This blog post will discuss in depth what an amateur band performer should think about and how they should act to achieve true communication on stage.
I’m not a professional. Nevertheless, the university band I’m a vocalist for is for performances. Of course, a small club at a university is not just a group for performing. But at least the club’s appearance is revealed through performances, and I am definitely a performer who stands in front of the audience. The word “performer” contains the love and passion for the entire process of planning, preparing, and actually performing a performance, beyond the moment of playing music on stage.
Becoming a performance performer is about communicating with others in a unique way that is not talking to others directly or posting something somewhere, writing a short diary on social media, or holding a candle in the street. It is about becoming a person who creates a “performance” by delivering one’s voice through music. Becoming a performance performer is about leading “communication” with the audience.
Now that I think about it, I remember crying profusely after the first performance, which was only embarrassing. The process of forming a band and preparing for a performance with a group of newbies who had no seniors and were all like-minded was not easy. The process of accepting juniors and maintaining the club was also a series of hardships. He led the club, which seemed to collapse at the slightest disturbance, and constantly pondered the identity of the club, which was called “band.” The question “What is this band that I am so obsessed with?” kept running through his head every day. After a year of intense contemplation, he came to the conclusion that “a band is a club that performs, and a performance is a promise to the audience.”
A promise to the audience. This promise means more than just the fact that we are performing when and where. It is difficult to find consideration for the audience in performances where the performers flirt on stage or make incomprehensible jokes, just to show off their singing or playing skills. A performance that communicates with the audience without a message to convey on stage is nothing more than a simple “show.” If the audience is alienated from a performance that is filled with foreign songs that cannot be understood and love songs that do not contain sincerity, then it cannot be called a true performance.
The audience is not there to listen to my songs and applaud. They are the last wedge of the performance, and the performance fails when the audience is excluded. If I want to sing exciting and enjoyable songs with the audience, I have to think about how to give them pleasure. If you want to share your hardships through music, you need to find a way to comfort each other. If you simply want to share good songs, you will have to work hard to find good songs. But all of your worries will eventually begin with the question, “What voice should I deliver to them?”
However, the process of creating my own voice is not an easy task. I also cannot dare to perform songs that I have written or composed myself due to my lack of talent. But at least in the process of selecting songs to perform, it is possible for amateurs to select songs that performers can relate to and enjoy together. A friend who once stood on stage once said. The performer must have “tremors.” If even I, who delivers the music on stage, do not feel any emotion or tremor, the music will be nothing more than a sound that passes by the audience.
Of course, the performance should not simply be a place to infuse the audience with the performer’s emotions and voice. All communication should be two-way, and the same is true for performances. However, it is not easy for the performers on stage to hear the voices of the audience directly. Therefore, special means of communication are needed in performances. The atmosphere and response become the window of communication. The audience’s response to the music delivered by the performers is conveyed back to the stage through the “atmosphere” of the concert hall, and we communicate through music and its emotions.
The performer is responsible for communication in the performance. From the moment I decide to go on stage, I become a performer who has made a promise with the audience, a promise of a “performance.” And that promise continues until the last audience member leaves the venue after the performance. A stage that is simply composed of “Wow, this song is good” without any thought about what kind of stage to create will not elicit genuine response, even if it gets applause. A performance without communication with the audience is a performance without an audience, and such a performance is not complete. Pondering and feeling more deeply and putting together a performance is the most basic courtesy to the audience who has taken the time to come and see the performance.
A month ago, I gave my last performance under the name “Active.” It was my last performance before retirement, so I prepared myself as best I could, but my nerves were at their peak just before I went on stage. To make matters worse, I couldn’t stop coughing, and my throat was in terrible condition. While the guitar and bass were tuning the notes, I could hear my heartbeat. The countless worries, conflicts, and efforts I had with the club while preparing for the performance flashed before my eyes. The long hours spent preparing for this short moment of communication, which lasted less than 30 minutes, heightened the tension. However, as the lips opened firmly with the beat of the drum and the microphone, the tremors caused by the tension turned into tremors of joy along with the music that resonated throughout the concert hall. The tremors on the stage were transmitted to the audience through the music. As an actor who performs music, I played a song, and the audience, who responded to the music and shook their bodies, sent shivers to the stage again. The words “I prepared this to share a story that you and I can relate to” may have been unnecessary.
After the performance, the audience’s reaction, “It was like listening to my story,” showed that my concern about creating a performance for communication was not wrong. The tremors of excitement that shook my heart were transmitted through the microphone, and I am sure that the audience also responded to this tremor.
Someone might ask me, “Is it necessary for a small university band to think about something so deep while performing?” I would answer, “Yes.” I am not a person who shows off my skills alone, whether I am a professional or an amateur. I am a performer. A performer is a person who creates a performance. A performance is a space filled with songs that I empathize with, songs that I want to share, stories that many people empathize with, and stories that I want to share. And in the performance, there are “me,” “the audience,” and “we.” The performer delivers the music on stage, and the audience responds with their applause below. That space is the place of communication, and if any of us can recall the performance while lying in bed at night, then my communication has succeeded.
