by Chris Peterson
Good morning. I would like to begin today with a message of solidarity for a very specific group of people: those of us who have paid full price for a theatre ticket only to spend the evening staring directly into the back of someone’s head.
As a short person, I know this experience well. Too well. I have seen many beautiful performances in my life, or at least I assume I have, because for large portions of them I was actually watching the shoulder blades of a very tall person.
Now, before the tall people start sending emails, this is not your fault. You were born. You grew. That is not a crime. Tall people deserve theatre too. We are not asking you to shrink.
But for the rest of us, sitting behind a tall person at a show requires strategy, grace, and a kind of emotional resilience.
First, assess the situation calmly. There is no need to immediately spiral. Sometimes, with a slight lean to the left or right, you can find a clean sightline. This is where the short theatregoer becomes part audience member, part periscope. This is typically why I always try to sit in an aisle seat.
Second, do not punish the tall person for existing. A loud sigh every time they adjust in their seat is not going to help.
If the issue is truly impossible, speak to an usher at intermission. Ushers have seen everything. They may be able to move you, offer a booster cushion(I have used one of these; they exist), or at least give you the look of someone who understands your suffering.
And theatres, since we are here, raked seating is not a luxury. It is a public good.
Theatre is meant to be shared, but ideally with everyone able to see the stage. Until then, short people will continue doing what we have always done: leaning, adjusting, smiling politely, and silently praying that the person in front of us does not have especially expressive hair.