[Dixielandjazz] The Audience - Redux

[Stephen Barbone]

For those in the USA who follow this show, the below is an interesting
read. I am a fan of the show and the audience reaction. Amazingly, the
voters (audience) seems to have tin ears as they vote to expel some of
the best singers. Hmmmm. Sometime we musicians are accused of belittling
our audience. perhaps this is why.

But be that as it may, the audience rules and we might well study their
behavior in order to develop a rapport.

Cheers,
Steve Barbone

May 23, 2004 NY Times

How 'American Idol' Got Hijacked by Its Viewers

By KATE AURTHUR

     LIKE we needed a reminder that the American electoral system is
flawed. Millions of "American Idol" viewers vote, by phone and by text
message, for their favorite contestants. But this season the votes have
been so capricious, and have pushed the show so far from its stated
purpose — to find the best unknown singer and make him or her a star —
that even the panel of judges has disavowed the results. When La Toya
London, a 25-year-old Anita Baker sound-alike, was voted out of the
competition on May 12, Randy Jackson called it a "travesty." In April,
Simon Cowell, the most outspoken of the show's three judges (who pick
the initial pool of contestants, but do not control the selection of a
winner) told Entertainment Weekly, "I'm over this year." And even Paula
Abdul, the judge who never has a bad word to say, told Ellen DeGeneres
during an interview that she cannot begin to predict who will emerge
victorious on the season's final show, this Wednesday, because "logic is
thrown out the window."

Its two shows a week still get top ratings, but ratings are only part of
the "American Idol" formula. More than a simple talent show, it's
supposed to be the world's most public focus group, a kind of
small-screen test to see which singers play best with the audience.

It's worked in the past. Kelly Clarkson, who won the first season, Ruben
Studdard, who won the second, and even Clay Aiken, whom Mr. Studdard
beat out, all went on to sell many millions of records. But this year,
several outstanding singers who would be an easy fit on commercial radio
— most notably the elegant Ms. London and Jennifer Hudson, a Chicago
native with a gospel style — have been voted off. In their places,
off-pitch warblers have advanced. If the finalists of "American Idol"
aren't talented, then what does that mean for the show's premise? And
its future?

The grumbling about this season began early. The show took too long to
get under way — in order to milk ratings, Fox devoted seemingly endless
hours to the initial auditions from six cities. Worse than the filler it
took to stretch out these episodes was the single-note "Gong Show"-ness
of those early weeks — rather than showcasing the talented kids whom
audiences would want to root for later, producers focused on the worst
of the 70,000 auditions. As a result, William Hung, a shy, awkward
University of California junior who squeaked out Ricky Martin's "She
Bangs" before the mystified judges, has become the first "Idol" of the
season to release a record. That the program is popular enough to create
a famous novelty act is a testament to its power. That so far it has
produced little else also signifies the current lack of focus.

But among the show's fans and observers, the issue that has generated
the most debate this season has been race. Early in the competition, Mr.
Cowell pronounced Ms. Hudson, Ms. London and a woman named Fantasia
Barrino, all of whom are African-American, as the best singers in the
group and predicted that they would be the final three contestants. Then
two of the three were voted off. At the very least, it was proof that
the
judges' bully pulpit was not as formidable as it once had been. But it
also raised the possibility that the show has an unpleasant problem.

Perhaps no one should be shocked that race is as complicated a matter on
"American Idol" as it is in, well, America. Some of the criticism has
been hyperbolic, or at least reductive. According to one racial
conspiracy theory, Ms. London's fall was blamed on the mysterious
popularity of Jasmine Trias. But Ms. Trias, who is Hawaiian, is also a
woman of color — she's Asian-American. As for the judges, they might
have lowered their standards in order to assemble a group with the
widest possible audience appeal. Specifically, they picked John Stevens
and Jon Peter Lewis to be among the pool of contestants. These two cute,
nerdy white boys were out of their league even in the earliest
auditions. Mr. Stevens forgot the words to his song and received a
withering lecture from Mr. Cowell; Mr. Jackson told Mr. Lewis he sounded
"cartoonish." Yet both were chosen for the semifinals. Their value was
clear: they attracted girls, particularly the young girls who are likely
to watch, vote and buy. The fact that Mr. Lewis and Mr. Stevens made it
past the try-outs based solely on their looks might be what caused
"American Idol" to cease being the show it's supposed to be.

But perhaps we should marvel that contestants who were the most talented
but not the most telegenic — be they Mr. Studdard, who weighs well over
300 pounds, or Mr. Aiken, who before an extensive makeover was a skinny
guy with big ears, or Ms. Clarkson, who is cute but not a typical pop
star — ever made it to the finals in the first place. Consider the way
other reality shows have proceeded: "Big Brother" started out letting
viewers decide the fate of contestants, but changed course after a
disastrous first season when anyone with a personality was voted off. In
subsequent seasons, "Big Brother" adopted the elimination method most
common to reality shows — the "Lord of the Flies" ethos pioneered by
"Survivor" in which members of the group must turn against each other.
With "The Apprentice," the producers Mark Burnett and Donald Trump
didn't leave anything to chance — they fired as they pleased based on
what they felt was best for the show. So why should "American Idol"
leave its fate in voters' hands? Who are the voters and what are they
basing their choices on? Are they musical connoisseurs? Are they vicious
racists? Are they inflamed geographical partisans voting for the
hometown hero? Are they 12-year-old girls with a crush?

O.K., I'm one of them and I'm none of those things. But much as when I
go to the polls in November, I'm never sure my vote makes a difference —
particularly when the show's spiky-haired host, Ryan Seacrest, announces
that more than 20 million votes are cast each week. When Ms. Hudson and
Ms. London were bounced far earlier than many seemed to expect, the
judges and host took a stern tone with the audience: keep
calling even if you get a busy signal, they said. If you don't vote you
can't complain, and no contestant is a sure thing. (The idea that
millions of people might simultaneously assume that a given singer is
"safe" and therefore not bother voting is a sociological phenomenon,
like traffic backed up for miles because of rubber-necking, that I hope
someone is studying at some university.)

It hasn't been all bad. This season has had high points of both the
good-bad and genuinely good variety. Watching John Stevens, a
16-year-old kid with an anachronistic Rat Pack voice and demeanor, sing
along with the Miami Sound Machine was funnier than anything on
"Friends" this year. And Ms. Barrino's rendition of "Summertime"
displayed the uncomplicated pleasure that "American Idol" can offer when
it's at its best. Which is not only the chance to hear a great song sung
really well, but the sense that an unknown has become an artist before
your eyes. One of the final three this year, Diana DeGarmo, has
transformed from an overweight, awkward teenager with a rich voice she's
too young to have into a self-possessed performer who has blown everyone
away. That kind of dramatic arc is what makes "American Idol" compelling
— not questions about the show's integrity and ethics.

Reality shows, because they rely on the chemistry among an ever-changing
cast of characters, can have off seasons, and they can also rebound.
Fans of "Survivor" can forget that a dislikable soft-core porn actor
named Brian Heidik won the Thailand game because the next season, which
was set in the Amazon, was so good. But then there's the example of "Joe
Millionaire." Its first incarnation was a commercial and zeitgeist
juggernaut; its next season, a piffle. "American Idol" has only grown in
popularity — between its ratings and the money made from the
contestants' records and tours, there's simply too much at stake for it
to go the way of "Joe Millionaire" any time soon. And since the show's
format is so simple, it would be easy to tinker with the formula for
next time: should there be a personnel change among the judges? Should
the judges have the power to overrule a vote once in a while? Will going
to different cities to search for talent, as they have already announced
they will, yield a better group of singers? If I were Simon Fuller, the
show's creator and executive producer, I would let go of the
old-fashioned notion of phone voting. Since its first year, the program
has been plagued by questions about whether the phone system can handle
the volume of calls; this year, those questions have arisen again. The
magazine Broadcasting & Cable has reported that millions of potential
voters never get through, which Fox denies. Regardless, that viewers are
ever faced with busy signals is absurd: use the Internet. I would also
stop forcing contestants to perform the songs of guest judges, who this
year included the credibility-stretching Barry Manilow and Gloria
Estefan. This tawdry practice limits the competitors' choices and
constrains what the regular judges can say, for fear of insulting the
guest of honor.

It's fixable. But whatever structural changes are made for the fourth
season, the idea that the best singer wins will never again be a matter
of faith. "American Idol" used to exude a sense of pop-cultural justice
— that regardless of appearance or race, all that matters is the voice.
The show has lost its innocence.