The telephone game of online performances.

Published on 9 October 2024 at 09:45

22.12.2021.

 

It is a typical Friday afternoon – practicing for a couple of hours, then rehearsing with my trio for our upcoming concert on Monday which eventually morphs into a much-needed creative discussion about our future projects, unpredictable covid restrictions and – most importantly – if we should wear matching outfits for the performance. All of us are blissfully unaware of what is to come although it is not our first live-streamed concert. We soon receive an unexpected call from the manager of the event and that is where the fun begins – he wants us to visit the venue, meet with the sound engineers and decide on the scenario for the event. This itself is not an unexpected request – after some very unfortunate experiences in the past, we very much prefer to have a clear plan of the event beforehand. The fact he wants us to meet three days prior the event is a bit unusual. I wonder if the sound engineers and camera crew also will be there and I suspect, they will not. Once we arrive at the venue, we meet the event manager – a very energetic man in his early twenties, clearly very serious and with zero experience. We decide to give him the benefit of the doubt and follow his lead to the stage. He wants to know how we want the stage to be set up, what microphones we want to use, the scenario of the event up to the millisecond and many other things which, although important, could be discussed over the phone. We give him all the information we possibly can, but when it is our time to ask questions – about the sound, lights and other factors that could influence the quality of the performance – as I predicted, he announces that sound and light people will be here on Monday before our concert and then we can discuss everything with them. So basically, at this point the only aspect we have agreed on is that the piano should be in the center of the stage and preferably tuned.  

Monday comes and we are back at the venue for the sound and light check. As I already predicted, piano is still in the corner of the stage (the manager insists on keeping it there because it will look “interesting” on the camera). After a long discussion, the piano travels to its rightful place in the center of the stage and then the real “fun” begins. I notice that there are no microphone stands anywhere and the sound check should start in 5 minutes. I find the sound engineer and very carefully ask about the microphones. He seems offended by my lack of trust in his professional abilities, which is probably justified, so I return to the stage and hope for the microphones to appear. Next surprise comes when the member of the filming crew announces that our music stands should be no higher than our waists. We try to explain that we would be very happy if we could actually see the music, if we want this concert to happen, so the stands will have to be as high as it is comfortable for us. I understand that we all have different priorities here – we, musicians, are more concerned about the quality of the performance which means we need to be comfortable – we have to see the score, each other, not to be blinded by the lights, or put in the awkward places for the benefit of the good camera view. Camera crews’ and sound engineers’ main concern is obviously the visual and audial part of the event, which is important, I agree, so we have to find the middle ground, because we cannot exist without each other in this situation.  

The sound engineer finally makes his entrance holding two little microphone-like objects and happily approaches me and the flautist. I am still hoping to see a microphone stand, but apparently the sound god of this venue has different idea in mind. He very enthusiastically tries to attach the microphone to my violin, telling me that it will look so much better without the stands in the picture. I have to admit, I could never imagine a professional sound engineer would suggest something like this and try to decline as politely as I can. Thankfully, he does not seem to care enough to argue, and we finally get our stands. However, he insists on placing it behind me despite my warning that I will most likely hit the microphone with my bow.  

After all this hopefully intelligent exchange of words, we can finally begin our sound check. Thankfully, the sound samples they play back to us are surprisingly good, so we feel like everything is sorted. There are still slight issues with the light – we get shadows from our instruments on the score and some lights are still a bit too bright and therefore uncomfortable, but we decide to leave it as it is and get ready for the performance. 

The narrator of the even arrives and we go through the questions and answers quickly. Since it is a live- streamed even, we would really like to avoid any awkwardness in the interviews, because it is hard enough as it is to alternate between playing and talking, at least for me. We still need to put on a ton of makeup – the last couple of live-streamed concerts and not very flattering close-ups have finally convinced us that professional make-up is an absolute necessity. 

The concerts begins and we try our best to think about the audience behind the camera, because we know it is there, although all we see are three cameras and a couple of sleepy camera operators. I feel a bit uncomfortable because I have to stand behind the pianist, much further than I usually stand and I do not hear her very well. That causes me to almost miss my entrance, but I manage to catch her. The flautist seems as uncomfortable as me, but I know it will pass after a little while and we will get used to the stage set up. Of course, I hit the microphone at least three times with my bow and I see the sound engineers wincing every time, but I warned him this will happen, so I do not feel very guilty about it. As we go through the concert, the nerves settle, and we even manage to have fun. Of course, nothing goes as planned and the narrator ask us completely different questions, but at this point we actually use the moments we are not being filmed to laugh about all the mishaps. The only concern that still lingers is the fact we do not know what the audience hears and sees on the other side of the screen. 

After the live stream is done, I immediately turn on my phone and find a dozen of messages, all saying it sounded good and my dress was amazing. What more can I wish for? I immediately try to catch some moments of the concert on Facebook just to make sure the sound quality was decent. I notice that the sound is not perfectly synchronized, but otherwise it all looks and sounds well. Now is the time to let out the breath I was holding.’