Recognizing Quality

I had a very interesting conversation this afternoon, about discerning “quality” in a performance.  I was in the studio, and was playing a CD of Joshua Bell performing Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major.  Bruce Paulsen popped his head in, and we got to talking about the thrill of a great performance – Joshua Bell, Itzhak Perlman, actors like Ian McKellan, and so on.

You might remember a few years ago, Bell played at a Metro subway station in Washington DC (links here and here).  It was an interesting study in human nature.  Any of the hundreds of people passing by him would likely have given him an enthusiastic standing ovation in a concert hall.  This incredible musician, playing with breathtaking beauty, was well deserving of everyone’s attention, even if he wasn’t recognized.  Yet, in that setting, he was all but ignored.  Is applause only reserved for the concert hall?

Which brings me to a real pet peeve.  I know I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again:  I get so frustrated when I go to a concert or a play, and the moment the piece is done, someone in the audience immediately leaps to their feet, clapping like there’s no tomorrow and screaming “Bravo” so they can be heard.  Yes, there are some performances worthy of that enthusiasm.  But not every single one!  In all honesty, I cannot remember the last concert I attended that did not include a standing ovation.

Nor is this a new phenomenon.  We saw “Cats” during its first tour in 1982, and after the performance of the song “Memory,” half of the audience jumped to their feet.  Frankly, that was not the piece I would consider the show-stopper.  The dancer who absolutely conquered the stage during “Mr. Mistoffelees” was clearly the one who delivered a genuinely show-stopping performance.  But Barbara Streisand had been all over the radio singing “Memory” by then, so that’s what the audience thought they were supposed to latch onto.

Auto-tuned pop singers put on glitzy performances and the audience goes nuts.  But take away the software, and hand them an ordinary mic on a bare stage, and most of the time you’ll be disappointed.  Watch “Dancing with the Stars” and you’ll see people, often with no musical sense and little coordination, tromping around the dance floor for 10 weeks being called “dancers.”  I dare you to watch DWTS side-by-side with a real ballroom competition, one where the dancers have been working at their craft since they were children, and realize where the true mastery lies.

I was fortunate to grow up near Philadelphia.  It seemed like every week we were back in town for another play, another show, another concert.  And when you have the incredible quality and variety that comes from an arts hub like Philly, (or New York, or Chicago, or the like), you have the opportunity to learn that there is a difference between “good” and “really good” and “incredible” and “holy moly, I just saw the performance of a lifetime!”

Therein lies my frustration.  There is nothing disappointing about a “really good” performance.  “Really good” is entertaining, enjoyable, and well worth the price of admission.  But “really good” in my book doesn’t merit a standing ovation.  And what happens when you are fortunate enough to attend an absolutely outstanding performance, worthy of cheers?  Well, the response ends up looking just the same as any other performance, because nowadays pretty much everyone gets a standing ovation.  In the end, rather than elevating a good performance with the (now de rigueur) standing ovation, I think we are actually diminishing the value of an outstanding one.

Part of recognizing quality is looking for it.  It’s OK if a performance didn’t particularly move you.  If you did enjoy the performance, applaud enthusiastically.  You’re not required to be on your feet in order to show the performers your appreciation.

The other part of recognizing quality is letting yourself be open to the possibilities.  Set aside all your pre-conceptions, and take in each performance with a clean slate.  You may find a new appreciation for something unexpected, or realize that, while the piece is incredible, the performance may fall short.

And the next time you see a performer on the street, take a moment to listen.  You may be surprised at the talent they bring to their performance.  Or you may hear Joshua Bell on your commute.