Our theme for the month of June is “snapshots.” Writers were asked to submit a piece with a header image that they took or created.
If I had a magical wish to change something small in the world, I have a number of minor inconveniences I’d think about using it on. I’d love to see the no turn on red sign that went in near my house a few years ago gone. I’d be tempted to wish to ban alcohol sales from the self checkout lane at the grocery store, as it seems like every time I only have one thing to grab I get stuck behind someone restocking their liquor cabinet. But perhaps the strongest contender for use of the wish would be banning phones from concert venues.
I’ll be the first to admit I don’t go to a lot of concerts. I went to a few at Calvin, and I found I don’t enjoy being surrounded by sweaty strangers. I prefer to listen to music in solitude, where I can rewind back a few seconds if I miss a lyric. These days, when I do go to a show it’s either because I really like the band, or because someone’s gotten tickets they can’t use. Whenever I do end up going to a show, it seems a few audience members are determined to experience it entirely through the camera on their phone.
I’m not totally against taking photos at concerts. I took the photo above at a show by The Mountain Goats in Kalamazoo last September. I recognize that in today’s society our lives are lived partially online, and for better or worse, people want to post their experiences to social media to share. My problem comes with, for example, the teenage couple directly in front of me at an April show who filmed the entire thing, starting a new recording with each new song. (Yes, that show was also The Mountain Goats, but I swear I do listen to other music.)
Whenever I see an audience member like this, I want to pull them out of the concert and have a conversation. It baffles me that someone would go to a concert only to film the whole thing. Concerts are about being present in-person for music that could be listened to at home, and I can’t imagine this behavior enhances their presence in the space. I’ve taken a camera to some friend hangouts in the last month as I searched for a topic for this post, and every time I turned it on I was no longer a participant in what was happening, but an outside observer. I also can’t imagine these audience members will ever watch the whole thing back. I didn’t even find the picture above until I was intentionally looking back at the photos I’d taken over the last year.
So, the question remains, how do audience members respectfully take photos at a concert while still being present? Unfortunately, I don’t have the answers, but I do have a couple of guidelines that may offer some assistance.
First, respect the artist’s wishes. This one’s pretty easy. Musicians aren’t a joint force on this topic, and many will ask audiences to behave in one way or another. If the artist asks you to put your phone away, be respectful of that, even if they don’t have locking pouches that enforce phone-free zones. If the artist encourages you to take out your phones, feel free to. This actually is pretty good advice for going to concerts in general, not just with photography.
Second, avoid excessive photography. One of the things I noticed working concerts at Calvin was the photographers working for the venue usually only took photos during the first song or two of a set. I have no idea if this is standard across the board, but it seems like a good practice. Pictures of one or two songs can still help jog the memory of going to see the concert, and they’ll be better memories experiencing it in person, rather than through a phone screen. Opening songs have some weight, as the first impression the artist is trying to make, and provide a good opportunity to get pictures, especially if the venue is outside and there’s still daylight.
I don’t expect phones to magically disappear at concerts any more than I expect the no turn on red sign which adds two minutes to my commute will go away, as much as I wish they might. These days they’re vital infrastructure in the world we’ve created, and asking someone to power theirs off can feel like asking them to cut off an arm. And while I may hope the next time I’m at a concert the audience will be more in concert with my wishes, I can only conduct myself as an example for what I want the world to be. Though I may wish I was home with my headphones on when the sweaty people next to me start jostling me a little more than I’d like.
