What Do You Mean I Have to Put On a Show?

I have a wonderful DVD in my collection of a performance by the talented trumpet player Chris Botti. I admire Chris for many reasons; he is a near-flawless player with gorgeous tone and great technique. But what really blows me away is how he has developed an entertaining show where people actually sit down and really listen to instrumental arrangements from a wide variety of genres, including jazz. Oh yeah -- and he makes it appealing to watch. This “throwback” to the time when you could go out, have a drink, watch a show, and get some killer music has begun to stand out as an exception now that what passes for “entertainment” often fluctuates between two extremes: poor-quality online downloads or obnoxiously over-the-top dance spectacles billed as a “music concert.”.

So why do I bring all this up? The simple fact is that many performers, young and old, professional and amateur alike, tend to hold dear the notion that it’s about the music, man. They hang on to the idea that a performance should intellectually engage the audience, but reject the idea that it should also be emotionally engaging, which often means that it should entertain.

We spend hours upon hours perfecting our craft. We criticize ourselves endlessly for a missed note. Yet, we are confused as to why we do not draw a crowd to gigs that consist of tune after tune, no talking, and little, if any, audience interaction. There seems to be this prevalent idea that an audience will happily sit and be intellectually challenged nonstop for three hours at a go. There are a handful of folks who would submit themselves to that, but generally not enough to make a living off of. Consider this my plea to musicians out there to reconsider the art of the show.

But my music stands on it’s own!

This is the mantra of the musician who survives playing for food or tips in coffee shops. That may be a harsh statement, but think back to what truly inspired you to become a performer. I would bet that it was a show or performance that you saw as a young kid that sparked something in your brain and made you realize that you wanted to be like that person. A soloist marching in front of the band to perform on his/her own. A moment in a piece where the section played in perfect harmony and moved to the sway of the beat.

Seeing a true performer interact with other musicians, engage the audience with their presence, and, of course, dazzle with their music is an unforgettable experience. For some it comes down to smoke machines and laser shows. For others, it is a subtle glance at the person in the front row to show that you know they are there and that you appreciate them.

I remember being in the front row at my first Maynard Ferguson concert when I was 14. When his sound guy came out and plunked a mic two feet in front of me for Maynard’s solo, I totally lost it. That act of bringing me in the audience into the fold and allowing me to play a part in the show created an experience that not only causes me to remember that concert fondly, but it also made me more than anxious to go to more of his shows after that.

But it doesn’t feel natural to put something “manufactured” into my show. I like to make it up as I go along.

It’s true that some of the best performances are born out of spontaneity. Certain acts of spontaneity can use some assistance, though. It’s no crime to put a little bit of planning into it. Great examples of this are scheduling an audience member to solo to personally during your act. Throw in some nice stories about what a song is about or how and why it was written. Let your show tell a more in-depth story than the lyrics “Yeah, baby, I love you.” Tell the audience who that “baby” is, wether you are still together or not, use these moments to set a mood -- romantic, wistful, sad, energetic, comedic, you name it. Bring up a guest. Play a song you are working on or one that is not in your usual set list. Switch instruments. Sometimes it can be as simple as showing your positive reactions to the other musicians’ solos. The best presentation of these examples will be viewed as “spontaneous” even though they are very much planned. The idea is to pick things that will engage your audience emotionally and let them feel that they are connecting with you. This connection will lead to a much more positive response to your music.

The point is you are in control of the environment with these moments and if that helps you to come out to the audience with a more powerful performance then you should not be afraid to do it.

When is it too much?

Audiences are very smart. More so than we, the almighty performers, like to admit. That means if what you are doing is not sincere they will know. No one wants to put emotional energy into a phony. If it feels insincere to you then it will more likely than not come off as insincere to the audience. What to do? You rehearse your songs to get them perfect, give your show the same treatment. Try out your new ideas on small crowds. Throw a party for your friends to come out and hear a rehearsal some night and gauge how it is coming off. Play a small show or two before a major show to work out kinks. Find excuses to perform and to get comfortable with the ideas you have worked out. The more natural it comes out the better.

To wrap up

Your audience wants you to succeed. They would not show up if they did not. So show them that they didn’t pry themselves away from their comfy computers just for an intellectual exercise. We’re entertainers, after all. This is what we do.

John Dover
www.johndmusic.com
www.youtube.com/johndovertrumpet
www.myspace.com/johndovertrumpet
www.braingrenadeentertainment.com