Rochester Fringe Festival, Day 1: An etiquette guide for Fringe patrons

Prior to the start of the Rochester Fringe Festival I joked
that City should include an etiquette guide for Fringe audiences. This wasn’t
meant to be bitchy (well, not entirely bitchy),
but was inspired by two thoughts. First, Rochester is used to the Jazz
Festival, during which people are encouraged to hop from show to show,
sometimes right in the middle of the set, and where audience etiquette tends to
be fairly relaxed. And second, the Fringe Festival has the potential to bring
people who do not typically consider themselves theater or dance folks into
new-to-them venues. They very well may not have a concept of how they should
behave. (We’ll do that whole benefit-of-the-doubt thing.)

But last night I took in two shows at the Fringe Festival,
and I was honestly shocked at the behaviors of several members of the
audiences. Call me an elitist, call me a jerk, call me
what you want, but this is a live public performance. If you’re going to take one
in, you need to have a level of basic respect for those around you — and especially
for those performing on the stage. So for those who don’t know, or for those
who perhaps need a refresher, here are a few helpful tips that will make your
Fringe Fest adventures more successful, and more
enjoyable for the patrons around you.

*Do not talk during a
live performance. Movie theaters and music concerts have become the Wild
West when it comes to audience conversations both in person or over the phone —
there are no rules anymore. But when you are at a live performance, with one or
more people on stage, concentrating, trying to remember lines, blocking, and
physical movements, and trying to connect emotionally with the material and
audience, you really do need to keep your mouth shut. Not just for the
performer’s sake, but for the sake of the people sitting around you, who have
also presumably paid their hard-earned money to take in a show.
And whispering is just as bad. If you’re not digging a particular show — and
hey, it happens — you can keep quiet for 60 minutes (most of the Fringe shows
are 60 minutes or less). I have faith in you. Mentally run baseball stats or
try to remember the names of all the state capitals. That’s nobody’s business
but yours. But I do urge you to try to keep engaged with what’s going on up on
stage, because you never know how a live performance is going to end. Maybe
somebody will score a touchdown, or a spontaneous Victoria’s Secret fashion
show will take place, or a Transformer will eat the lead actor or something. It
could happen! Behold the magic of the theater.

*Do not make a
spectacle of yourself. At one of the performances I attended last night, a
gentleman tried to leave out the back exit, and when that didn’t happen, he
started noisily stretching and adjusting himself before eventually returning to
his seat, where he promptly snored loudly for a solid 15 minutes. On top of
that, two women got up in the middle of the show — in full view of the actor,
and the entire audience of the GevaNextstage— and walked
out. Can you imagine the signal that was sending to the actor? To the rest of
the audience, which you just totally distracted? It’s incredibly disrespectful.
Unless you have a real emergency, like a psychic flash that your house is on
fire or you forgot to DVR the “Dynasty” repeat with the lily-pond fight, you
can deal. Again: these shows are an hour.

*Turn off your cell
phones — no really, turn them off. You know how we’re all told to turn off our
cell phones at the beginning of a performance? That includes you. It really
does. Unless you are the President of the United States of America, or an
on-call medical professional, you’re really not so important that you cannot
turn off your cell phone for 60 minutes. You will survive. I promise you that
this is true. And when I say “turn off,” I mean TURN OFF. Your ringer on
vibrate still makes noise, and people in the seats around you can still hear it.
It takes them right out of a performance. Also, texting — while technically
silent — is equally distracting for everyone sitting around you. We can see
your screen. It is bright. It is really super annoying when you’re trying to
concentrate on a complicated narrative. And Sally can wait to find out where
you’re meeting for cocktails after the show. She’s already drunk anyway.

*Do not take flash
photography. Last night at RAPA two people were taking photos in the
audience. One of them I’m fairly certain had dispensation from the crew to
shoot the performance, and he wasn’t using flash. But the other was snapping
away for the first few minutes of the show, waving her camera up and down, side
to side, flash firing. Unless you’ve gotten specific permission from the artists
or venue, do not take photos during a live theater performance, ESPECIALLY not
with flash. It is incredibly distracting to the audience,
and downright dangerous to the people on stage. This isn’t your 6-year-old’s
dance recital.

So, theatergoers of Rochester, what else did I miss? Any
other rules of etiquette audiences should keep in mind?