Concert Etiquette in the Face of Advanced Technology

I went to see a James Galway/Emerson String Quartet concert with my mother two weekends ago. During intermission, we discussed what we often discuss—potential vacations. Ever since my mother first went to the Caribbean when I was in middle school, she has been on a travel kick that has only gotten better with age (because with age, I am old enough to be amazing company and get to join her).

The talk this particular evening focused on Mexico and when my work schedule would allow a luxurious stay. Becoming excited, my mom used her phone to check out the timeshare website and see what weeks are available for next fall or winter. Of course, websites don’t work all that well on the phone and it took longer than intermission.

When the concert started back up, my mother stayed on her phone, trying to find open dates. I was offended, and felt that she should pay attention because I had gotten her the tickets as her Christmas present, and while I know thinking about Mexico is more exciting, let’s focus on what we are actually doing for once instead of keep planning, planning, planning. But aside from the issue of enjoying your present plans, I wanted her to enjoy the music.

Why? And is it rude to text or consult your phone while at a concert? One’s immediate response is, “Yes, it’s rude.” But how rude is it really.

The concert hall itself is not dark enough that the light from the phone would disrupt anyone. The phone makes no noise. In fact, it is much quieter than reading a program during the concert, which is completely acceptable. Texts and translations are printed so that audiences can follow along while a performer sings. Reading a program is more disruptive than reading a phone, so what is the problem with the phone?

One would say that the phone reader is not engaged in the performance. True, but is the program reader any more so? Reading libretto is a distraction. Yes, you are able to follow what the words mean, but you are no longer listening to the actual words emitted from the singer. Do you hear the German lyrics while reading the translation? Do you pay attention to the nuances (in facial expressions, for examples) that are occurring on stage? While you gain insight into the meaning, you certainly miss out on what is actually being expressed by concentrating on the program.

Further, people read other parts of the program during the pieces, not only the texts and translations. I never thought that this was proper concert etiquette—one should read the program notes in advance. By reading in advance, you prepare yourself for what is to come and you distract no one—neither yourself with thoughts nor your fellow patrons with sounds of page-turning. However, I once took a survey about concert experiences. One of the questions asked, “When do you read the program notes?” and one of the answers was, “During the program.” While this is only one institution’s take on concert etiquette, it leads me to believe that reading the program during the music is not as unacceptable as I had believed it to be.

Finally, I confess I hardly ever pay complete attention to a piece, let along a whole concert. I saw the NHK Symphony Orchestra, again with my mother, this past Monday night. Kiri Te Kanawa, our reason for attending, sang Strauss’s Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs), and aside from a few notes that particularly impressed me, all I came away with after her performance was what her dress looked like. (It was a fancy dress. White with ornate black flowers under a dazzling white cape adorned with diamond-like jewels.) I was in my own head for almost the entire performance, which is not an unusual occurrence for me during concerts or other long non-interactive presentations, such as speeches or church services. Concerts, specifically classical concerts, challenge us to pay attention, but often we cannot live up to the challenge and they end up as a background for our thoughts. Even though my phone isn’t out, I may not be paying any more attention.