In 2012 my new year’s resolutions included going to more live performance.  Not simply theatre:  it’s probably obvious that my addiction to live theatre is chronic and acute, thank God.  I made an effort to go to music events, of all sorts – to try out a bit of folk, jazz, classical, opera, and take advantage of having teenage children to listen to some of the fantastic music they enjoyed.

Like writing this blog (another 2012 resolution), this concert-going became an ongoing feature, rather than a one-year experiment.  And a couple of excellent events recently have made me think about why my evangelical enthusiasm for live performance has become quite so fervent.

For a start, it is only during a live performance that the musicians’ creative interdependence is made visible:  it is possible, quite literally, to see them making music.  Not just playing or singing the notes, but working and blending together, uniquely at each changing moment.  And, obvious though it is to say it, every performance is new and real and different:  we are present at something which hasn’t happened before and will not happen again.  Not exactly the same.

Sometimes, there is the joy of the unexpected discovery.  A few months ago, I went to a performance by Phil Beer, on a friend’s recommendation.  He was great – but was, for me, eclipsed by the support act.  This was Miranda Sykes and Rex Preston   .  A female double bass player with a wonderful voice – true, sweet and clear, plus a virtuoso mandolin player.  Together, believe me, their voices are utterly beautiful.  I will undoubtedly go and see them perform again.

One factor which is unrepeatable during a live performance is the audience.  Not just hugely lucky recipients, we also contribute to it and create the event for each other.  I recently went to a performance of La Traviata at English National Opera.  I’m not an opera buff, sadly, but was overwhelmed by the Zeffirelli film version in the 1980s, then bought and loved the LP soundtrack.  I had never seen the work live, I was in London for the day, it was being performed, and I got a cheap standby ticket.  I found myself sitting next to an elderly German lady who said she came as often as she possibly could to ENO – her budget just stretching to standby tickets – because she simply loved it.  We sat together, completely absorbed, and during the tragic final scenes I was further moved to  hear her softly weeping.  At the end, she thanked me for sitting so silently and listening with such concentration. We had made the occasion so much more enjoyable for each other.

And sometimes things just come together for a perfect night.  Last Thursday saw the whole family at the Forum in London to hear Frank Turner.  I have blogged about Frank Turner before:  his music is a burst of pure energy and his lyrics are intelligent and allusive.  In addition, he is perhaps the archetype of the live performer.   Working phenomenally hard, he seems to spend his entire time on the road.  As a result it feels as if he connects personally with his (fast increasing number of) fans because he travels to perform for them.  Each gig is a celebration, not just of his music, but of the encounter taking place “right here, right now”.   We are exhorted to participate – to join in, to sing, to dance.  It’s absorbing, liberating, intensely life-affirming and hugely good fun.  At the end of a concert he thanks the stage crew, the band and, charmingly, the audience for being  “on backing vocals”. Our pleasure, Frank.  Any time.