A week or two ago, we talked about some of the basics of theater etiquette: arrive on time, put away the phone, don't talk during the performance, remember that there are people sitting behind you, and please, for reasons I still cannot believe require explanation, keep your shoes on. But there are other pieces of theater etiquette that aren't quite so obvious. In fact, calling them "etiquette" might make them sound more formal than they really are. They're mostly little customs regular theatergoers pick up along the way. But if nobody has ever told you about them, how would you know? So consider this Theater Etiquette, Part 2: The Things Nobody Tells You.
If you need to leave, timing matters.
Sometimes you have to get up during a performance. Nature
calls. A coughing fit starts. Some emergency crops up. It happens. If you can
comfortably wait for a natural break in the action, that's usually the best
time to slip out. If you can't, quietly make your exit. Coming back in can be a little more
complicated.
Opening the auditorium door or walking back to your seat
during the show can be incredibly distracting to both the actors and the
audience. Actors may also be unexpectedly using the aisles or entrances. So
please follow the direction of the Front of House staff or House Manager. They
may postpone your reentry for a few minutes until there's an appropriate moment
to return to your seat, often during a scene change or applause break. They're
not trying to punish you or keep you from seeing the show. They're trying to
get you back to your seat with the least amount of disruption possible and keep
you from inadvertently becoming part of the show yourself.
You don't have to know when to clap.
People who don't attend theater often tend to worry about
this one: "When am I supposed to applaud?" The answer? Whenever it
feels right! In a musical, audiences frequently applaud after songs. In other
productions, applause may come after a scene or a particularly wonderful
moment. Sometimes an audience is so caught up in what's happening that nobody
makes a sound. Laugh when something is funny. Gasp when something surprises
you. Applaud when you're moved to applaud. You don't have to know some secret
theater code. Live theater is meant to have a live audience. We love knowing
you're out there, and genuinely reacting to the story unfolding onstage is one
of the best ways to show it.
A standing ovation isn't mandatory.
Sometimes a performance brings an audience immediately to
its feet. Sometimes a few people stand and others remain seated. Sometimes
everyone stays seated and applauds enthusiastically. All of those are perfectly
okay. A standing ovation has traditionally been one of an audience's highest
expressions of appreciation: the theatrical equivalent of saying, That was
extraordinary. That's part of what makes receiving one so meaningful to
performers. When an entire audience rises to its feet, it can be an incredibly
powerful moment for the people standing onstage. And that's also why you
shouldn't feel obligated to stand simply because the person next to you did. A
standing ovation is supposed to be an expression of genuine enthusiasm, not the
final required activity of the evening. If a performance makes you want to leap
to your feet, by all means, stand! If you loved the show and want to remain
comfortably seated while applauding enthusiastically, do that. Save the
standing O for the moments that make you want to stand. That's what
makes it such an extraordinary compliment when it happens.
Curtain call is still part of the show.
We know you want to beat the crowd to the parking lot. But
unless you genuinely need to leave, stay through the curtain call. Those bows
are the performers' opportunity to step out of the characters they've inhabited
for the last couple of hours and acknowledge the audience. They're also often
the audience's only opportunity to recognize the entire company, including
ensemble members whose work may not have received an individual moment during
the performance. And in community theater, those bows can mean a great deal.
Applause is quite literally the only payment most of those actors will receive.
That person taking a bow may be performing in their very
first show. They may have spent six weeks rehearsing after working all day.
Their family may be seeing them onstage for the first time. They may have spent
the entire production moving scenery in the dark, changing costumes at
lightning speed, or singing harmonies you barely noticed but absolutely would
have noticed if they weren't there. Give them those last couple of minutes. Besides,
nobody wants to be the person who starts the mass exodus. The parking lot will
still be there in three minutes. Curtain call won't. And yes, actors can be
fragile creatures. Sometimes they need that Sally Field moment: You like me!
You really like me!
Intermission is for talking!
After all this discussion about being quiet, here's the good
news: at intermission, talk to your heart's content. Talk about what you loved.
Ask your companions what they think. Debate what might happen next. Explain
something that confused your child. Go find someone you know and tell them
you're having a great time. Just be careful about spoilers. If you've seen the
show before or know the story, remember that the person standing beside you at
concessions may not. Nobody wants to hear, "Just wait until you find out
the butler did it!" while buying a cookie.
Please don't call out to someone you know onstage.
This is one of those uniquely community-theater temptations.
You know that person! It's your coworker! Your neighbor! Your kid's teacher!
Your best friend! And suddenly there they are, walking onto the stage. Resist
the urge to yell their name or wave at them. The fact that you know the actor
is wonderful. Cheer loudly for them at curtain call. Tell them afterward how
much you enjoyed seeing them. But while the performance is happening, they're
trying very hard not to be your coworker, neighbor, teacher, or friend. They
have spent weeks learning lines, rehearsing, developing a character, and
working toward this moment. For the next two hours, let them be somebody else. This
is particularly important during youth productions. It can be incredibly
tempting to wave at a child you know or try to get them to acknowledge you from
the stage. But they've worked hard to learn the same skills we're asking of our
adult actors, including staying focused and remaining in character. Don't
undermine all that hard work by distracting them or encouraging them to break
character. They know you're there. You can make a HUGE fuss over them
afterward.
Close enough to touch doesn't mean interactive.
Actors sometimes enter through the audience, perform in
aisles, or end up very close to patrons. Unless the production makes it clear
that audience interaction is invited, continue watching just as you would if
the actor were onstage. Don't grab them, talk to them, hand them something, or
try to make them break character. They're close to you because that's where the
staging put them, not necessarily because they've invited you into the scene.
Backstage is still backstage.
After the show, you may be excited to congratulate someone
you know in the cast. Please don't go looking for them backstage unless you've
specifically been invited. Immediately after a performance, backstage can be
surprisingly busy. Actors are changing clothes and removing microphones. Props
and costumes are being put away. Crew members may be resetting things for the
next performance. And sometimes actors simply need a few minutes to come down
from the experience before greeting people. But there's another reason
backstage access matters: it is shared space.
The dressing room doesn't belong only to the person you came
to see. It may be shared by ten, twenty, or thirty other performers who are
changing clothes, fixing costumes, gathering their belongings, talking through
something that happened during the performance, or simply decompressing. Bill
may be delighted to see Aunt Mary backstage. That doesn't mean the other
fifteen people changing clothes in the same room are delighted to see Aunt
Mary. Backstage and dressing rooms are both working spaces and personal spaces.
That's why "Cast and Crew Only" signs really do mean Cast and Crew
Only.
If performers are coming out to greet the audience, give
them a little time. They'll find you. And when they do, you can tell them how
fabulous they were without accidentally meeting half the cast in their
underwear. Everybody wins.
Be aware of the space you're sharing.
Theater seats can be cozy, especially in older or smaller
venues. Try to keep coats, bags, and other belongings within your own space and
out of the aisles. You might even consider how much baggage you'll need to
"store" before you leave the house. Be mindful of armrests and the
people sitting beside you. And because many people are sharing a relatively
small room for a couple of hours, going easy on strong fragrances is a kindness
to people who may be sensitive to them. None of this requires perfection. It
just requires a little awareness of the people around you.
Most theater etiquette isn't really about theater.
That's probably the biggest secret. There isn't an elaborate
rulebook experienced theatergoers have memorized. Most theater etiquette comes
down to one simple idea: you're sharing a space and an experience with other
people. You're sharing the room with the audience around you. You're
sharing the story with the actors performing it. You're sharing the experience
with people who may have waited months to see this particular show. And unlike
a movie, every performance is temporary. Tonight's audience will never gather
in exactly the same way again. The actors will never give precisely the same
performance again. The laughs will land differently tomorrow. A quiet moment
may feel completely different with another audience. That's part of the magic. So
laugh. Applaud. React. Enjoy yourself. Talk about it at intermission. Tell the
actors afterward that you loved seeing them. And if you didn't love it? Maybe
wait until you're in the car. Because the lobby has ears. …but that's a
blog for another time.
