s my job to explore different presentation styles and work with the music director to suggest new things that might bring new people into the hall. For myself as a concertgoer, I tend to find things like video projections distracting and unnecessary. And while I’m filled with admiration for the courage and creativity of trailblazers like Enviso, I'm not advocating a similar rebranding for the TSO. Frankly, I wonder about the shelf-life of such presentations once the novelty wears off.
But I do think it’s important for us in the orchestra industry to give a little more thought to how we present ourselves visually. We live in an age where people have a high need for visual as well as aural stimulation, and if we don’t even try to meet those needs we’ll have only ourselves to blame if they pass us by.
Maybe the steak and the sizzle will remain distinct in classical music. Maybe the music needs to remain the “meat” of our offering. But just maybe we can devote a bit more attention to the sizzle – and to the flavor and spice it adds.