I have just come from my third experience of watching productions from London’s Royal National Theatre, screened more or less live to cinemas around the world. This time it was Haytner’s new production of Hamlet – a work that has been in the repertoire now for over 400 years, like much of the repertoire I perform regularly with orchestras and singers. Next door, a performance of Verdi’s Don Carlos was being shown from New York’s Metropolitan Opera. What interests me is the appeal of this way of seeing theatre, or should I say live performance, not live. Both my partner and I agreed that it was a superlative production with a fine Hamlet and a particularly fine Gertrude (my favourite role) but it did in the end leave us cold. We were not involved with the production because we were not physically in the same space as the actors. Audiences make theatre work, and the coughing, rustling of lolly wrappers and collective laughter, shock, applause and disappointment are what drive the experience.  Every performance is dangerous and different, and this is what creates the buzz as the lights dim and the first words are spoken or the first notes are played. There is a mystery about theatre that we all know from our own experience – some nights are great and others are ordinary. But it is the bond between the actor in a space and the involved observer that is crucial. That is why in the end, as wonderful as it is to see these productions, it is a bit of an academic exercise compared to the visceral nature of actually being there.

But this leads me to understand now why people flock to the Domain in Sydney for the Sydney Symphony, Opera Australia and a host of other events of this nature. We know that the sound doesn’t compare well to the concert hall or even a good sound system. There is no reserved seating so you have to fight for your bit of turf and the ground is generally hard and at times, uncomfortably moist. But the music is happening live and it is happening for you. I have never understood why people pay a fortune to see say a Kylie concert in a big arena, miles from the stage and often running the risk of industrial deafness, but the experience from the National Theatre Live series does shed some light on the matter. You can read a book on a kindle, an iPad or your computer but there is still something about a book. The same is true for any time of artistic experience. Whether it is standing room, in a park or a massive arena, the artist has turned up for you and the performance’s success is dependant on your active participation. I think this is what we need to push with the arts more and more. It is not passive and it only happens if you turn up. Go and see something live today in a park, a theatre, a concert hall or your local town hall.