Tweatre Twaddle

1. "Not twittering is so rude to them (i.e. followers) ... I don't tweet about it, so you miss out"

OK, um, I don't know how important Ms Jamieson is, but I'm not sure that my followers are literally hanging on for my every tweet. This rather suggested to me a somewhat over-inflated opinion of herself and the influence of her tweets. I don't know; perhaps I'm wrong and all her followers really do loll around their Tweetdecks just waiting for her micro-pearls of wisdom. Personally, I would find it far more irritating to have someone tweeting every 30 seconds about a performance that I'd been unable to get tickets to. That's what I'm missing out on, not your tweets. And I don't think that a few hastily composed mid-show tweets are really going to give me any kind of insight on that, sorry. Micro-reviews are all well and good for a few tit-bit sound bites, but you're not exactly going to read one and really feel 'as if you're there'.

2. Twetiquette: "Yes condensing your character analysis into 140 characters will focus your thoughts and heighten your understanding of the play, but going beeeeep beep-beep beeeeep has the opposite effect on your neighbours. So it's silent mode and a hand over the lit-up screen please."

At least there's some understanding of how annoying this could be not only to the performers but also the people around you. However, hasn't she just said that condensing your thoughts into a tweet can help you concentrate more on the play? Switching your phone to silent is easy, of course, but composing something vastly insightful in only 140 characters whilst covering up a screen in just the right place whilst typing with the other hand whilst checking that its within the word limit/you haven't written anything daft takes a heck of a lot of concentration on that action - not the performance - not to mention dexterity. Which brings me to:

3. "Tweeting at the theatre will increase your concentration and improve your experience."

No it won't. Tweeting at the theatre will shift your concentration on to Twitter and improve your experience of Twitter. Not least due to the fact that the practicalities of trying to tweet in a way that isn't entirely inconsiderate (see previous point) whilst being focused on the performance are near impossible, but also due to the dynamic of what happens when you go to the theatre - or indeed interact with other art forms.

So, here comes the abstract metaphysical rant. You have been warned...

As part of my MPhil Literature & The Internet thesis, I got really interested in the dynamic of 'engagement' i.e. how a reader (or an audience) engages with a fiction (particularly in reference to literature on the internet, but relevant to all art forms across all mediums). This engagement is absolutely fundamental to art; without it, it becomes meaningless. There's a certain disorientation from yourself and present life that is necessary - think of the concept of 'getting lost in a good book'. Max Whitby suggests: 'Story-telling and narrative lie at the heart of all successful communication. Explicit button-pushing breaks the spell of engagement and the unfolding of complex information.'* That 'spell of engagement' is, ironically, exactly the unspoken collusion between creators/performers and audience that Jamieson herself mentions: "Part of the magic is that we're all in it together, willing the play to happen. Them on the stage pretending to be other people in other places; us in the seats pretending we believe them. Without this complicity, it's just a bunch of exhibitionists prancing around in front of some chairs."

The spell that art casts is this creation of another reality; another world that exists only momentarily. The joy of art is that it's not the 'real world'. For, say, 2 hours, it's not about you and your thoughts and your 'real life'. You're 'lost' in an imaginary world; which both audience and performers alike implicitly uphold. We are all too aware, whilst tweeting, of an explicit, conscious effort to orientate ourselves; too aware of the conscious process and reality of the here and now; the reality of the present act of watching a play and tweeting about it. I would argue that our engagement in and desire for art is due to its pull away from the conscious present reality. If we're too conscious of trying to find our way in this present world, we won't be able to lose ourselves in another one; which defeats the purpose of all artistic fictions.

* From Keep, C., McLaughlin T., Parmar, R. 'Death of The Author' The Electronic Labyrinth