COLUMN: Rehearsing proper concert clapping etiquette
Many of you are oblivious to proper concert etiquette when it comes to applauding during a classical concert. You clap in the wrong places. You may not know this, but I do. Musicians abhor audience members who clap flippantly between the movements. We glare at the offenders of the silence with exuberant malice.
None of you have ill intentions by clapping. I know that applause generally signifies appreciation and that none of you are intentionally trying to tick the conductor off. You genuinely enjoy the music, so you outwardly want to show the performers that you care by wildly slapping your palms together and producing startling waves of percussive sound. But it is part of the secret musician’s code to be nonsensically vexed about disobedience to the set standard of non-clappance at the correct times. We delight in snarking at your ignorance. We’ve been adhering to this madness since Mahler. We believe that applause, at the wrong times, is an abysmal disruption to the mood of the music.
Let me teach you when to clap, so that you can reduce your chances of offending your friendly neighborhood musicians. The concept, contrary to popular belief, is not too difficult to grasp. You are supposed to clap when the work is completed. That’s all you need to know, really. Some works, like quartets and symphonies, are multi-movemented works. These movements can be compared to the chapters in a novel. You don’t need to clap after each chapter, just after the last page. Though if you clap for an author after you finish a book, you might want to get your brain checked. It’s like those irritating people that clap after they watch a movie. Sheesh. What’s the point?
Sometimes a work will have an absurd amount of through-composed movements that you will fail to keep track of, which may cause some disconcerting confusion and make you antsy about putting your hands together. Don’t have a cow. A good rule to fall back on is to wait for the conductor to turn around and face you, or for the instrumentalists to put down their instruments and smile brightly as they don’t turn any more pages. Then feel free to clap.
Disclaimer: Do not try to apply this rule to opera or jazz combos.
In opera, you can clap after any aria or scene change that inspires you to do so. I sometimes make a game of it by clapping at an unorthodox spot and seeing how many people join me. People who attend operas are sheep. Generally the whole auditorium will follow my lead, making me rejoice inwardly.
In jazz combos, you are free to clap whenever the hoot you want. Right in the middle of a trippy sax solo, if you want. If you feel moved by the snazzy rhythms, you can dash inhibitions and join the fun with some scat. There is a downside to this, though. Sometimes you can’t hear the music over the clapping, and you miss out on a golden improvisatory moment.
It is my personal, uncensored opinion that it is a shame for people to reign in their applause during a traditional classical concert. What if the moment is grand? What if a violist streams up and down the fingerboard with intrepid fury and pure awesomeness? What if a violinist shifts into a shrieking high note, spot on? What if a French hornist hits all the correct partials without a single hint of an adolescent-sounding break? Wahoo!
I oft contemplate the idea of making a musical performance more like a sporting event, with cheering crowds and concessions and commentators. That would be rad. Forget baseball, America’s new pastime would be concert attendance. Ushers could throw free T-shirts at select audience members, my violin coach could flash secret hand signs at me to signal my next piece, and, get this, during intermissions we could have rip-roaring halftime shows.
Sigh. If only, if only.
Yours truly is giving a violin recital March 17, at 6 p.m. in the Tippetts Art Gallery Balcony, and by golly, if you want to come and you want to clap, go ahead and do so. Whenever you feel the urge. I won’t mind. In fact, I’ll love it. Let’s shock the classical world as we know it.
Melissa Condie is a junior majoring in music education. Comments can be sent to m.condie@aggiemail.usu.edu.