The concert was great, so why do I feel like a failure?

Sometimes a performance is a blinder. There is a standing ovation and cries for more.

photo by svenwerk

And yet … it is possible to come away feeling that it’s all gone wrong. How is this possible?

Coming down after a big event – how to land softly

It’s the day after Christmas Day and, however well or badly it went, there can be a sense of a let-down.

photo by Inga Munsinger Cotton

After any big event like Christmas or an important choir concert, there needs to be a transition back to ‘normal’. This is not always easy! Here are some ideas of how to deal with the come down.

When audiences applaud – or not

This is an updated version of a post which first appeared as Thank you, thank you – you’re too, too kind! in September 2007

There are times when it’s not been appropriate for an audience to clap. Funerals and weddings are the obvious ones.

Audience by Linda Thomas

But not getting applause can throw singers. Maybe it means they don’t like us!

silence is not always golden

Once we did a concert in a church and the first song was met with silence. I guess people thought that since they were in church it wasn’t appropriate to clap. After all, we don’t applaud the church choir every Sunday.

I subtly mentioned to the audience that they were allowed to clap if they chose to, and from then on it was just like a normal concert.

Funerals and weddings tend not to involve clapping. However, at one wedding there was applause after we had finished our little set when the vicar thanked us for singing. Of course, at the funeral, it simply wasn’t fitting.

I was singing myself at the funeral in a trio. It was then that I realised how much I had become used to applause after each song. It was very, very strange to perform a song to complete silence and have no feedback whatsoever. It’s similar to performing outdoors in a public space when people just pass by and ignore you.

I’ve written before about how audiences’ reactions can affect us in How audiences behave and how we respond.

what are they clapping for any way?

Why do we need the applause? After all, it’s pretty much a convention. It’s quite rare that people don’t applaud at all. Sometimes it may be more enthusiastic or longer, but usually there’s some smattering. So it’s not as if we need approval since the audience will probably clap under most circumstances. Maybe it’s just for us to know that they’ve actually heard us, whether they’ve enjoyed it or not.

In many cultures the idea of a separation between audience and performers is an alien one. Everybody is a performer, and everyone is an audience at the same time. The ‘performers’ are not special in any way, they haven’t spent time rehearsing and polishing, they just perform – singing, dancing, whatever – because that’s what everybody does in that culture. So the notion of applause and appreciation is not relevant.

some times we don’t want the applause

Sometimes applause can be a little embarrassing. Many of our songs are very, very short so we can get through up to 30 songs in any one concert. On those occasions it feels like we’re expecting the audience to clap every few minutes (which they do), but it does feel a little like overkill.

Also, with a big choir (Woven Chords has around 80 members), it can be a little awkward when we make our first entrance. As the first few singers enter onto the stage there is enthusiastic applause which slowly but surely begins to die out as the audience realise that there are many, many more choir members to appear yet!

Another embarrassment is when an audience don’t realise a song has finished or think it’s all over when there’s another verse still to come.

 

Chris Rowbury's website: chrisrowbury.com

 

What kind of feedback do you want?

I’ve been talking quite a lot recently about feedback – from singers and choir leaders and from audiences. But not all feedback is equal.

Feedback can come in many forms: speech, writing, applause, by email, face to face, and so on. Sometimes one form is more useful than another.

But will you get the feedback you want? As Dr. Gregory House says in the TV series House: “Everybody lies”. Can you trust people’s responses? And are you even asking the right questions?

types of feedback

• spoken in the moment – this can be the best kind of feedback as it’s right there, in the moment. But it can be inappropriate for someone to interrupt the proceedings. It might be better to ask people to feedback at the end of what you’re doing so things don’t get too disrupted.
   
• spoken after the event – this can be audience members coming up to you in the bar after a concert, or a singer grabbing you at choir at the end of a session. If the gap between the event and the feedback is too long though, it might be harder to respond  properly.
   
• overheard conversations – this is the kind of feedback that is not intended for your ears, but might be most valuable because of that! Sometimes people find it hard to be honest to your face, so this might be a way of getting to the truth.
   
• second-hand reports – this amounts to gossip and should be taken with a pinch of salt. It’s always coloured by the feelings and motivation of the person relaying the feedback. However, it’s sometimes useful to have a ‘friend’ in the choir or audience who can feedback to you what people around them have been saying. This is similar to overheard conversations.
   
• written down at your request – you might have a comments book at the end of a workshop or a concert, or you might give out a questionnaire to your choir, or the teacher might hand out a feedback form. This can often be open, but sometimes contains specific questions for you to answer.
   
• unsolicited writing – if people feel strongly enough about something (they liked the concert a lot; they loved the workshop; they hate the way you deal with the altos), they might write to you without being asked. In this day and age it’s most often as an email. Try to keep these in perspective as they usually only represent one person’s view, and often come from the most outspoken, confident people as opposed to the silent majority.
   
• applause – the most common form of feedback at concerts and sometimes workshops (including whoops and hollers and stamping feet!). This makes everyone feel GREAT! It’s instant, clear and in the moment. You know that you’ve done well.
   
• getting it right – another instant form of feedback is when you’ve nailed a song or a tricky passage, either as singer or choir leader. You just know it’s gone well, but you’ll also usually be greeted with grins and smiles.
   
• other feedback – I’m sure I’ve missed some out. Do let me know if you have other examples of feedback.
   

which is the best kind?

You might have a personal preference for certain kinds of feedback.

Personally I’d much rather write to someone than face them if I have a criticism! I’m happy to receive feedback in any form, but as a teacher and choir leader, seeing people happy and enjoying themselves is the best. Frowns and sideways glances is the worst!

You may decide that certain kinds of feedback are better suited to particular circumstances. Asking questions while being taught a song might not be best. Better to leave it until the end. Comments forms are good at the end of workshops, but some people don’t like writing in public or have to rush off, so make sure you’re contactable by other means.

Not every kind of feedback suits everyone, so make sure there are always alternatives available.

Not all feedback is equal. Gossip is probably less accurate than face to face feedback. Although people don’t always tell the truth!

everybody lies!

A cynical view at best, but there is some truth in this.

Often people want to please you or give you the answer that they think you want. Other times people want to be polite and not tell you what they really think. So take all feedback with a little pinch of salt. Unless of course everybody is saying the same thing!

Other times people might not know what they want, or maybe think they want one thing, but really want another.

I give out questionnaires to my choir every couple of years or so. The main questions are about repertoire: what is your favourite song? which songs do you like singing the least?

I used to ask things like: what is your favourite thing in our weekly sessions? Can you think of any interesting challenges for the choir? Are there types of songs that we don’t do that you think should be included? Is the warm up too long?

I quickly discovered that there are as many answers as there are choir members! It is very rare to find consensus on any one thing. It made me realise that a choir is a group of people who all agree to sign up to one person’s vision: the choir leader. It’s rather like a benign dictatorship.

The other thing that I discovered is that people may say one thing, but actually think or feel another. Many times in the questionnaires people asked for more songs in English and more contemporary pop songs. So I included a few in our repertoire.

When the next questionnaire came round, it turned out that the most popular songs were always the foreign language ones, and the songs that were least liked were the pop songs!

asking the right question

To get the right feedback you need to ask the right question.

In Indian culture people often want to please. When I was travelling in India I would sometimes ask people if this was the right road to get where I wanted to go. They would always say “Yes!” because they wanted to please me. It was seldom the right road.

I soon learnt that the better question would be “Which road do I need to take?” and they would point out the correct road.

You might ask the choir if everything is OK when you see them frowning. They might answer “Yes” because the state of being lost and confused is normal, so everything IS OK. Might be better to ask “How can I make it easier for you to learn this tricky bit?”

You might ask the audience if they enjoyed the evening. They might say “Yes” and you think that means the concert was good. But maybe they didn’t like most of the songs, but they had a great time catching up with their friends an admiring the acoustics.

You might ask your choir leader if the second half of the song is the same as the first, and she says “Yes”. She means that the tune is the same, but you were asking about the lyrics and the harmony parts coming in.

to wrap it all up

We all need feedback. In our lives and in our work. But there are many different kinds, many appropriate contexts, and we can’t always believe what we hear.

Many actors say they don’t read their reviews because they get too affected by the bad ones. But they don’t read the good ones either. It’s all subjective and it’s all too easy to be swayed and have our inner negative thoughts or big ego awoken.

So take feedback lightly. Don’t focus on the one negative comment in your choir of 60 singers, but also don’t think you’re wonderful just because you get an encore at your next concert.

Keep it all in balance, but do keep trying to do it better and continue to ask for feedback. Otherwise you will become complacent.

feedback please!

What do you think of this post? Was it of interest? Do you disagree with anything? Do you have anything to add? Drop by and leave a comment. I’ll be very grateful!

 

Chris Rowbury's website: chrisrowbury.com

Thank you, thank you – you’re too, too kind!

There have been several times when performing that it’s not been appropriate for the audience to show their appreciation. Once was at a funeral, and most recently, at a wedding. There was also a time when we did a concert in a church and the first song was met with silence. I subtly mentioned to the audience that they were allowed to clap if they chose to and from then on it was just like a normal concert. I guess people thought that since they were in a church it wasn’t appropriate to clap!

To be fair, at the recent wedding there was applause after we had finished our little set when the vicar thanked us for singing. Of course, at the funeral, it simply wasn’t fitting. I was singing at the funeral and it was then that I realised how much I had become used to applause after each song. It was very, very strange to perform a song and have no feedback whatsoever. It can be similar when performing outdoors in a public space and people are just passing by.

Why do we need the applause? After all, it’s pretty much a convention. It’s quite rare that people don’t applaud at all. Sometimes it may be more enthusiastic or longer, but usually there’s some kind of smattering. So it’s not as if we need approval since the audience will probably clap under most circumstances. Maybe it’s just for us to know that they’ve actually heard us, whether they’ve enjoyed it or not.

In many cultures the idea of the separation between audience and performers is an alien one. Everybody is a performer, and everyone is an audience at the same time. The ‘performers’ are not special in any way, they haven’t spent time rehearsing and polishing, they just perform – singing, dancing, whatever – because that’s what everybody does in that culture. So the notion of applause and appreciation is not relevant.

Sometimes applause can be a little embarrassing. Many of our songs are very, very short so we can get through up to 30 songs in any one concert. On those occasions it feels like we’re expecting the audience to clap every few minutes (which they do), but it does feel a little like overkill. Also, with a big choir like Woven Chords which has around 80 members, it can be a little awkward when we make our first entrance. As the first few singers enter onto the stage there is enthusiastic applause which slowly but surely begins to die out as the audience realise that there are many, many more choir members to appear yet

go to Chris Rowbury's website

How audiences affect us

The Woven Chords Christmas concert was in our home town of Stamford last night. As is often the case, we were performing in a church, in this case a modern refurbishment of a beautiful old Methodist Church. There must have been almost 60 people in the choir so we took a while to get on stage. Usually people start clapping as soon as we enter, then it wanes a bit as they realise how many of us there are! But this time we entered to complete silence. There were around 120 people in the audience and you could have heard a pin drop.

Audience dynamics are a very strange thing. Sometimes it’s as if you’re performing to the living dead, and yet afterwards you might have loads of people coming up to you saying how wonderful the concert was. At other times the audience is far more animated and full of smiling faces, and yet there is hardly any feedback when the concert is over. But however the audience are feeling, the first few moments of a concert tend to set the feel for the rest of the night. The silence was deafening!

In the early days of WorldSong, we once played in a church and after the first song there was no applause at all. This was very unexpected and threw us a little. I realised that perhaps the audience weren’t used to seeing performances in churches, so without trying to fish for applause, I did point out that it was allowed, and from then on the concert went with a swing!

So last night I decided to make a joke of it and tiptoed from one side of the choir to the other asking in a loud stage whisper if the singers were OK. Gradually the audience began to laugh and warm to us, and when the final singer took their place, the whole audience applauded.

It was a great concert – one of our best – but a very unresponsive, sleepy audience. The trouble with new churches and refurbishments is that the heating can actually work for a change! Last night the heat was oppressive and there were plenty of red faces on stage. We had loud encore calls though, and the whole audience joined in with carols at the end.

I suppose with confidence and experience it is possible to not be affected by an audience’s response, but it still affects me after over 20 years as a performer. There I am up on stage trying my hardest and enjoying myself, but I only have to catch the eye of a seemingly disinterested or bored-looking audience member and all the doubts start creeping in: maybe they don’t like me; perhaps I’m not performing very well; it’s not their taste and there’s another hour and a half to go! etc. etc. Of course, as a choir leader I have my back to the audience most of the time, but I do try to get them on my side with a bit of banter between songs and it sometimes feels like I’m a stand-up comic who’s dying! Usually, of course, it is our own internal critics talking and the audience are actually having a great time.

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