The issue of critics receiving free tickets has come up. Admittedly, it was only an aside in a longer Facebook post, about the preponderance of people getting into shows for free without a good reason, but, of course, this pokes at my privilege. As such, I am going to spend far too long discussing the matter and protecting my rights to go to see shows without stumping up the cash.
The argument is that a critic cannot review a show if they have not paid to get in, because they lack the investment made by the rest of the audience. I am not sure there is any evidence for this – there are plenty of one star shows, five-star shows, three-star shows which suggests that the range of reviewing is not undermined by the free ticket – but to remove the reviewer free ticket privilege would pretty much destroy the landscape of criticism in the Edinburgh Fringe and beyond.
Even a relatively successful critic could not afford to see the number of shows that they do if they were not given free tickets. The price of an international festival ticket would wipe out pretty much a day’s worth of pay for reviewing. Adding transport costs, food costs, Internet payments and the act of criticism becomes expensive. Now consider the recent reports that identified bloggers as the primary outlets for reviews at this year’s fringe. How many bloggers are making money from reviewing shows? If they had to pay for their tickets – and this would not be a consistent policy, some artists will always give free tickets to reviewers – they would not be able to maintain their work rates.
I am a big snob about bloggers, and I am never shy, at least in private, to point out how terrible and ignorant some of the reviews can be, but I do recognise their importance in an ecosystem. So, please, no more complaints that critics are getting free tickets. Eeven if it does compromise their integrity, the alternative is no criticism except by a minority of critics who are doing very well and getting plenty of work for national newspapers.
And I can be as rude about the quality of their work as the most minor blogger. It is almost as if the ‘no free tickets’ opinion supports the hegemony of the wealthy being allowed have an opinion, while the amateur or enthusiast must languish.
Anyway, I am all for more free tickets being given away. Some years ago, there was an application for smart phones called Theatre Ninja. As I remember, it organised audiences for shows that did not have an audience. It gave away free tickets. It coordinated those people who couldn’t really afford to see many shows, got them into those shows that could not afford to get an audience. This was a really good thing, but it disappeared very suddenly. I think it would be great if somebody would do this again. I think it would be amazing if people were able to fill those empty seats at the fringe.
I especially would like it if people who live in Edinburgh could see shows for a cheaper price. I would especially like it if people from lower income brackets would get into see shows for free. There are plenty of people who are priced out of theatre. There are plenty of people who are priced out of the fringe. This applies to artists as well as audiences. However, I’m interested in audiences today. And free tickets, if not necessarily just for industry professionals, would be a very good thing. If an application like Theatre Ninja existed, it wouldn’t be a case of filling up seats that might be sold. It would be a case of seeing what sales were like and getting people in in the last hour or so before the curtain wen t up. There is something similar already on the fringe: venue workers are often allowed to go in and see shows if there are seats available for them.
So, I don’t really want to see less free tickets at the fringe. I want to see more, and I want to see more than four people in the audience.
While I am talking about audiences, I would like to say how much I hate them. I hate the cheering that happens at the end of shows. I admit that this is a function of my ADHD. I don’t like unexpected loud noises and clapping is just about bearable. However, the whooping that now seems to be a feature of most applause is deeply distressing to me on an emotional level. I don’t like it, and I don’t want to hear it, I do put my headphones on at the end of the show to block it out. I am dealing with it.
Can I offer a philosophical objection to this abominable action of hooting like a chimpanzee? Yesterday, I saw a show about alcohol abuse. It was short, intense, and unapologetic in representing a section of society that suffers under the twin bullies of addiction and poverty. It was sobering. It had a little bit of hope at the end, concentrated on the social and personal consequences of drug and alcohol abuse. It was heavy.
The lights went down. The audience applauded. Somebody behind me raised up a very complex cheer. It sounded as if they had been to drama school and concentrated on polyphonic singing. It was an echo of the sounds made at funerals by middle eastern women. It was an ululation. It really was not in sympathy with the tone of the work.
If I am honest, again, I would say that I like silence at the end of the show. My favourite moment is that bit when the lights go out and the audience aren’t sure whether it is time to applaud. It is a pause, a moment of calm, the moment of recollection. I sit in this darkness and absorb my experience. It is often a moment of quiet bliss. I guess if I had my way, I would ban all clapping. I only mention this so that the utter unfairness of my complaints, which is directed at people who have enjoyed the show, is clear. I am miserable and burnt out. The fringe is the real enemy.
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