I Can See Your House From Here - Archives
vol 2 number 19
{Last week, I touched a bit on the issue of a creator's responsibility to his or her audience. This week, the mirror gets turned around...}
The obvious relationship between creator and audience is not all that there is; remember, beauty may be only skin deep, but ugly runs down to the bone. It may seem that this is all there is: creator creates, audience views. That's a bad assumption, though; the audience not only views, but reviews, criticizes, collects, becomes inspired, and stalks. If it were simpler, it might be fair to say that the audience owes nothing to the creator. Sadly, simple belongs to the world of other columns.
There is a common feeling that it is rude to not applaud at a performance. I'm not sure that I understand that idea; after all, didn't I already pay for my ticket? Isn't that all I owe the artist? I would argue yes, to a limited degree; the contract between myself and the performer exists only because I have chosen to view this performance, and I have paid for the time and talent. If I am not moved, do I really have to react?
The audience, in response to any piece of art, is required only to give it a chance. If it does nothing for you, put it aside and move ahead. If it bothers you, criticize it; if it moves you, praise it. This may sound a little misleading, though -- praise and criticism are not requirements of an audience, but it should be noted that they encourage and shape future works. In that, an audience can participate (even if indirectly) in the creation; this is part of the synergy that makes artistic endevours so exciting.
The dutiful audient will recognize the boundary between proper and improper behavior. This can be defined on a lot of levels, some obvious, some less evident. The easy example is following rules at performances; take King Crimson as an example. They request three things of their live audiences: no photography, no taping, and no smoking. Each of these are things that the band feels affects their ability to perform to various degrees; is there any other reason that you need to follow those simple rules? This isn't about your lack of concern for your fellow concert-goers' lungs, or adding another bootleg to your collection. Think of it like this: you bought admission to a concert, of which you have certain expectations. Why, then, would you intentionally sabotage those expectations yourself by breaking rules that the creator has requested that you follow?
A less evident example, though maybe so because habit and ritual have ingrained rude behavior into us on a cultural level: autograph seekers. While I have yet to figure out the appeal of getting a celebrity's signature, it's big business in the real world, and it goes on every day. It's one thing to have someone's signature, or a collection of them, but it's another thing altogether to get that ink-spot at their expense. If you go to a convention, or a book signing, or a concert, then you are perfectly entitled to seek your autograph (though if you are refused for whatever reason, let it go -- your rights don't extend that far). But if you see your favorite writer or movie star eating dinner in the restaurant that you happened to chose that night (how amazing -- you and Tom Cruise have the same tastes! Isn't that *odd*?), or shopping in your favorite mall, or fueling up at the neighborhood Exxon, keep your pen in your pocket and go on about your business. If you've ever been interupted at dinner by a telemarketer, or been hit up for spare change while squeegeeing your windshield while your buddy goes in to get his Powerade and Kit Kat, you might be able to imagine being haunted at every turn by mad zombies who want a piece of you and your presupposed fortune. It's sad but true: fame and fortune don't rub off or pass from pen to paper, any more than luck, success, talent, or good hygiene.
There are more items in the Creator's Rights list, most of which I've touched on in past columns. The creator has the right to create what he or she sees fit. The creator has the right to pursue different mediums, although they should keep Don Johnson's album HEARTBEAT and Stephen King's acting ability in mind if they do so. The creator has the right to quit, whenever he or she feels it is time to do so, and never look back. While the creator does have the obligation to honor any promises he or she has made, they have the right to ignore promises that the audience tries to invent or put in their mouths.
The one responsibility that the audience has, above all others, is to respect the creator. Not only has he or she got talent that you don't have (yes, even you guitarists and writers), but he or she was willing to risk a lot to get to where they are. Perhaps they were starving artists, saving every spare penny to produce work that would get them noticed; they might have worked for next-to-nothing in order to do what they loved; perhaps they gave up all stability for that one chance at making it. Whatever the case, how many of you have taken those chances, and succeeded? In many ways, these artists have made these sacrifices for you; although they create for themselves (mostly), the creations are your benefit, whether music, movies, books, comics, or theater.
It boils down to basic human relations. I would say that it hinges on the Golden Rule, but the whole "Do unto others" thing seems a little lenient in this case, as everyone that doesn't have fame seems to think that they want to be treated like famous people are commonly treated (thus validating their own behavior). I think instead that it involves a preceptual shift, that people need to stop viewing creators as celebrities, and instead as fellow people. Think about it this way: would you be apprehensive about approaching your local garbageman for an autograph, or to let him know how much you appreciate his work? Now, without whom would this world be a worse place?
Next time you see Chris Claremont or Peter Mayhew or Lou Ferrigno at a convention, feel free to let them know how much they mean to you, or how they inspired you to write or act get dressed up in the shavings of your mother's favorite coat just to win the costume contest on Saturday night. That's what you're both there for: to honor and be honored, to meet and be met, to worship and be laughed at. But should you see them at the hotel that night, or at the restaurant, leave them alone. They're not performing, and you're not paying; the creator/audience relationship should be left at the arena.
Besides, if you change your perception of the over-importance of creators and celebrities in general, the gap between you and them grows smaller and smaller, and easier, perhaps, to cross.