Last week, Martin Kettle complained about the ticketing policy of a concert I'm in at the Barbican next year. Musicians and singers don't usually get involved in these logistics. In general, as a performer, I feel most pleased if the audiences at my concerts are a mix of the new and the familiar (and audiences shouldn't forget how important they are in stimulating the artists's creative juices: loyal audiences are crucial).
In a small hall one is particularly anxious to avoid a sense of exclusive clubbiness, and this can be done in various ways - holding tickets back for sale on the day, limiting sales to friends and sponsors so that others get a look-in, and putting on a repeat performance to accommodate this.
One also has to address the fact that stability, a sense of community, and adventurousness in programming, is underwritten in many cities in Europe, America and Asia by the good old subscription system dating back to the earliest public concerts in the 18th century. What you want to avoid is the situation at many of Handel's opera performances, heavily sponsored by the nobility but often more than not 50% empty in really quite small houses.
All this is debatable. In the case of this particular recital, it's part of an extensive residency at the Barbican, nine events which I've been lucky enough to programme, from opera to community project, stretching across a calendar year, hence across two seasons and the unusually early lead-time for ticket sales. And since the Barbican is a biggish, though in my experience a very intimate, hall, I don't think anyone should be feeling excluded. Roll up, roll up...
