Why didn’t I think of that?

Was listening to an interview the other day. It was from ancient history but something caught my eardrob.

The speaker, Mister Robert Wyatt of the progressive musical as semblance called “Soft Machine”, was talking about their sets on stage.

“Why play a one hour concert and not three minute songs?

You do a number and stop and everyone loses attention but if you keeping going continuously they can’t lose attention until you are ready to stop anyway.

Where the group can tune up but the audience shuffles around and lites cigarettes and…”

“Ah Ha” moment!!!

For anyone who performs to an audience, one must understand that the public gets bored easily and given half a chance will wander.

Unlike a book where the reviews have been wonderful but into a couple of chapters you mind starts to glaze over but you plod forward trying to find that sweet spot that will reward your expectations.

Every orchestra can acknowledge that after intermission, half the audience has left the building.

The next time you go to a concert (or check out a YouTube video of your favorite live act) and see all the seemingly confusion between songs. Maybe everyone has to retune or switch instruments or get a drink or fix a plug or take a leak or whatever slows down the show, but it happens.

If there is a good front man (or woman) who can keep the interest focused while all this other humdrum is going on with folks in black all scurrying around the stage and terrible sounds coming out of the speakers in hopes that the delays will be as short as lines waiting for flights.

If you give an audience enough time they will order another drink, settle back into some discussion about why China wants to land on the dark side of the moon, or any other distraction because the music is NOT playing.

I have recordings to remind me of those awkward breaks that the audience had to endure.

The worst were the dance numbers. Get everyone hopping to the keen riffs and pounding beat then a speaker blows out and everything comes to a grinding halt. While repairs or adjustments are being made, the dancers wander off into the distance.

Sometimes a slow song will bring them back to the dance floor so they can hang their sweaty teenage bodies on each other or you might as well pack up.

It is good advice: Keep the show going, no matter what.

Things You Learn If You Pay Attention

There is some science out there realizing one who is described, as ‘artist’, is different from what was expected.

Whether it is mental health or just an extra chromosome, we are different.

While others sit and wonder why, we express ourselves. While others look on, we perform the history, dreams, good and bad of life, seemingly to understand the mystery.

Much of my life I don’t remember.

I can relate to certain dates and places but can’t remember who else was there or what we did.

Yet, I can remember the wallpaper design. The smell of oil ties a connection between living in the mountains and living at the beach. Flashes of images, either recorded in my mind or on paper, give glimpses of a past without sub-titles.

Can you look at a photo and remember the feel of the clothing.

Sensory overload happens when I walk into a room. A room I may have entered a dozen times, my senses gather the lights and shadows, the sounds and the smells, the feel of the room.

Overwhelmed with places to look and explore like opening a book and flipping through the pages. Not only do I see the photos hanging on the wall, but also I notice how they are hung, the placement, the order, the frames, and the mats. The subject of the photo or artwork and how it matches the wall color and the surrounding adornments is more than interior design, but personal taste.

Museums are a difficult traverse. Though designed to be unobtrusive to the artwork, the pedestals, cameras, lighting, sounds of the footsteps and the whispered breathing of participants in this cathedral of artistic presentation become the experience.

There is probably a psychological ‘ism’ for this absorption of awareness, but it is the artist curse.

Don’t lose it in the day-to-day boring rush to check and see if anyone sent you a text about some food they ate or how their baby pooped.

It is a gift.