Why Do We Clap for That? The Strange, Wonderful Things Theatre Audiences Will Always Applaud

by Chris Peterson

There are certain things theatre audiences will clap for every single time.

It does not matter what show we are watching, how sophisticated we believe our tastes are, or whether the moment has anything to do with the story. Some things happen onstage and our hands apparently start moving on their own.

A kick line is the most obvious example. The second several performers lift their legs at the same time, the audience wakes up. The kicks do not even have to be particularly high. Give us some reasonable synchronization and a big finish, and we will react as though we have never seen legs before.

Tap dancing gets an even bigger response. I understand this one a little more because tap is genuinely difficult, but theatre audiences seem especially impressed by anything fast and loud. The performers could be tap dancing during the least appropriate moment imaginable, and someone would still yell, “Yeah!” from the balcony.

Then there is the sustained note.

A singer can deliver a beautifully acted song, make thoughtful choices, and communicate every bit of the character’s pain. The audience may listen quietly. But once that singer holds a note for several seconds, everybody starts preparing to applaud.

The longer the note lasts, the less we care about anything else. By the time the singer finally cuts it off, we are responding like they just completed a dangerous stunt.

The same rule applies to riffs. A performer adds twelve extra notes to a word, lands somewhere near the intended pitch, and the audience goes wild. I am not criticizing it. I usually clap too. I just find it funny that our standards become surprisingly flexible when somebody sings loudly enough.

Entrance applause is another theatre tradition I have always enjoyed. Sometimes it is for a famous actor, but often we are applauding the character. Dolly Levi walks through the door. Elphaba appears in silhouette. The Phantom shows up in the expected location. We know exactly who it is, and we are excited they made it.

Even local and school productions get these reactions. Somebody’s grandmother will begin applauding before the performer has finished entering, and the rest of the audience will happily join her.

Maybe none of this is strange. Theatre is a live exchange, and audiences want to participate. We cannot pause the show, rewind a song, or tell the performers in the moment that something impressed us. Applause is what we have.

Still, I love that theatre audiences can spend two hours analyzing complicated characters and challenging ideas, then completely lose control because somebody did a high kick.

What is the one thing you will always applaud when you see it onstage?