One of the most polarizing topics of conversation in the world of live classical music performances has to do with clapping.
Specifically, is it OK to clap between movements of a piece?
Many large-scale classical music compositions, including symphonies and string quartets, have multiple movements. (usually four, sometimes three, and occasionally way more)
Each movement of a piece is self-contained and has its own musical ideas, and those musical ideas usually don’t show up in the other movements. But at the same time, a performance of the “piece” isn’t usually considered complete unless all of the movements are played.
This summer, I attended a concert that featured a performance of a four-movement symphony. At the end of the first movement, sections of the audience broke out into applause.
Other audience members immediately shushed them and glared at them. This happened after each of the remaining movements of the piece as well.
Afterwards, I heard comments like, “Somebody needs to explain to them how these concerts work! They’re disrupting the music.”
On the other side, I hear, “Why can’t I applaud and show my appreciation after something I enjoyed hearing?”
Several years ago, I gave a lecture before a performance of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos. I got an email afterwards from an attendee telling me that I should have used my talk to explain to the audience why they shouldn’t clap in between the movements during the performance.
For the record, in Bach’s time, that music would have been played in the background of a social event, not at a concert. People probably wouldn’t have even noticed it, let alone applauded if they heard something they liked.
Even during Beethoven’s lifetime, audiences clapped between movements. At the premiere of Beethoven’s Symphony no. 7, the audience demanded an encore of the second movement before the orchestra could go on with the third and fourth movements.
In that regard, I’m cautious about advising against clapping between movements because “that’s how it always was” — because it wasn’t.
There’s also the question of how people experience not only the music but also what it’s like to be a member of a classical music audience. Getting shushed at a concert isn’t exactly an experience that would make me want to come back. But I also understand the transcendent feeling that comes after hearing a particularly incredible movement and wanting to hang onto it as long as I can — and hearing my neighbors’ applause can certainly disrupt my moment of zen.
There are such different ways audiences can show their appreciation for the music — perhaps silently, perhaps by clapping. I worry, though, when it becomes more about “rules” — what they are, who knows them, and what happens to people who break those rules.
I want live classical music to be a place where people feel welcome, not where they’re afraid of getting glared at for breaking a rule they might not have known existed.
I wish I had a tidy answer to this question, but I don’t. What do you think? Email me at amanda.sewell@interlochen.org with your thoughts.