After the heavy and heavy silence that the pandemic has forced on the performance halls of Quebec — and a series of reductions which have generated their share of frustrations (talk to the artists, but also to the technicians and the ticket office employees) — , a semblance of normalcy has settled in the world of performing arts. While it was believed that many things would change after this collective trauma, certain “traditions” persist, such as that of the almost systematic ovation in front of a play, a concert or an opera. Is this phenomenon purely Quebec? Deeply current? Symbol of a certain conformism? The duty pondered the question.
“The Quebec public must understand the meaning of a standing ovation. There is not a show presented in Quebec, whether brilliant or rotten, which is not entitled to its ovation. If I were on stage, I would find it strange that regardless of the intensity of the performance, the desire or not to be there, the quality of the text, the staging and the technique, the audience invariably gets up at the end of the show. […] Much like the tip at the end of a meal, the charge of applause should send a message to the troupe. Making the standing ovation a convention, an inevitable step in the spectator’s task, demonstrates how uneducated we are. This opinion letter, signed Jean-François Gosselin and published in 2002 in the pages of the newspaper The sun de Québec, could, according to several observers, have been written… this year.
The judgment may even seem severe, but it reflects a persistent phenomenon in certain cultural places, where the ovation would be an imposed figure. This is what Pierre-Alexandre Buisson, contributor to Urban Bible and community manager at Hydro-Québec, once again observes, who scours Montreal theaters with a mixture of delight and weariness — “especially at the end of the season, when parts are less good”.
For someone who, before the pandemic, saw his seatmate jump up after having slept through an entire performance, the ovation seems a way “to avoid being judged by those who are already up, while others don’t want to upset the artists by remaining seated”. And there is, according to him, a form of mimicry that he does not hesitate to compare to the rush on toilet paper in grocery stores at the start of the pandemic! “It’s a ripple effect that’s easy to see when you’re seated at the back of the room: the first to get up start the movement,” says Pierre-Alexandre Buisson. A way, according to him, of imposing his tastes by loudly showing his enthusiasm.
I rise, therefore I am
Fabien Loszach brings some nuances. Advertiser and columnist on the show Search engine of ICI Première, he wrote in 2008 in the pages of the magazine Inter a fine analysis of the standing ovation entitled “Excessive ovation: mediocracy on the move? “. When he arrived in Quebec in the early 2000s, this Frenchman had been somewhat disconcerted by this practice, and he had felt the need to explore the phenomenon in greater depth, particularly from a historical angle.
“In the Elizabethan theater [principalement à Londres, entre 1562 et 1642, avec William Shakespeare comme auteur emblématique de cette période], the spectators shouted, talked, interrupted the actors and asked them to replay certain scenes”, emphasizes Fabien Loszach. This is quite a contrast with the proponents of classical humanist culture, “conceived as an intellectual formation that allows you to come out of the animal state, to tear yourself away from irrationality: it is a way of elevating the body”.
This conception was largely dominant until the Second World War, but the massive arrival of baby boomers (yes, again them) will overturn this restraint.
Two movements overlap here: the democratization of culture, but also the emergence of a popular culture, which is spreading as much through the massive presence of television sets as through the arrival of planetary musical icons — first Elvis Presley, and then the Beatles.
“The baby-boom generation has proposed a new bodily attitude”, emphasizes Fabien Loszach. Woodstock, to take just one festive example among many others, was a real shock in this respect. “On the other hand, I see it more as a manifestation of individualism, a way of saying: ‘I think this representation is good, so I get up, I assume my choice… and I hold part of the truth! ” Conversely, we will have understood that in bourgeois, traditional and aristocratic culture, the standing ovation is the height of vulgarity, because it is precisely the body that speaks, not the mind. »
clap with me
If Fabien Loszach has analyzed the phenomenon, Francis Ducharme, lecturer in theatrical studies at UQAM, recognizes that it is a recurring subject of discussion among his university colleagues, all sharing “hypotheses, theories” and the same exasperation.
He notes that this manifestation has increased over the past 15 years, the omnipresence of the ovation leading to both “a kind of devaluation, and a phenomenon of inflation, like a currency which would no longer have any value “.
In this context, Francis Ducharme avoids opening nights as much as possible, too often surrounded by what he calls “the hypocritical spectator, the one who pretends to be in communion”. A communion to which he refuses to adhere if he considers that the performance does not deserve it. This posture – that of the spectator sitting alone in his corner – is akin to dissent, “and it is sometimes heavy to bear”. “I often need time to enjoy a show,” says the man who has frequented Montreal theaters since adolescence, noting the strength of Quebec’s herd spirit – and not just in the theater world, “an extended family that makes proof of mutual aid and solidarity”.
The baby boom generation came up with a new body attitude […] On the other hand, I see it more as a manifestation of individualism, a way of saying: “I think this representation is good, so I get up, I assume my choice… and I hold part of the truth!” On the other hand, we will have understood that in bourgeois, traditional and aristocratic culture, the “standing ovation” is the height of vulgarity, because it is precisely the body that speaks, not the mind.
It is for this reason that he appreciates the work of the playwright Olivier Choinière (Jocelyne is depressed, Venise-en-Québec, Jean says), very critical of gregariousness. “He pushed her very far [la critique] in Sing with me, first in Montreal, but especially in Quebec, where the actors returned to the stage as long as the spectators applauded, a radical gesture which gave rise to many debates, because Choinière held up a mirror to them. »
The habit seems well anchored in certain places, according to Pierre-Alexandre Buisson (“at Duceppe, at the TNM, and at the Opéra de Montréal”) and Francis Ducharme (“at the Théâtre d’Aujourd’hui, where pride towards young authors is very emotional”). And it feeds, still according to the latter, from a less robust critical discourse, partly because of the media crisis.
The ovation is therefore not likely to dissolve in the sometimes painful aftermath of the pandemic. Certainly, several artists need our accolades more than ever. But perhaps also with a sharper look?