Which Came First, the Audience or the Performer?
by Mark Baxter
Was the first performance of all time inspired by a random group of people in need of entertainment? Or were the caves and forests of yesteryear filled with lone singers belting out their hearts without ever intending to present their talents to others?
Imagine a man at the dawn of humanity. He's walking along, looking for food, when he stubs his toe on a rock—again. He is not only in a fair amount of pain, but also really aggravated. What are the chances of that happening twice in one outing? He can't think those actual words because he has yet to develop language, but he knows he's not having a good day. Not only has he scared away any potential meals with his angry cries, but he's also caught the ear of a nearby human who cautiously heads in the direction of the commotion. The curious onlooker crouches behind a bush and watches as the injured man vents his frustration by shrieking and howling at the top of his lungs. And so, in this very unceremonious manner, the first performance unfolded.
Without knowing each other, a connection was made between those two ancient people. The spectator was captivated by the expressions and sounds of the other man because he related to the feelings. He continued to spy as the unsuspecting performer's voice then swooped up in delight upon discovering some berries, and then groaned downward in disappointment as the last berry was consumed. The vocal sounds triggered feelings of empathy in the one-man audience. Bonding with the stranger, he also released a sigh when the berries were gone, inadvertently calling attention to himself. Suddenly aware that he was being watched, the performer's heart skipped a beat as he realized that his actions had captured the emotions of another person. Wanting to explore this new connection further, the performer was sorry to see his audience depart into the forest.
The next night the man who had witnessed yesterday's impromptu performance wanted to share the experience with his woman. This doubled the audience of the previous day for the rookie performer. So the stage was set, but just before the second gig of all time could get underway, something unexpected occurred.
Stage fright seized the performer's mind and body. How would he recreate the special circumstances that existed the day before? What was it that made his audience return? He desperately wanted to connect with these people, yet he was in the dark about their desires. At a loss for what to do, he ran over and purposely kicked a large rock with his bare foot. It certainly hurt, but not like the day before. Embarrassed, he stifled his discomfort. His audience sat stone-faced. Then he grabbed some berries and wolfed them down. He scanned the two onlookers for approval, bypassing the enjoyment he had previously experienced when eating the fruit. No reaction from his audience.
Seem familiar? Since the second gig in history, performers have struggled with trying to please an audience. And since that second gig, audiences have been subjected to a hit-or-miss chance of attending a great live show. What was true then is true now: An audience is mostly interested in how the performer feels. On any given night, during any song on the set list, there is an opportunity to connect with your emotions, and therefore your audience. You don't have to act out the lyrics. Think big picture. Joy, love, loneliness or heartbreak are all typical song subjects because everybody can relate. To keep your performance real, draw from your experience. So start connecting the way you feel to the songs you sing and inspire your audience to explore their emotions. Because no matter how well you can sing or play, it's the way you make people feel that is remembered most.
