The other day we attended a music recital at one of our larger halls. The quintet of chamber soloists that was to perform had come from abroad. Each member of the quintet had an enviable reputation and we looked forward to an evening of good music. We were not disappointed, but, as I looked around, I could not help wondering whether the musicians were. What they faced, as they took up their positions, was a sea of empty seats. There were not more than 50 of us in that large hall, and scattered, as we were, here and there, there seemed to be even fewer. As those of us there cringed in embarrassment at the poor showing we made, we just hoped that the darkened hall would hide the empty seats from the musicians.

Western classical music does not draw enormous crowds. In addition, it had been raining heavily, and on the day in question, Mamata Banerjee had threatened to stop traffic, though both the rain and the road roko had been earlier in the day. These reasons could have explained the hall not being filled to capacity, but in no way could it justify the ultra-sparse sprinkling of people who attended the show.

So why was the hall so empty? I cannot swear to it, but I suspect that the reason was the handing out of invitations. No advertising had preceded the event, and no tickets were sold. Instead, cards were given out, presumably, less to music lovers than to VIPs, which they, in turn, probably threw into the nearest wastepaper basket.

I remember many years ago attending a music recital by M.S. Subbalakshmi. On that occasion tickets were sold ? and sold out. Many in the long queues had to return disappointed. Yet as the hall filled up, it became apparent that the first 10 rows or so were to remain empty. They had been reserved for VIPs who had received complimentary passes that had, as usual, found their way to the nearest wastepaper baskets. While the gallery upstairs, and the rest of the hall, was full, what immediately confronted the singer must have been row upon row of empty seats.

I sometimes wonder whether we are unique in our custom of handing out complimentary tickets. I suspect that organisers of shows feel that sponsors expect free tickets, and hence, feel duty-bound to cater to their wishes. But is there no way in which sponsors can be asked how many passes they actually require? And likewise, VIPs? And if a show is entirely by invitation (read ‘free’), does it not make sense to advertise where such ‘invitations’ can be picked up? The very fact that some effort has to be put into obtaining these passes will ensure that they are used. Nothing, after all, is more disheartening to performers than a series of empty seats.