In my last year at Pomona, I’ve noticed that there are only two types of musical events on campus. Be it classical, jazz, rock’n’roll, "turntablism," bleeps-and-bloops electronics, or anything else, all events can be classified as one of two things: those events where the audience is involved and those events where the audience is not. In drawing this distinction, it’s important to remember that there are two kinds of participants in any live music: the audience and the performer. That in mind, when bored at a concert we can’t just blame lame-o Pomona students for not knowing how to dance, nor can we blame lame-o Pomona musicians for playing boring music. Rather, we need to examine the responsibilities of performer and audience in live music and then we can start to identify the problematic people.

Hopefully we can all recognize the importance of an interaction between the performer and the audience. Without this interaction, I’d just as soon stay at home and listen to my records (infinitely better than CD’s because of the increased interaction between the listener and the medium), on which there is no interaction between the audience and the performer. The purpose of live music is to overcome this shortcoming, or else there is no compelling reason to experience music in any way other than on recordings.

The primary participant in live music is the performer. If the performer doesn’t meet his or her responsibilities, then it’s impossible for the audience to begin to meet their responsibilities. The foremost responsibility of the performer is to do something that compels an audience to watch. A few semesters ago I went to a student recital of classical music. The performers all seemed to think that all they had to do was sit in a chair, play a song fairly well, and bow to an applause at the end. They could not have been more wrong. Aside from the performer being my friend, there is no reason that I will ever feel compelled to watch somebody sit very still while they drain all passion out of music in exchange for technical perfection, since I can hear technical perfection in my room. These performers were not doing anything to set live music apart from recorded music, so the concert was doomed from the start.

Once the performer has met his or her responsibility, the audience must respond in kind. How egocentric of an audience to think that they are there soley to be entertained! Live music is not like television: it cannot be passively viewed. The audience must engage the music and reply to it.

Three weeks ago, CCLA sponsored a tremendous evening of improvisational music. I was so frustrated to watch an audience sit on the ground, 50 feet between themselves and the band, and not show any attachment to Amps for Christ’s exploding wall of sound. Watching the band, one saw fireworks of noise. Watching the audience, one saw unmoving, even apathetic, students refuse to acknowledge the band. The audience should have responded by standing right next to the band and screaming right back at those feedback-soaked guitars; instead, the audience pretended not to notice the band.

Perhaps the problem is that audiences here don’t understand the benefits to be reaped by engaging the performer. First, it’s no small coincidence that the most fun I’ve ever had at concerts has been standing right next to the band while dancing so hard my socks fell down. Live music is better when you enjoy it. Second, performers perform better when there is a visibly appreciative audience, so the audience will have an even better performance to enjoy if they are engaging the music.

Of course, dancing next to the stage is not the only way to actively respond to the performer. This year’s Ussachevsky Festival concert of electronic music was one of the best live music experiences I’ve had at Pomona and nobody was even standing up. Still, though, the audience responded to the performances: toe-tapping, facial expressions of excited bewilderment, and an appropriately placed, "oh," or "yeah," is all it took for the audience to make itself known. Only in a situation such as this (where the audience is responding to a performer who is giving the audience a compelling reason to respond) can the performer then fulfill his or her second responsibility: to respond to the audience. Thus begins the endless cycle: the audience feeds off the performer who feeds off the audience who feeds off the performer.

If, as I have proposed, the audience and the performer have equal roles in live music, then the implication is that there must not be a wall between audience and performer. Forgive me for using a personal metaphor, but live music can be compared to the oral exams I just took. My experience was that the professors and myself asked questions of each other and spoke for equal amounts of time, making for a learning experience for all. One of my friends had a much less rewarding time, as she went in and was immediately grilled by the professors. In my situation, we were on equal terms; in her situation, they were on unequal terms. Look at live music in the same way: the audience should never stand with their arms crossed demanding to be entertained, nor should the performer feel like he or she cannot ask something of the audience. Audience and performer must see each other as participants in a mutually enjoyable experience.

Please, keep these ideas in mind the next time you’re at a concert. Whether you’re the performer or the audience, remember that the other doesn’t owe you anything except for in return for what you give them. Performers can’t complain about audiences who don’t move if they themselves don’t move. Audiences can’t complain about stale performers if they don’t reward excitement. Live music is something special and requires special engagement to make it worthwhile. Remember your responsibilities and everyone will have a better time.