Keep Your Feet In And Don't Flinch

When you're sat close enough to see the bruises on a dancer's feet or the sweat pouring off their faces, you get a new appreciation for the sheer effort that goes into this kind of thing. Muscular, energetic dance like this isn't a career option for those with a low pain threshold; my seat frequently reverberated to the impact of bodies intentionally thwacking the floor.

Sitting in the round - or, to be pedantic, in the square - requires something of the audience too. Rule One: keep your feet in, because no dancer wants to be sent sprawling by your untidy limbs. Rule Two: don't flinch, even when the entire company is pelting towards you from the other side of the stage and won't stop until they can see the whites of your eyes.

Plus, in the darkness of a conventional auditorium, you're far less aware of what you or other audience members are doing. Last night, I noticed how self-conscious I felt about making any movement at all, as well as how distracted I was by the woman opposite me who spent most of the performance with the programme covering her face (perhaps to block out whatever distracting movements I was making back on the other side).

Is there an unspoken audience 'contract'? Should you expect the price of entry to include some obligation on your part, either that you'll sit still and not pull faces or, as with Lollipops, you'll be prepared to suggestively lick a lollipop or relinquish your shoes?

On that note, I promise not to slouch in my seat tonight so as not to distract the Kirov ballerinas with my shockingly undisciplined posture . . .