Reading between movements

Thomasina has taken the bait, having been reminded of the perplexed person who couldn’t figure out why anyone would pay a largish sum of money to sit quietly in a darkened room with music playing and read.

Therefore! Nine hasty and speculative reasons why people read programs during concerts (other than to follow a sung text):

1. following. Some concertgoers find it reassuring or helpful to follow the “running commentary” or sequential descriptions (I won’t call them analyses) offered in some program notes. I’d go so far as to say that much of that kind of writing is useless unless it’s read while listening.
2. focus. Some concertgoers find that reading about the music and its context helps keep them focused on the sounds and keeps the mind-wandering at bay.
3. fear. There would be some concertgoers who are afraid of not being able to articulate a “response” to the music once it’s over. Reading the program note alleviates the fear.
4. enthusiasm. These concertgoers might be new to classical music, fervent converts, but not always.
5. distraction. Some concertgoers find active listening challenging or impossible. They’re so used to “doing something else” while listening to hearing music (and the consumption of music via mechanical reproduction has played its part in this state of affairs) that they feel the need to do the same in concerts. Reading the program book is about the only acceptable thing to do in such a situation, although if you don’t mind a few curious looks, discreet sketching would work too.
6. tardiness. Some concertgoers prefer to read the program book in advance of the performance but have arrived too late or have been distracted by friends. Reading during the performance is better than nothing, they reason, especially if the work is unfamiliar.
7. consultation. Some concertgoers dip into the program. I know I’ll open to the page with the list of performers if a player I can’t identify attracts my attention, and I’ll turn to the program list to check the composer’s tempo direction if a movement begins in what strikes me as an outrageously inappropriate tempo.
8. study. Some concertgoers are of a musicological/scholarly bent. Then again, these people are just as likely to bring a score. I’ve pretty much given up on score-reading during concerts. It’s either too dark to read the miniscule notation or the rapid page turns during fast movements get on the nerves of one’s neighbours. [Aside 1: I did once follow along with the script for nearly an entire Molière play, but I was only 12 at the time and to this day I don’t understand what possessed me. Aside 2: Last year a score-reading friend was roundly chastised for “reading a novel” during the concert and “not even paying attention to the music”.]
9. sheer boredom. There are times – I’m sorry to say – when the program book is more interesting than the concert. 

My personal stance? Other people reading programs doesn’t bother me in the slightest. But then I would find the sight a rewarding one. (I’m just as happy when people read the program outside the context of the performance, of course, but I don’t get to witness that.) If other concertgoers find the programs helpful or or interesting or entertaining and want to read them during the performance, that’s fine by me.  

I tend not to read programs during concerts because I’ve either read it all before, several times, or because I’ve gleaned what I need to know from a quick skim. And particularly with orchestral music, watching the players and following the individual colours and lines around the orchestra is by far the best way of keeping focus, stimulating enthusiasm, keeping the mind from irrelevant distractions, and generally studying the music anyway. But then again, see point 9.