What is it with screens and shutting out the rest of us?
About fifteen years ago, I visited my aunt after she had moved to a different hospital. I just needed to know where she was on the ward because there were several different sections.
So I approached the reception desk, where a nurse was looking at a screen. I stood close enough for her to notice me, but nothing happened. And nothing continued to happen for several minutes. Whatever was on that screen was clearly more important than me.
I’m sure she was busy with something necessary, but I remember being struck by how much the situation had changed. There had been a time when the person behind the desk would immediately look up, make eye contact and ask how they could help. Now I was standing inches away from another human who was somehow not quite there.
I think that was one of the first times I realised that screens alter situations and, of course, mobile phones have taken that much further.
I’m as guilty as anyone. My long-suffering wife lets me know, I assure you. I’m not interested in ranting about screens. We need them. They are useful, entertaining and often essential. But they do make it very easy to stop noticing what is going on around us.
There’s an old saying: chimney pots, not gutters. In other words, look up. See what is around you rather than constantly looking down. It’s easier said than done.
One way I deal with it is by taking myself for a walk every day. I love walking in the forest and noticing how sunlight catches the trees or moves across the water. Once you start looking properly, there is always something happening.
This matters to performers. Acting, singing and dancing all require young people to notice other people. What is someone doing? How are they standing? What expression is on their face? Has the energy in the room changed? Are they really listening, or simply waiting for their turn? Performers have to look up because performance is connecting with other people. You cannot really act with someone if you are not seeing them. You cannot be part of an ensemble if you are unaware of everyone else. In dance and music, you need to feel what is happening around you.
Perhaps that is one of the quiet benefits of performing arts. For a while, you have to put the outside world away and be present with real people in a real space. So I’m not suggesting we throw away our screens. I won’t be throwing away mine, but I am going to keep trying to look up.
You never know what you might notice — or who.
