The Standing Ovation

I went for a play this evening at the end of which the cast and crew were treated to a standing ovation—something which seems to me to have become so commonplace nowadays in this city as to have lost its meaning of genuine appreciation. I think I’ve witnessed it at every performance, regardless of merit, that I have been to in the last three years, leading me therefore to speculate on this phenomenon of The Standing Ovation:

(a) I believe that among the first set of people who stand up, for many it is an automatic Pavlovian reaction: the moment they see the cast assemble on-stage to take the final bow, they spring from their seats. For some it is one more thing to talk about; perhaps it gives the feeling of having participated than having been merely a passive spectator. Others have been waiting for an excuse to stretch their legs (the post-Independence generations are far more restless than the ones that came before them).

(b) After the first few people have stood up the rest follow primarily because of the herd instinct in us. The great invisible intangible yet very real social pressure to conform takes over and we’d feel embarrassed and very silly if we keep sitting while everyone all around us is standing. I’d be lying if I deny that this isn’t one of the reasons why I stand up.

But the main reason why I get off my butt is because—dammit! The rest of you are blocking my view. How am I to see what’s going on up there if I don’t stand up?

I do take a stand however by not clapping if I didn’t like the performance.