Why not boo?

Say what you will about people, the fact is that they seem to become quite nice once you put them in a theater or concert hall. People will apparently applaud anything, and concerts routinely end in standing ovations. In fact, it's all become "routine." We applaud politely between songs when the singer is 30 minutes into her set, even though we've just applauded between the last 10 songs and that wasn't really her best song anyway... We even applaud in the concert hall for pieces we didn't like, because, well, because that's just what we do.

So when everything gets applause, then applause doesn't really signify anything. And when did we get to be so nice? What happened to the good old days, when a piece of new music could cause a riot? Stravinsky's Rite of Spring provoked angry yelling and even a couple of cases of fisticuffs in the audience. If classical concerts had that sort of flair today, you can bet orchestras wouldn't be struggling to fill their halls. No one likes to get booed off the stage, but I can tell you that some of the most bracing moments I've ever had in the concert hall are those where the audience was divided - and let the artists know it. The California post-minimalist composer Paul Dresher once presented his pocket opera "Slow Fire" at Avery Fischer Hall, in a 1986 series of new music events that must've been part of the season subscription series, because in addition to a number of "downtown" music types, there was a suspiciously large number of people who, by their age and dress, probably thought they were going to see the NY Phil or some similarly august body perform a "real opera." Instead, they got a one-man monodrama starring the redoubtable Rinde Eckert, with the composer on electric guitar and live loop/delay pedals and some sturdy rock drumming. Rinde plays Bob, who may be a professional hit man, or just a guy with a hyperactive imagination and borderline personality disorder. Either way, he is little more than the sum of his neuroses, and his journey through the night before a "job" is quietly thrilling and more than a little chilling. When it was over, I felt I had seen something worthy of a standing ovation. So I stood. And the well-dressed people in front of me stood too... to boo. Now that was thrilling.

I interviewed Dresher the next day, and asked him about the obviously mixed reaction of the audience, and he said that he was a little surprised at first, but then realized that it was actually great. "Polite applause at the end," he said, "would've been lethal."

The pioneering art historian Leo Steinberg once said, "Nothing requires more courage than to applaud the destruction of values we still cherish. If a work of art or new style disturbs you, it is probably good work. If you hate it, it is probably great." I'm sure we can all think of exceptions to this, but hey, if it disturbs you, or you hate it, let us know. Boo your brains out. That's like hoisting a banner saying "Yo! Check This Out! Really!"

Of course, it's a different matter if you're booing a performer who has disappointed you. You may love Puccini's Tosca, but if that evening's Scarpia just wasn't slimy and powerful and scary enough, you have a right to react the same way you would to a starting pitcher who gets shelled in the second inning: if you'd boo the latter for not doing his job in a professional manner - a job most people would kill for and for which he is unimaginably well paid - than by all means boo the former too. Or do what I do in both circumstances - give your hands a break. Don't applaud.

Tell us: what do you think about booing at a concert? Is it ever okay, or is it always rude?
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