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Why clap? Why not buzz like a bee? Why clap? Why not buzz like a bee?
(4 months later)
Clapping, scientists at Uppsala University in Sweden have reported, is a form of "social contagion". What you're clapping, apparently, is not as important as joining in with the people clapping all round you. "The cessation of applause is similarly socially mediated," say the scientists, "but is to a lesser degree controlled by the reluctance of individuals to clap too many times."Clapping, scientists at Uppsala University in Sweden have reported, is a form of "social contagion". What you're clapping, apparently, is not as important as joining in with the people clapping all round you. "The cessation of applause is similarly socially mediated," say the scientists, "but is to a lesser degree controlled by the reluctance of individuals to clap too many times."
Well, we can all quibble with this. Some might feel that "social contagion" is not an especially happy choice of phrase for what can mark a pleasurable experience, and is all the more disappointing coming from the land of Abba. Others may point to those smartarses whose chief aim is to get their applause in first to show they know the music's over while you're still nervously deciding, or even enjoying the moment of silence. For my part, I note that the performances used for research were "academic presentations", which, with the best will in the world, is neither the Berlin Philharmonic nor Mrs Brown's Boys, and might also conceivably explain "the reluctance of individuals to clap too many times".Well, we can all quibble with this. Some might feel that "social contagion" is not an especially happy choice of phrase for what can mark a pleasurable experience, and is all the more disappointing coming from the land of Abba. Others may point to those smartarses whose chief aim is to get their applause in first to show they know the music's over while you're still nervously deciding, or even enjoying the moment of silence. For my part, I note that the performances used for research were "academic presentations", which, with the best will in the world, is neither the Berlin Philharmonic nor Mrs Brown's Boys, and might also conceivably explain "the reluctance of individuals to clap too many times".
Why, though, do we clap at all? The anthropological work seems so far to have failed to pinpoint the origin beyond very early, but my surmise would involve a typically showy storyteller round the fire on a winter's night confusing attempts to keep warm with high approval. Certainly clapping has been used since biblical times to show both appreciation and disdain. Contrast this text from the Bible, 2 Kings, "And they clapped their hands and said, 'Long live the king!'", with this report on Job, who had clearly not gone down well: "Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place."Why, though, do we clap at all? The anthropological work seems so far to have failed to pinpoint the origin beyond very early, but my surmise would involve a typically showy storyteller round the fire on a winter's night confusing attempts to keep warm with high approval. Certainly clapping has been used since biblical times to show both appreciation and disdain. Contrast this text from the Bible, 2 Kings, "And they clapped their hands and said, 'Long live the king!'", with this report on Job, who had clearly not gone down well: "Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place."
Clapping was popular in Rome, where it joined clicking fingers and waving handkerchiefs in expressing subtly gradated appreciation, and could be produced either with flat hands, or, if really wowed, cupped in imitation of Rome's roof tiles. It was also far more widespread, featuring both in court and churches (although Paul of Samosata, bishop of Antioch, preferred the fluttering hankies) and was cheerfully manipulated, a practice that has long continued through the claque – the professional applauders perfected in France – to the television floor manager who indicates when the audience should applaud.Clapping was popular in Rome, where it joined clicking fingers and waving handkerchiefs in expressing subtly gradated appreciation, and could be produced either with flat hands, or, if really wowed, cupped in imitation of Rome's roof tiles. It was also far more widespread, featuring both in court and churches (although Paul of Samosata, bishop of Antioch, preferred the fluttering hankies) and was cheerfully manipulated, a practice that has long continued through the claque – the professional applauders perfected in France – to the television floor manager who indicates when the audience should applaud.
Here, the practice has slowly been eroded and curtailed, although it was never popular at the Glasgow Empire (when Morecambe and Wise, early in their career, walked off to complete silence rather than the boos earlier in the week, a stagehand commented: "I think they're beginning to like you"). The House of Commons frowns on it. Victorians disallowed it in church, and, if you really want to be embarrassed, try it between movements at a classical concert and wait for said smart arses.Here, the practice has slowly been eroded and curtailed, although it was never popular at the Glasgow Empire (when Morecambe and Wise, early in their career, walked off to complete silence rather than the boos earlier in the week, a stagehand commented: "I think they're beginning to like you"). The House of Commons frowns on it. Victorians disallowed it in church, and, if you really want to be embarrassed, try it between movements at a classical concert and wait for said smart arses.
There have been some signs of reinvigoration: the minute's applause at football grounds for favoured passings should surely be applauded. There are those who object to celebrities clapping themselves, but this, too, has a noble pedigree. I've always liked the tale of Eric Maschwitz, lyricist of A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, leading the applause at the back of the stalls for the first night of one of his musicals, shouting "Author! Author!", then rushing up to take a bow on stage.There have been some signs of reinvigoration: the minute's applause at football grounds for favoured passings should surely be applauded. There are those who object to celebrities clapping themselves, but this, too, has a noble pedigree. I've always liked the tale of Eric Maschwitz, lyricist of A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, leading the applause at the back of the stalls for the first night of one of his musicals, shouting "Author! Author!", then rushing up to take a bow on stage.
All in all, though, I feel clapping now struggles a bit in a world of social media methods of approbation. Gone for ever, probably for the best, is the world of Hughie Green, Opportunity Knocks, and the Clap-o-meter, contained within a wooden box and measuring, approximately, audience reaction. The connection with the tambourine is also unhelpful. I find, too, and I'm sure I'm not alone, that clapping is quite painful over protracted periods. An alternative suggestion, then, would take us back to ancient Alexandria, and a substitute that so impressed Nero he introduced it back home: to make a buzzing sound like bees. It would certainly make a change. Or what about the vuvuzela?All in all, though, I feel clapping now struggles a bit in a world of social media methods of approbation. Gone for ever, probably for the best, is the world of Hughie Green, Opportunity Knocks, and the Clap-o-meter, contained within a wooden box and measuring, approximately, audience reaction. The connection with the tambourine is also unhelpful. I find, too, and I'm sure I'm not alone, that clapping is quite painful over protracted periods. An alternative suggestion, then, would take us back to ancient Alexandria, and a substitute that so impressed Nero he introduced it back home: to make a buzzing sound like bees. It would certainly make a change. Or what about the vuvuzela?
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