Live performances are always interesting.  Audience members don’t always let on to whether they like what they’re hearing, especially when you’re playing in what they might consider “they’re space” like a favorite café or a place of worship. 

While performing for such venues I’ll sometimes entertain myself by conducting informal anthropological studies of the audience members with some rather interesting and poignant findings.

The most difficult audience members to read are the 15 to 45 year olds. They don’t readily acknowledge the activity that’s going on. They’ll sit nearest the stage but are seemingly undeterred, even unaware that there is anything out of the ordinary taking place. They’re likely to engage someone in conversation, sometimes speaking at a volume that is audible to everyone in the room. In some cases, they’ll resort to the other extreme by sitting near the performance area and opening a book or turning on their laptop.  They’ll make no attempt at eye contact or ever acknowledge the musicians directly. The only indication that they’re actively listening becomes apparent when they stop talking. If they’re reading, they don’t advance beyond the immediate page. If they have a laptop, they’ll stare at their monitor until their screen saver pops up.  

Children are the easiest and most enjoyable to observe. They’ll remain fully engaged and let everything around them disappear. Their sense of site and sound are acutely heightened. They’re eyes and smiles can sometimes barely contain their enthusiasm. They’re often moved to spontaneous dancing. Still others may be so overwhelmed that they become incapacitated - incapable of doing anything but sitting motionless and staring with awe. Occasionally, they may look at an accompanying adult for reference as to the appropriate response.

The elder audience members are perhaps the most intriguing to me. They sit a short distance from the stage, their chairs turned forward as if to capture the sound directly instead of from the peripheral acoustics of the room. Most make direct eye contact with the performers, as if participating in the musical discourse. But often, I observe them bowing or turning their heads, eyes closed, as if tuning to the frequency of a memory long since forgotten for a moment of brief enjoyment..  I see the shape of their lips caressing the words as if reciting a prayer. And afterwards, when the air is once again made still I am assured of our musical communion.

Attending a live music event is not only an opportunity for you to hear great music - you get to feel great music. It’s an opportunity for all of us to step outside our everyday existence and tune into our visceral senses.

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