Challenge
Embrace patrons’ attachment to their mobile devices.
Plan
Allow phones to stay on; create a killer hashtag.
What Worked
Confining tweeters to the back row; reaping the benefits of online feedback and publicity.
What Didn’t
Spotty cell reception, missing key plot points and skepticism in the wider theatre community.
What’s Next
Will Tweet Seats become a growing trend?
Remember the Dark Ages? When the glow of cell phones didn’t dot cinemas and theatres? That time, not so long ago, when “texting” wasn’t a verb and “tweeting” referred to the sounds birds make? When phones weren’t smart but (sometimes) their users were? When just hearing someone talk at a performance was disturbance enough?
The pre-curtain speech instructing patrons to turn cell phones off has become a ritual. But some arts organizations around the country are changing that speech from time to time to allow audience members to tweet during live performances. Goodspeed Musicals in Connecticut, the Dayton Opera in Ohio, the Shakespeare Festival of St. Louis, the Carolina Ballet in Raleigh, N.C., the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra and New York City’s Public Theater are among these trailblazers. But is tweeting during performances a desperate measure to engage audiences—or a clever way to embrace that technology and ignite interest in nontraditional theatregoers?
Rick Dildine, executive director at the Shakespeare Festival of St. Louis, recalls being impressed by the Tweet Seats program at Writers’ Theatre of Glencoe, Ill., which lets patrons know via Twitter about discount codes for last-minute single seats, but does not allow for tweeting during performances. In 2009 when Dildine joined SFSL—which boasts a nightly audience of 3,000 during the summer months—he and his social media manager set out to implement Twitter use in a different way.
SFSL performances happen in a large glen of St. Louis’s Forest Park. Attendance is free, but 200 seats are reserved for donors and patrons who want to rent a chair. Dildine and his team decided to dedicate a row for tweeters during performances, encouraging them to use the hashtag #intheglenn. “We trust our product, that’s key,” Dildine says, adding that it’s essential tweeters sit in the back row so that they are of minimal distraction to other ticket-holders. “Honestly, I am more worried about seals barking from the zoo or planes flying overhead!” Dildine says with a laugh about the outdoor space. Tweeters are provided with scripts so they can quote the Bard with accuracy. “When we did Hamlet, the tweets were so fun: ‘Run, Ophelia! Don’t talk to this guy!’ I often use tweets as a launch pad for talkbacks,” asserts Dildine, adding that quoted audience tweets have made their way into official SFSL press releases and annual reports. “The STL Index, our local branding company, recently rated us the most influential arts organization in St. Louis,” he adds.
Obviously, audience members tweeting during a performance is not ideal for all theatrical venues. For example, Writers’ Theatre plans to keep all of its seats, included the discounted ones it publicizes on Twitter, offline during performances. Says executive director Kathryn M. Lipuma, “We have 108 seats and 6 rows. The actors can hear when an audience member is breathing heavily. Tweeting in our space would be too distracting.” Moreover, Lipuma likens theatre to her personal church, a sacred place in the modern era, a space to leave the world behind. “We even encourage our actors to leave their phones in their bags while rehearsing,” she says. “Of course I want people to talk about our productions—but in our lobby during intermission or after the show.” The motto of Writers’ Theatre is “lean forward and engage,” which can be tough to adhere to when your thumbs are tapping out 140 characters.
Peter Eramo Jr. of Virginia’s Signature Theatre says he and his publicity team embrace social media to promote their shows, but he is also skeptical of Twitter use during performances. “Does it have to be that immediate?” he sighs. “I don’t mean to sound snarky, but if someone tweets how amazing Hairspray is during the first act, is someone else really going to come rushing to the theatre during the show?” And what about plot points? If a ticket-holder is tweeting about a scene he just saw, isn’t he ostensibly missing the present action on stage?
For Elisa Hale, public relations manager at Goodspeed Musicals, missing a plot point here or there is a risk she’s willing to take. “We’ve only used Twitter in a performance once,” she says, referring to Hello! My Baby, which bowed at Goodspeed’s Norma Terris Theatre in November and will receive a production at the Rubicon Theatre Company in California next month. “But I think we’ll definitely be doing it again,” she says. The Rubicon recently began implementing a Tweet Seat night, starting with Ted Neely & the Little Big Band in January.
While Goodspeed’s Opera House attracts an older audience fond of revivals, the theatre’s Norma Terris space is devoted to the development of new musicals. These shows usually receive a four-week run and often the librettist and composer will stay on to make changes throughout. “We rely heavily on audience feedback,” Hale says, “I see Tweet Seats as a way of building new audiences. Tweeting is another word of mouth.” Moreover, Hello! My Baby composer Georgia Stitt had returned to the West Coast during the show’s final week, but she was able to chime in on Twitter. Hale cautions theatres interested in making Tweet Seats sections to test the areas in the theatre where tweeting will take place. “Our back row has spotty reception,” she admits. Hale also advises holding a multidepartmental meeting so that the sound and electric departments can help troubleshoot issues of bandwidth and wireless microphone interference.
But what about the distraction of having a row aglow with cell phones? “I always say if you’re enjoying the show, you’re not looking behind you!” declares Hale, describing how Goodspeed handed out a tweeting etiquette guide, covering the basics of dimming screens and following the same thread (#hmbmusical). “In an age when everyone is attached to their devices, you don’t say, ‘You can’t use them,’” Hale reasons. “You embrace this as another way of encouraging conversation about the communal experience that theatre is.”
Dildine is also keen on Twitter’s immediacy. “It’s the first place people go when they want to complain,” he says. When some audience members at SFSL were talking loudly, tweeters took note, and Dildine was immediately able to address the issue. “I’m always shocked when people make fun of Twitter because they don’t know enough about it. Of course there will be mishaps with something like Tweet Seats—but you find a way around it or stop using it.”
New York City’s Public Theater has started to dip its toe into Tweet Seats. A recent show, God Squad’s Kitchen (You’ve Never Had It So Good), welcomed tweeters one evening in January, due to the show’s audience-participation elements. The idea first came up for Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, a hit with young audiences. Ultimately the artistic team decided to allow drinking in the theatre, but not tweeting. “It’s not appropriate for every show,” says the Public’s director of marketing Nella Vera. “It’s up to the creative team if they want to allow it.” The theatre’s first tweet assay was instead a promotion called “So You Think You Can Tweet?” which sent out a call for tweeters keen on reporting from the red carpet of a Shakespeare in the Park event. “We asked people to apply and give us their name and handle so that we could follow them for a month. We wanted people who are real tweeters,” says Vera. (Goodspeed’s Hale is also considering a screening process to eventually create a team of Goodspeed tweeting ambassadors.)
And what about using Tweet Seats in Joe’s Pub, the Public’s cabaret space? “Oh, people are tweeting and taking photos there already,” says Vera. “We did a Darren Criss surprise concert. We announced it at 11 a.m., the concert was at 2 p.m., and videos were up by, like, 3:30 p.m.”
Some institutions will likely remain purists. The Alamo Drafthouse Cinema chain in Texas has a zero-tolerance policy for phones, and recently eighty-sixed a customer who refused to put hers away. The incensed moviegoer left a voicemail full of colorful language and creative grammar, which the theatre used to comedic effect in a PSA warning customers not to use their phones in the theatre. “The issue is black and white to me,” says Alamo CEO Tim League. “Whether it’s a live performance or a film, you’re there to get lost in the story and let it wash over you. Using Twitter during a show seems like an act of desperation to me.” He pauses. “Wait a minute. Before I get caught being a hypocrite, I have to say, we do offer a show called HeckleVision. We show a bad movie and your texts appear on screen. But it’s advertised that way. And it’s a communal experience.”
