Theatre audiences seem a lot more understanding about the vagaries of life, and the complexities of what goes in to making a show.
Recently, the opening up of small makeshift venues, have meant that the sight-lines or the comfort of seats is not at the same level as that of more conventional venues. Yet, what you lose in “fanciness” you make up in intimacy, and hence these venues are thriving. There is certain unpredictability about what is going to be on offer, which only heightens the charm of the experience. Audiences in these spaces are therefore generous, and will overlook a late start, the long queues for the restroom or even the limited stage lighting. But what about mid show interruptions?
While not a regular occurrence, there have been quite a few performances that have had either stuttering starts or interruptions mid-show. And in each the generosity of the audience was remarkable. No one got upset, no one demanded their money back, and in fact they almost willed the performers to continue.
During The Lover at Harkat Studio, a fuse (or phase) was blown, thereby plunging the performance into darkness. A short impromptu interval was called. And a few minutes later, we were informed that the rest of the performance was going to happen in a makeshift bulb. I would have thought that this would have taken away from the experience, and that the audience would be less engaged. Instead, the “no frills” nature of the performance, and the continuing with the show, created a uniting bond between actors and audience. I experienced something similar during an outdoor performance in Ahmedabad, when a downpour made us switch off most of the electrics.
However, the audience didn’t budge, so the performers continued. A few months later, an audience member told us that the uniqueness of the experience made it one of the most exhilarating moments of his life. Similarly, a couple of weeks ago, at a collection of short performances on gender issues, one performer completely blanked out mid monologue. There were a few nervy moments. But rather than booing her off stage, the audience rallied behind her, and tried to get her to find her way back. They even closed their eyes, so that she would not feel conscious as she tried to jump start her frozen brain. When she was finished, she received the warmest round of applause of the night. Live performance in urban India and particularly Bombay, has a certain celebratory nature to it. This is probably because an audience relationship to this is usually built around college festivals where you cheer your friends on, rather than “consume” what they are offering. This was evident at What The Butler Saw at Sophia’s. The play began a little nervously. The actor took her mark, but then was called off stage again, so that the director could make a welcome speech. I honestly thought I was in for a rocky evening of the worst kind of unprepared amateur theatre. However, because the audience supported the troupe on stage, the play ended up being high energy, slick and very enjoyable evening. It was a fine example of how an audience truly does make up half the performance. This was also the case at a performance of Confessions a few years ago at Prithvi, when the electricity failed, so the audience ‘lit’ the play with their mobile phones.
Big massive spectacles also have their malfunctions. Amir Raza Hussain’s two magnum opus’ Saare Jahan Se Achcha and Legend of Ram were both abandoned mid performance due to technical difficulties. And while it did create remarkable bad blood, given the expensive ticket prices, all was soon forgiven once the play resumed. In Spiderman: Turn of The Dark on Broadway, mid show interruptions had become such a feature of the previews, that audiences almost looked forward to it. People would wave to the Spidey as he hung suspended over the audience while they sorted out the technical glitch. It became part of the communion.
The expectation of cinema audiences is slightly different. There is a sense of entitlement and a much lower threshold if there is some technical difficulty. The purpose of the medium is to entertain us, while we sit back and watch it. By contrast, even the most commercial theatre enterprise requires us to commune with the performers on stage, and empathise and sympathise with them, whether as characters or actors. Perhaps that’s why live theatre will always survive.
Quasar Thakore Padamsee is a Bombay based theatre-holic. He works primarily as a theatre-director for arts management company QTP, who also manage the youth theatre movement Thespo.
