Have Modern Performances Become a Bit…Dull?
- Alex Ferkey
- Aug 8, 2024
- 3 min read
Classical music listeners now live in an era of abundance. The internet has enabled fans of every genre of music access to overwhelming amounts of high-quality recordings and performances via platforms like Spotify and YouTube. In 2024 the average Beethoven fan has access to dozens of interpretations of the Eroica Symphony all without having to leave their living room. Why then should anyone-especially the casual classical music fan-venture out of this convenience to a concert hall, where they can expect to pay 50 quid to try and navigate music’s most stringent concert etiquette while spending 10 pounds for a glass of wine?
For classical musicians, the answer seems obvious: to buy a concert ticket is to buy an experience. That 50 pound ticket allows the audience to experience the ambience and culture of a centuries-old music tradition, to watch as highly trained professionals create music from pages on a stand. Weaving symphonies out of silence. To be comes from not to be. The spontaneous creation of live performance.
But go see a classical music performance and it seldom seems quite so magical. High minded ideas about expressiveness and historical practice seem subservient to the avoidance of mistakes. Successful performances seem to be those that bear the most resemblance to a recording, and the average concert goer can expect to witness hypnotizing displays of instrumental technique containing all the emotional engagement of watching someone skillfully navigate a colouring book. It is not atypical to go see a professional orchestra and have one’s mind wander while the band faithfully executes a symphony. To sit with a passive appreciation of the skill involved that you tell yourself isn’t boredom, or that you just aren’t “educated” enough to appreciate the piece.
Think back to a truly meaningful performance in your life, regardless of genre. Remember that feeling of being transported seemingly to another world. Of being completely and utterly in the now, no longer quite yourself but one of many existing solely in that moment. The magic of live performance is that it allows us – player and listener alike- to leave aside our worries and regrets and exist purely in the present. Musicians will surely recognize this as the feeling of Flow. But in playing to avoid mistakes, we anchor ourselves firmly to the future. We enter the stage with a rigidly defined concept of what needs to happen and how we must be perceived afterward. We choose safe, sterile fingerings that can safely endure the pressures of performance. We avoid risky shifts in favour of those we know we can hit 99% of the time. The modern professional musician is impeccably in tune, flawless in execution, and dreadfully boring. We have become dull in our cowardice.
Take the highwire act or the thrill of a trapeze. It is engaging not in spite of the danger of falling, but because of it. To play completely in the present is to walk the knife’s edge between transcendence and catastrophe. It is to commit to the most engaging, musical fingerings and shifts in spite of the risk. It is to gamble making a fool of oneself in one moment in order to create something truly sublime in another. Any concert goer will readily admit that performance errors do not matter if they’re in service of a meaningful musical experience. They may not even notice them! To err is human, and it is that humanity that audiences connect with. But we have increasingly severed our connection and interactivity with the audience. We treat them as passive spectators. Heaven forbid any of them have the nerve to cough or clap at the wrong time. Think of the absurdity of the classical recitalist who walks on and off stage in between pieces, saying nothing to the audience. Even when they have ventured out, we have brought the experience of their living room to them! We have grown accustomed to asking our audiences to take a risk on our live performances; maybe it’s time for us to be a bit more courageous in what we offer them.
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