Recently I sang at a venue that does not normally attract huge crowds even for the top concerts. Being anything but a 'top' musician, I entered the hall, ready for the single row of listeners that I fervently hoped would be there. (It's not very heartening to count more people on stage than off. More so when the only accompaniments are the mridangam, violin and the tambura player!)
Imagine my surprise when I found people entering in decent numbers. Before long, the hall actually had filled out rather well.
I also noticed all the 'rasikas' walking in with a piece of paper resembling the token at the slipper queue in the temples.
Before I could chew on this phenomenon the concert had to start. And then, the happiness of an actually audible applause was so heady that I went on to sing with gusto, even more surprised that nobody was even walking out .
Luckily, I 'm not susceptible to flattery. Nor do I have a very inflated image of myself. Or else, the rapt attention of the sizable crowd not to mention the 'listener's choice chits' would have had me feeling like a celebrity.
Just after the thaniavarthanam though, the bubble burst. The organiser borrowed the mridangam artiste's microphone to 'say a few words about the performers'. The job done, he came to what I think was the most interesting part of the concert. All this while, during his speech, a little boy had been busy arraying bright stainless steel utensils just in front of the audience. Now, a juvenile member among the listeners was called upon to pick a number from a box of chits. This number was called out and the next thing I knew, was the slow advent of a senior citizen who, after a lot of deliberation went on to choose a bright stainless steel pail and make his way back... home!
This sabha had done what many big banners have not been able to. A small 'lucky dip' announced at the beginning of the concert, to be given at the end of the concert keeps the audience in a state of delicious suspense. And if the music is not too bad, they surely get to have a pleasant wait for the ultimate verdict. Everybody is happy in the process. There is nothing cheap about it, nor desperate. It is just a gentle tactic that keeps people coming to the music halls.And when we hear of so much publicity seeking taking place in a field where the supply far exceeds the demand, it keeps me thinking: Why not?
Imagine my surprise when I found people entering in decent numbers. Before long, the hall actually had filled out rather well.
I also noticed all the 'rasikas' walking in with a piece of paper resembling the token at the slipper queue in the temples.
Before I could chew on this phenomenon the concert had to start. And then, the happiness of an actually audible applause was so heady that I went on to sing with gusto, even more surprised that nobody was even walking out .
Luckily, I 'm not susceptible to flattery. Nor do I have a very inflated image of myself. Or else, the rapt attention of the sizable crowd not to mention the 'listener's choice chits' would have had me feeling like a celebrity.
Just after the thaniavarthanam though, the bubble burst. The organiser borrowed the mridangam artiste's microphone to 'say a few words about the performers'. The job done, he came to what I think was the most interesting part of the concert. All this while, during his speech, a little boy had been busy arraying bright stainless steel utensils just in front of the audience. Now, a juvenile member among the listeners was called upon to pick a number from a box of chits. This number was called out and the next thing I knew, was the slow advent of a senior citizen who, after a lot of deliberation went on to choose a bright stainless steel pail and make his way back... home!
This sabha had done what many big banners have not been able to. A small 'lucky dip' announced at the beginning of the concert, to be given at the end of the concert keeps the audience in a state of delicious suspense. And if the music is not too bad, they surely get to have a pleasant wait for the ultimate verdict. Everybody is happy in the process. There is nothing cheap about it, nor desperate. It is just a gentle tactic that keeps people coming to the music halls.And when we hear of so much publicity seeking taking place in a field where the supply far exceeds the demand, it keeps me thinking: Why not?
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