The absence of an audience has affected performers of all types and traditions. Before the era of the phonograph, Hindustani classical musicians not only took inspiration from their listeners but also improvised directly in response to their reactions. The exact sound and shape of the performance, then, was determined in part by the interaction of artist and audience. For those who recorded, one way to compensate was to manufacture an audience, planting enthusiastic listeners in the studio. On an acoustic-era recording of Maujuddin Khan, for example, one can hear a few “plants” shouting “Wah! Wah! Maujuddin Khan!” In a more recent example, I myself was an unwitting plant in a recording session for the rock group Rotoglow. After observing from the control room, I was invited to sit in the studio while the band was recording. Squeezed between the lead guitarist and the drummer, I was sure I was a distraction, and after a few songs I volunteered to return to the other side of the glass. To my surprise, the group insisted that I stay. “You’re a part of this, man!” one of them declared. I hardly acted like a typical rock concertgoer—I sat quietly in a chair, my only actions consisting of taking notes and stuffing my ears with wadded toilet paper. Nevertheless, my ____________ must have in some way met the band’s need or desire for an audience.
*improvise: 즉흥 연주를 하다