Uncultured Barbarians

 Balconies (Rings) of the 2586 seats of the David H Koch Theater

There is a stereotypical view from we of the old world, about the unmannered and uncouth nature of the people on this side of the pond. While by and large I tend to disagree with the sentiment, it might be grounded on some elements of truth. Yesterday we went to see Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake at the Lincoln Center, one of the most illustrious stages in the world for such a performance, next to the Julliard School, arguably in the most artistic city in the world. The architecture of the building is awe inspiring (Marion has more on this), the dancers were stunning, the choreography was, for the most part, breathtaking, the décor was impressive. And yet...

There seems to be a habit in NY to applaud at every dance sequence, be it a devilishly fast exchange between two dancers, an emotional solo by the main character, a farcical entrance by the court's jester and his 3 young apprentices. It feels as if, in an effort to be politically correct and acclaim each performer equally, the public should applaud every one of them as they finish their number. This does not only have the unfortunate consequence of eliciting a Brechtian Verfremdungseffekt at basically every scene, but it reminds me of the tradition of circus performances, where each number is greeted and saluted by the crowd. Making abstraction of the extremely irritating fact that we did not hear one single time the beginning of the main theme of the Swan Lake because it was drowned in furious clapping, this attitude completely breaks the atmosphere and the magic that the composer, choreographer, designer and dancers are all building together.

Spectators waiting before the Swan Lake dance performance

To this add the lady who, 20 minutes into the first act, shouts "IS THIS ROW N?" while looking for her place, which is answered by the whole of the public on the 4th Ring with a hissing and deafening "SSSSHHHHHHHHH". The lady, in a spirit that is very american and in any other circumstance would be appreciated as the reason why americans are such a tightly knit society, wanted to call for help to the entire community, instead of discreetly asking the person next to her, sottovoce, "Excuse me sir, is this row N?". While I cannot fault her entirely for the misguided desire of togetherness, I wonder if we should all be richer and be able to afford tickets on the Parterre, or if there as well we would find the upperclass equivalent of the same phenomenon.

I cannot fail to make a comparison with the Salle Blanche at the KKL in Luzern, where an episode of this type could never happen; where the audience would observe in rapt silence, with maybe a sudden exclamation or two in the moments of brilliant physical and artistic prowess (there were several yesterday), until the end of the act, and then congratulate the performers for a long while at the end of the spectacle (here the final applause lasted a mere couple of minutes).

Final applause and salute to the dancers

It is not that Americans are unable to create art and culture, yesterday's performance and its venue are proof that they do that better than anybody on the planet. But, to borrow a leaf from the saying about the capital of France, the only problem with american art performances seems to be the americans attending them.

When we got out, thunder and deluge greeted us once again. While we waited downstairs at the subway station, debating whether to brave the storm or wait for it to subside, several people ran toward us, to take shelter in the station. No one failed to smile, laugh, joke (!It is NOT dry out there!…") or somehow interact with us while they did. 

They might be unrefined brutes while in the theatre, but americans are a lovely bunch to be around the rest of the time!