No matter how good the show you are in, how confident you are in the product, every actor worries about audience reaction. Currently when I get my call to stage (30 minutes or so after curtain up) the first thing I do is look through a little peep hole at the audience to get an idea of the size of the house and shorty after I'll make enquiring hand signals to the other actors as to what tonight's crowd are like. Part of me knows it shouldn't matter -after all the show must go on even if they are throwing tinned fruit- but the truth is our evening on stage is heavily influenced by the audience's contribution. It is possible for a play to take off in spite of the audience but generally the experience on each side of the footlights is dependent on the other. When it works (and mostly it does) it can be electric: actors and audience committed, focused and all buzzing together around a great piece of drama.
But there are pitfalls to negotiate along the way...
But there are pitfalls to negotiate along the way...
For the actors there can be a tendency to interpret quiet in the audience as hostility "They hate it!" the actor may internally wail if lines that usually get a reaction don't (or perhaps more accurately "They hate me!"). When, for example, 'laugh lines' have been met with an unfamiliar stoic silence in the auditorium it's not unusual to see actors come off stage and give the audience a two fingered salute. I confess I have done the same myself.
There is an old adage that "you can't hear a smile" which is certainly worth remembering in these moments but in addition some audiences are simply listeners (you don't realise this until moments of tension and suspense when you are rewarded with a silence in which you could hear a pin drop into a bowl of syrup- although you generally have to earn those moments so they tend to be well into the play by which point a "sod you" attitude may have already been adopted).
The truth is we actors are vulnerable out there, but it's always worth trying to regard the audience as 'friendly until proven otherwise'. It's like coming across a group hoodies on the street, one's instinctive reaction is concern but statistically one probably needn't worry: It's more likely to be your twelve year old cousin Tarquin and his strange, malodorous but harmless chess club pals than someone on crack cocaine waiting to relieve you of your new iPhone. Repeat after me "Friendly until proven otherwise" (although there's no harm arranging the keys in your pocket into a makeshift knuckle-duster just in case) (so long as you recognise Tarquin before you go for the eyes)
There is an old adage that "you can't hear a smile" which is certainly worth remembering in these moments but in addition some audiences are simply listeners (you don't realise this until moments of tension and suspense when you are rewarded with a silence in which you could hear a pin drop into a bowl of syrup- although you generally have to earn those moments so they tend to be well into the play by which point a "sod you" attitude may have already been adopted).
The truth is we actors are vulnerable out there, but it's always worth trying to regard the audience as 'friendly until proven otherwise'. It's like coming across a group hoodies on the street, one's instinctive reaction is concern but statistically one probably needn't worry: It's more likely to be your twelve year old cousin Tarquin and his strange, malodorous but harmless chess club pals than someone on crack cocaine waiting to relieve you of your new iPhone. Repeat after me "Friendly until proven otherwise" (although there's no harm arranging the keys in your pocket into a makeshift knuckle-duster just in case) (so long as you recognise Tarquin before you go for the eyes)
I believe the secret for the audience is that it's a bit like dinner at Waggamamma: You need to approach it with a generous spirit, then when another diner gets sat next to you, you chat and enjoy something together- it may turn out they were your godmother's first lover or a fellow Coventry supporter or they beat you in an eBay auction for an occasional table. To put it simply the experience becomes more than the sum of its parts. If you sit down without a generous spirit and others share your table it's just someone who can listen in on your conversation, limit your elbow room and hog the soy sauce.
In a theatre where I've worked a lot, Saturday night audiences always seemed to be the hardest to please. Mid week audiences would come with a 'happy-go-lucky' attitude as though they were just pleased to be having a cheeky evening out on a school night, Friday night audiences were excited and committed to having fun whatever you put in front of them, but the Saturday night crowd would always take ages to defrost as though wary we might be wasting the jewel in their weekend crown. Don't guard enjoyment like a gaoler, be a mid-week audience and take fun where you find it.
So as you near the theatre release the angst of your day, lift your eyes, open your heart and look forward to a couple of hours of pleasure- and we in turn will presume you are benevolent estranged family or friends we just haven't yet met.
That way on the night when you're in and in the wings I look to Ashley Cook with inquiring eyes he will raise both thumbs, smile and mouth "They're really lovely"
See you on the green!
