As expected, I was able to find statistical evidence supporting my claim of the senior seat-monopoly. The stats also offered a few reasons why more seats are being filled by very mature viewers.

A 1998 study, which looked at the impact of demographic trends on Canadian arts attendance, suggested that seniors’ attend more dance, theatrical and symphony or classical music performances because they enjoy more 2.3 hours more leisure time per day than the average Canadian.

While I agree that having more time makes it easier for seniors to attend these events, there are other factors, like income, upbringing and an aversion to new high-tech entertainment options (like the internet, video games, iPods, etc.), which make live performances more appealing to people over 65.

From my perspective, it is the public and social aspects of live entertainment that appeal to older audiences in a way that younger patrons just do not appreciate. I am specifically thinking about my aunt’s love for music.

Living in Metcalfe, Ontario, Aunt Marie will drive over half an hour to attend live concerts in Ottawa, on occasion. Although it would be easier and cheaper for her to listen to the radio or buy CD recordings, she rarely touches her stereo. She enjoys the event of the concert and says it gives her a chance to “get out of the house,” see new people and meet others who enjoy the types of things that she does. Whenever possible, she will rope one of her church friends into going with her, which turns the event into a memory the two of them can share and talk about at the time and in the future.

Of course this social aspect exists for younger patrons as well, but it doesn’t carry the same weight. Seniors often struggle with loneliness and isolation. Attending a live performance brings them into the community in a safe atmosphere where they can enjoy the creative work and the social setting at the same time. Many theatres across Canada now host “Seniors Clubs” which congregate older people who might otherwise feel intimidated to attend a production alone. Even the government of Canada recognizes and supports these important community groups.

The average Canadian attends a performance to enjoy the content, not the crowd. For older audience members, however, the experience goes beyond the stage, including the who, what, when and where of the event and everything that surrounds it.

I am glad that live performances provide such complex and wide range of stimulus and satisfaction for older audience members. I only wish that Canadians of every age saw, valued and enjoyed theatrical productions with as much complexity as seniors do.

Those I met, or should I say viewed, during intermission at the Vancouver Opera Company’s performance of Rossini’s The Italian Girl of Algiers provided undeniable proof that some people go to the theatre simply to be seen.

There is an aura of “prestige” associated with High Art productions like the ballet, the symphony and the opera which attracts a strange assembly of upper-class people, seniors, executives, recognized artists, students, tourists and social elites.

Although many of them may be investors whose names are proudly displayed in the penultimate pages of the glossy 9’’x12’’ playbills, they are an audience with little interest in the production’s cultural significance or its effect on Vancouver’s theatre community (if it, in fact, has one).

Despite recent efforts to attract younger and hip-er audiences through reduced ticket prices, MANGAzines, free previews and explanatory lectures, the regular operatic crowd pays no mind to the pubescent tourists in their midst. They expect to see, and dress to please, the regular attendees whose tax-deductible donations make them feel good about the irrelevant aristocratic and archaic cultural institution into which they funnel their funds. Supporting the opera offers them an opportunity to dress up and impress the other social elites who can afford a night on the town. Their are tax dollars well spent, when you consider the unglamorous DTES options.

Vancouver’s Queen Elizabeth Theatre can seat close to 3,000 people when filled to capacity. With ticket prices starting at $35 per seat and limited runs of only 4 to 5 performances per production, the fur coats and Fendi bags that float up and down the orchestra aisles classify a very different breed, or should I say brand, of theatergoer.

Far from those encountered at revolutionary and evolutionary theatre festivals who wear cotton and denim because the spectacle is the performance itself, not those watching it; the Queen E’s audience would shudder with discontent, and be mistaken for subversive performance artists themselves, were they to acknowledge or attend progressive arts events.

Although operatic performances may be sitting stagnantly in an antiquated cultural quagmire, at least their audience members are sitting very VERY pretty.

… Returning to my questions of who actually attends live performance and who cares about it, a superficial survey of most theatre audiences have indicated a 3:1 ratio of wrinkles to rockers…

I must clarify that the two categories mentioned above are neither mutually exclusive nor inclusive. People who go to the theatre don’t always care about it, and many people who care deeply about theatre often can’t afford to go. Making assumptions based on the superficial composition of one or two audiences does justice to no one and simply makes me appear ignorant.

Choosing to go to the theatre, however, is a complicated cultural decision… or so it seems. Inhibitive mediating factors that simply do not apply to movies or concerts arise when one considers a night of live performance.

For one thing, theatre attendance requires more forethought and seemingly higher stakes. Live performance runs are often short, tickets are expensive and limited, venues are few and far between, and there is the awkward uncertainty regarding what to wear when attending live performance.

If, after reserving seats, paying for parking, getting all dolled-up and buying tastefully tiny glasses of wine at intermission, you don’t enjoy the show, you’re likely to feel more shortchanged than if you’d blown $25, last-minute, on crappy seats for the new Will Smith zombie flick.

At least you’ll be able to criticize the film’s overblown production values and pathetic premise with your co-worker the next day, because s/he too will have seen or at least heard of it. Bemoaning the underwhelming new Moliere production is likely to get you blank stares and forced coughs, which will simply add to your feelings of cheated disappointment.

There is also the anonymity factor.

When you go to a film, even if you’re in a sold-out movie theatre, you can acceptably ignore the other patrons. When the lights dim, you need not interact with anyone or anything. The white screen will reflect coloured light at you and the DTS surround-sound will flood your ears with noise, but you won’t need to do anything. The movie will do it for you. You can take it all in or shut your eyes. You can even sleep if you want to: worry not, no one will notice you, and if they do, they are the ones who will feel awkward for noticing. It’s a Soma-addict’s dream.

Live performance, however, demands recognition. Actors, dancers, musicians will look back at you from the stage and demand some response — even if it’s just applause when the spectacle is over. Aggressive or passive, live theatre needs you to be alive and aware. Falling asleep is a HUGE faux pas punishable, in some venues, by audible scoffs, disapproving nudges and forcible ejections by uptight ushers. There is no requirement for you to enjoy or excogotate the performance, per say, but you are expected to willingly witness it. This means remaining alive enough, as an audience member during the performance, to respond to and engage with the work, should it move you.

The fear of having to respond is what keeps a lot of people away from live theatre, I think. The allure of lazy spectacle is too cheap and easy. Living and reacting is hard work. Eye contact is uncomfortable and clapping hurts the hands.

As part of this week’s PuSh International Performing Arts Festival, Italian director Romeo Castellucci is presenting Hey, Girl!, an avant-garde performance art piece that “explores the female body and sensitivity, evoking the slavery, violence, and servitude that still too often afflict women.”

According to Birnie, whose view was featured on the front page of the Vancouver Sun’s Arts section today, “You won’t find a more pretentious piece of pap to giggle at than Hey Girl! … While the wacky world of performance art always gets away with being bombastic and bizarre, it rarely ascends to the heights of silliness seen here… ”

Need I go on?

Although others think the performance is unnerving and engrossing, Birnie’s pan will keep many would-be-curious theatergoers away from the Frederic Wood Theatre this weekend.

Forget PuSh’s mission to “showcase contemporary work that is visionary, genre-bending, startling and original.” Birnie will have none of it: “The PuSh International Performing Arts Festival reaches a crescendo of kookiness in Italian artist Romeo Castellucci’s orgy of oddities.”

Conservative patrons can breathe a sigh of relief: Birnie has once again saved them from being challenged and <gasp!> uncomfortable at the theatre. Three cheers for sequined spectacles and forgettable fictions!

While researching a paper I wrote last semester, I interviewed Jerry Wasserman, who is a veteran Vancouver theatre critic and the acting Head of UBC’s Theatre, Film and Creative Writing department. We were talking about a critic’s right to voice her honest opinion, be it positive or negative, and the impact reviews can have on the success or failure of a production.

Speaking specifically about Vancouver’s theatre community, Wasserman said that a negative review from a well-read critic like The Vancouver Sun’s Peter Birnie, “can make a big difference for a small show that’s struggling to compete in what’s become an increasingly competitive [theatre] environment.”

Fortunately for Hey, Girl!, Mr. Birnie’s rebuke can do little to harm Romeo Castellucci’s career, considering the Italian artist’s internationally lauded reputation.

The “Birnie burn” will harm Vancouver’s ability to receive experimental and difficult works with an open mind and willing attitude. People must blindly trust Birnie’s judgment, as not many will catch one of Hey, Girl!’s 3 performances. With his rebuke as the authoritative cultural evaluation of the performance’s impact, Vancouverites may never see, and never invite, another Castellucci production here again. Woe unto us, if that be the case!

As Wasserman states, modern critiques serve the public in three ways: they offer consumer reviews, the reflect current social tastes, and they provide feedback for the artistic community. Credible critics are sometimes unkind, he says, but most try to be constructive, even when they pan a production.

Hey, Girl! did not receive such a kind fate.

Following the recent premiere of His Greatness, Canadian playwright Daniel MacIvor revealed his feelings about reviews at an audience Q & A. Having received a pan in The Georgia Straight that began: “His Greatness isn’t great. Much of Act One is a waste; but the script contains one passage of real beauty, and there are three excellent performances in this production…,” I asked MacIvor how he felt about it.

“I haven’t read it,” he replied. “I don’t read them.”

The three “excellent” actors then chimed-in to say that none of them had read the review either. But they had all heard about it.

Although MacIvor, who is a multiple award-winning playwright and actor, pays no attention to reviews, he still thinks critics are “an important part of the theatre industry.”

“So long as they have an actual interest in the community,” MacIvor mused, “it’s important for there to be a space for commentary — even if it is fucking obnoxious sometimes.”

Whether or not Romeo Castellucci will agree with MacIvor’s apt opinion regarding Peter Birnie’s review, I know not.

But I do know that I wholeheartedly agree: there must be space for commentary and sometime it is f***ing obnoxious.

Being avant-garde, however, is not part Western Gold’s mandate.

The company casts and commissions works that address “the concerns of aging in a social and family environment … and inspire all people, young and old, to engage life to its fullest potential.”

Considering the demographic changes Canada will see in the coming years, Western Gold is cleverly targeting a growing market that offers a lot of potential. Not only do seniors have more leisure time to devote to the performing arts, many prefer to invest their money in more traditional forms of entertainment as opposed to new technology.

Being aware of who their audience is and catering to what they will enjoy will be the key to Western Gold’s success. Producing plays that are aesthetically beautiful, progressive to the point of novelty (not alienation), sentimental yet applicable, nostalgic yet inoffensive, will garner them a devoted following and tenure within Vancouver’s playhouses.

Groundbreaking works simply won’t sell seats. And the point is to sell seats, right?

Returning to my questions of who actually attends live performance art and who cares about it, a quick superficial survey of most theatre audiences will reveal a 3:1 ratio of wrinkles to rockers. Those numbers practically double when great literary works like Hamlet, Jane Eyre or Old Goriot hit the stage.

Old Goriot attracts a mixed demographic because of its UBC and PuSh affiliations, but if the same production were staged elsewhere in the city, cast entirely with professional artists, I doubt every seat would have been filled.

Don’t get me wrong: I really admire the creative work Western Gold is doing. Canada has a number of outstanding senior stage actors who are not seen often enough. Without theatre companies pressing the elderly agenda, the talents of these performers are wasted on commercials and bit-roles in CBC sitcoms.

To answer my own question: selling seats is not the point, but it’s a large part of it.

Creating progressive, challenging and arresting Canadian theatre is artistically and culturally important. But if no one is there to witness the innovations, then it’s not theatre. It’s just play.

Based on the sound-poetry developed and performed by Toronto’s original Four Horsemen, Alton and Manson’s Project combines movement, animation, video, theatre, sound and song to reanimate and celebrate the collective’s mind-bending poetic works.

Although Rafael Baretto-Riviera, Paul Dutton, Steve McCaffery and bpNichol gained considerable notoriety in Canada and abroad when The Four Horsemen were active between 1970 and 1988, few Canadians today have ever heard of them or their work.

Even Alton and Manson admit they knew nothing about the avant-garde sound-poetry collective until Stuart McLean played an excerpt of Allegro 108 on his CBC Radio program, The Vinyl Cafe. Immediately captivated by what they heard, the two began researching in an effort to revive this nearly forgotten chapter in the history of Canadian performance art.

The 70-minute performance piece they have developed as a result of that research makes an effort not only to re-present The Four Horsemen’s works, but to educate the audience about what the 1970′s collective was trying to do. Interspersed between the playful performances are video clips that explain the aims and origins of the sound-poetry movement. As the 4 actors embody and explore our use of everyday language, their sounds and movements build on the phonic foundation initially laid forth by the four poets.

When the performance ended my senses were tingling and my mind was racing. I felt as though I had just learned a great Canadian secret. Even though I stood clapping in the midst of a sold-out audience, I wondered how many Canadians would hear, or care to know, about The Four Horsemen Project.

Waiting for the bus a man asked me where I was headed. When I told him I’d just attended a PuSh Festival performance, he cocked his head to the side and said, “PuSh? What the heck is that?” After explaining a bit about the festival the man sighed, lit a cigarette, and said with an exhale, “I’ve lived in Vancouver all my life and I’ve never heard of that festival. But then, I’m not into artsy stuff like that. That stuff’s just not for me, you know?”

Although I was frustrated with the man’s response I couldn’t help but wonder: if the public can no longer relate to the performing arts, then who indeed are they for?

The question is: who, save for the city’s artistic community members, cares? And does it matter if no one else cares?

At a time when all manner of entertainment, media, art and music can be streamed into one’s home 24 hours a day, seven days a week, who wants to go to the theatre? What could possibly be on offer that you haven’t yet seen on YouTube or digital cable?

PuSh’s assertion that “exceptional artists can change lives and change societies,” is a tenet that is widely held but is rarely achieved on stage these days.

To be changed, society must be first be aware that the artist or performance exists. Then they must engage with the ideas being expressed.

But if everyday people aren’t in the audience, and no social dialogue surrounds the event, to what end is a performance successful?

PuSh is combining local, national and international artists in Vancouver’s creative crucible so that they can share and develop their “visionary, genre-bending, multi-disciplined, startling and original works.”

Without public involvement, debate, protest, interest, or engagement with these progressive ideas, how will society benefit from the creative boundaries PuSh is pushing?

From a newcomer’s perspective, Vancouver appears to have a thriving and productive performing arts community. But like other minority groups, their culture is insular and their connections are practically incestuous, which limits their progeny’s potential.

To be relevant in the lives of Vancouver citizens, the PuSh performances and performers will need to attract and engage the community at large.

How, and how well Old Goriot and The Four Horsemen Project do that will be the subject of the following two posts.