Tales from the Pit A freshman's take on being involved in the Harvard arts scene.
By SARAH ROSENTHAL
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a violist, I’m used to being far from the center of attention in ensemble musical performances. As a member of a pit orchestra in a musical, I can expect even less. Having played in the band accompanying Spring Awakening last semester in the Oberon and the recent production of Sunday in the Park with George in the Loeb, I have gained such an appreciation not only for the work put into the pit, but also for the unique experience made available through a musical, participatory approach to watching a theatrical performance. Perhaps it’s because both of these shows have arguably nontraditional, exceptional scores, but while participating in them, I found myself enjoying the shows more than I did when I was just an audience s
member. For one thing, while listening attentively for cues and attempting to watch as much of the show as possible, a member of the pit becomes extremely familiar with the action on stage. The other players and I found ourselves anticipating favorite lines and moments every night (as in Sunday, when the character Louis said, “Cream puffs!”), and could recite by heart, and in the styles of each actor, entire scenes. Of course, the fact that we in the pit can see very little of the action taking place in stage leads us to focus on the storytelling from a mostly aural perspective. Our familiarity with the score and our heightened awareness of the underlying musical motifs adds tremendously to narrative primarily communicated through
lyrics. But a typical audience member does not have the luxury of listening for harmonics or noticing when, exactly, the strings join the piano with pizzicato. These details, which to the pit are as important as a set piece is to the audience, go largely unnoticed. That is not to say that the musicians have a better understanding of the show overall than any audience member, but it does bring up an important point as to the role of the spectator vs. that of the artist or performer. The spectator can’t be expected to absorb as much of what goes on at any one time because he or she is expected to focus on the visible action. If the orchestra weren’t literally playing in a pit or in the darkness off to the side of the stage, then the instrumental aspects of the musical
would take on a new importance. Perhaps modern theater sees a visible orchestra as too distracting, but it would enhance the viewer’s overall appreciation, understanding, and personal interest in the show. Recent successful Broadway revivals of Company and Sweeney Todd featured actors themselves playing the orchestral accompaniment to the stage action. I don’t expect Harvard productions to follow this ambitious route anytime soon, but I would like to see more awareness of the ways in which an orchestra, sitting in a pit or not, is more than just a side-note. Sarah Rosenthal ’15 (srosenthal@college) will never watch a musical the same way again.
Not Such a Fest A reflection of this year's YardFest.
By CURTIS LAHAIE
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hroughout the late afternoon
and early evening of April 15th, students from across Harvard’s campus gathered in Tercentenary Theater for YardFest, the annual spring concert organized by the College Events Board. In front of the steps of Memorial Church students played with beach balls and tire swings, eating better-than-normal hamburgers, pasta, and corndogs served by HUDS. Licking popsicles and soaking up the sun, students enjoyed themselves — at least before the music started. Of course, the main attraction of YardFest was not the beach balls or the food, but rather the live music that we don’t find in Harvard’s common spaces often enough. This year, the concert featured musical artists The The Harvard Independent • 04.19.12
Nostalgics, Das Racist, 3LAU, and The Cataracs. You’re probably wondering who those artists are, much like I was. Das Racist? 3LAU? Although you might have heard “It’s the Cataracs” played at the beginning of hits such as “Like a G6,” “Bass Down Low,” or “Backseat,” you probably don’t think of the Cataracs when you think of those songs. Instead, Far East Movement, Dev, and New Boyz probably come to mind. Unlike the Cataracs, these artists have the fame that can get a crowd excited. (And last year, when Far East Movement came to YardFest, “Like a G6” actually did get the crowd excited.) That the headliner of this year’s YardFest is known primarily as a featured artist, famous for few of its
own songs, took a toll on the mood of the crowd. Unfortunately, the beach balls, tire swings, and popsicles could only keep students entertained for so long. Everyone stood in Tercentenary Theater expecting a strong musical performance, hoping for something that would make the day even better. Unfortunately, that’s not what the audience received. Last year, I was a pre-frosh myself, and luckily Yardfest coincided with Visitas weekend. Instead of the Cataracs, the Far East Movement’s opening acts were White Panda and Sam Adams, all three much more recognizable names than anything played this year. Probably in part because of Visitas, the attendance at last year’s Yardfest was visibly larger than this year’s. Beyond the
attendance, students’ spirits last year were also visibly higher. Last year, attendees actually seemed into the music, jumping and dancing with much more excitement. Despite the comparatively lackluster performance at this year’s YardFest, my decision to attend Harvard had nothing to do with some spring concert. Although Harvard should take a lesson from UPenn, whose spring concert featured Tiesto and Passion Pit, or Yale, whose Spring Fling will also host Passion Pit, Harvard makes up for its lackluster spring concert in just about every other realm. Curtis Lahaie ’15 (clahaie@college) is hoping next year is better, for every prefrosh’s sake.
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