Thanks, Nasty, I think it's a very challenging topic and one which merits some serious attention.
Theater-going mores differ from community to community, genre within national traditions (e.g., Gaveston has graced us with his extensive scholarship on the differences between noh and kabuki audiences), and over time - compare the rowdy Elizabethan audience to the generally staid Victorian one.
We might begin to ask ourselves if the way people once dressed and acted attending the American commercial theater might be on the verge of becoming passe - in some respects, the unofficial dress code, it no doubt became obsolete long ago. And what might be arguably lost and what arguably gained from the anticipated changes. A socially relativistic perspective can't be dismissed.
On the other hand, neither should an interest in not being unduly distracted when one attends the theater be dismissed as an insignificant concern. In addition to what are considered inappropriate or inorthodox audience verbalizations, we've also seen very strong opinions on bww on topics ranging from sippy cups to entrance applause to kickline applause to cellphones - and some of these arguable distractions, not unreasonably complained of, such as entrance applause, are traditional practices in the American commercial theater.
What irks me is impolite and dehumanizing commentary directed at particular theater-going communities, be they defined ethnically, sexually, etc. It's one thing to call attention to particular behavior and identify it as coming from a particular community. In fact it's interesting, worthy of discussion, and shouldn't be repressed.
It's another for it to be ugly and or mean-spirited. Complaints such as mine can easily be offset as cliche or knee-jerk "p.c." rhetoric. But they are simply a call for common courtesy, empathy, intelligence, and humility; as well as an expression of distaste when confronted with hatefulness, arrogance and or hubris.
It is not my intention to repress or censor (not that I presume to have that kind of authority) this ugliness but merely to call it what it is when I encounter it.
On another but related note, all this talk of the Streetcar audience got me thinking about my recent, and in some ways converse experience, attending Hurt Village. Because the play was presented in the round, I felt uncomfortable constantly being reminded that the audience was largely white, obviously well-heeled, mature, staid (not to imply the work was not generally well received by a great many attending fitting this profile, perhaps the majority of whom seemed to appreciate Hall's play), who seemed to be encountering a complete other world. I'd be lying if I didn't feel a measure of additional discomfiture watching this play because my view of the action included an audience that mirrored myself, and reinforced the racial American divide.
The reserved quality of the Hurt Village audience, the all but complete demographic contrast of the audience to the company, and, more to the point, my awareness of others in the audience (resulting from the in-the-round presentation) became, similar to the experience being described in threads about Streetcar and Evita, a part of the experience of seeing the play to a far greater extent than what communal audience energy usually imparts to the theater-goer.
Updated On: 4/4/12 at 02:45 PM