The house lights are still up, but phones are already glowing. Little rectangles of light hover above the seats like fireflies that refuse to wait for darkness. Someone scrolls through their ticket, another hunts for the program, another checks the start time again. Before the first cue, the event has begun. It begins on a screen.
TL;DR: Treat your event app like a digital foyer. Use it to welcome, guide, and quietly choreograph everything that happens before, during, and after your show. A good ticketing and program app should feel like an elegant usher: invisible when you want to sink into the world on stage, present the moment you need help, and never, ever shout louder than the art. Choose tools that let you control timing, mood, and information flow, so the tech follows the story you are telling, not the other way around.
Why event tech matters to set designers and immersive artists
Before anyone sees your set, they experience your systems.
The queue.
The confirmation email.
The QR code.
The moment of anxiety at the door when someone wonders: “Is my ticket going to scan?”
If that front-end experience is clumsy, everything that follows has to work harder. The most exquisite scenic reveal will be carrying the weight of someone’s frustration with a glitchy app or a confusing e-ticket.
The “pre-show” is not fifteen minutes; it begins the moment someone buys a ticket. Your app is part of your scenography.
For set designers and immersive theater makers, event tech is not just logistics. It is architecture outside the building. It can either break the spell before you start, or it can soften people into the exact emotional temperature you need.
To make that happen, you have to treat ticketing systems and digital programs like design materials, not only business tools.
Paper vs pixels: choosing the right medium for your audience
There is still something beautiful about a heavy paper ticket or a program that smells faintly of ink. Someone folds it, keeps it, tucks it into a bag. It becomes a small relic.
Digital, in contrast, feels agile and living. Changeable. Correctable. Also: lower cost, less waste, easier data, real-time control.
The choice is not only practical; it is emotional.
| Aspect | Paper Tickets / Programs | App-based Tickets / Programs |
|---|---|---|
| Tactile feel | Warm, keepsake, physical memento | Lightless, intangible, lives on screen |
| Flexibility | Fixed once printed; mistakes are permanent | Easy to edit, update, correct in real time |
| Storytelling potential | Texture, print design, weight of paper | Motion, audio, timed content, interactivity |
| Accessibility | Great for those without smartphones; large print possible | Screen readers, scalable text, multiple languages |
| Impact on foyer flow | Physical queues at box office; handling envelopes, prints | Faster entry, self-service, fewer physical choke points |
| Environmental impact | Paper, ink, transport, reprints for errors | Server energy, devices, but no print waste |
You do not need to choose one and abandon the other. But if you lean on apps for ticketing and programs, design that decision. Let it be a creative choice, not just a budget line.
Designing the ticketing experience like an entrance sequence
Ticketing is usually treated as a back-office concern. Pricing, seating charts, promo codes. Necessary, yes. But from an experience perspective, it is your prologue.
Every touchpoint between someone and your ticketing app is a tiny rehearsal for the way they will trust or doubt your world.
If the purchase flow is confusing, they will expect confusion at the venue. If the confirmation feels cold or generic, they will expect a transactional evening rather than a crafted one.
Here is how to think about tickets as scenography.
1. The buying moment: first impression of your world
When someone lands on your ticketing page, they are at your front door. Yet many events send visitors to a generic white-label page that could belong to any concert, any conference, any fundraiser.
This does not serve a visual storyteller.
Ask yourself: What does someone see in the first three seconds of the booking page?
- A color palette that relates to your set, lighting, or costume design?
- Imagery that hints at scale: intimate room or vast hall?
- Typography that matches your posters or website?
If your ticketing provider allows custom branding, use it carefully. A deep background color can echo your set’s dominant tone. A header image can preview textures or architectural shapes. Even minor details, like button color, can carry the atmosphere.
Avoid over-decorating the interface. Booking still needs to be clear. But a few precise choices build confidence: “These people thought about this. I am in good hands.”
2. Seat selection as stage composition
For productions in fixed-seat venues, the seating map is the first blueprint a visitor encounters.
They are not looking at stage plans, but they are making spatial decisions: Where will I be in relation to the action? Do I want proximity or overview?
Treat the map like a miniature stage design.
The seating map is a tiny, interactive model box in the palm of someone’s hand.
To improve that experience:
– Use a clear visual scale. Do not clutter the map; make the stage axis obvious.
– Name sections in a way that fits your world. “Balcony” might become “Gallery,” “Pit” could be “Arena.” Keep it readable, but let language carry character.
– Indicate partial views honestly. Shaded or lightly hatched blocks can show support columns or overhangs in a clean, respectful way.
If you are working with promenade, immersive, or flexible seating, seat selection may not exist. Instead, your “choice” moments might be entry times, experience paths, or zones.
You can:
– Offer timed entry slots that align with story beats.
– Introduce different “tracks” that feel like character perspectives rather than ticket types.
Some tools let you name ticket types freely. Use that. “Observer,” “Instigator,” “Chorus” says more than “Standard,” “Premium,” “VIP.”
3. Confirmation emails as preludes
After purchase, the confirmation email and app view hold the ticket. But they can hold tone as well.
Instead of a bare list of dates, prices, and barcodes, you can gently start the story:
– A single-paragraph welcome in the voice of the piece: formal, eerie, playful, ritualistic.
– A line about what to wear or bring, framed as a creative suggestion, not a rule.
– A phrase that plants curiosity: “Your evening begins on the sidewalk” or “At 19:30, do not be surprised if someone calls your name.”
Avoid clutter and heavy graphics that slow loading. This message must be readable on a crowded bus with bad signal. But a small piece of language, chosen with care, can warm the digital surface.
Using apps at the door: QR codes, entry flow, and tension
The moment of entry is fragile. People are excited, uncertain, sometimes late, sometimes stressed. They are also holding phones, bags, coats, maybe a drink.
If scanning is clumsy, you build tension in all the wrong places.
The front-of-house experience should feel like a gentle gradient, not a speed bump.
Event apps and ticket scanners can help, if you treat them as part of the choreography.
Scanning as a scene, not a checkpoint
At many events, check-in looks like a miniature border crossing: lines, barriers, one frantic staff member pointing to QR codes.
For a crafted experience, you can design this like blocking.
Think about:
– Where does the line physically exist in relation to your scenic entrance?
– What do guests see while waiting? Bare walls or hints of the world they are walking into?
– What sound is present: foyer chatter, pre-show soundscape, silence?
On the technical side, pick scanning tools that:
– Work offline or with weak signal. Nothing kills an atmosphere like “The app is loading” in a crowded lobby.
– Support multiple devices and staff with shared access, so you can expand or contract the entry line quickly.
– Show clear, visual feedback for success and failure. Green / red states, vibration, large type.
Train your front-of-house team to hold the scanner slightly away from the face, at chest level. Eye contact is part of welcome; a scanner between eyes breaks connection.
Timing app prompts around real space
Many ticketing apps allow push notifications, arrival reminders, or “Your event starts in 1 hour” alerts.
Used without taste, these feel like generic marketing. Used well, they are cues.
For example:
– A gentle notification 2 hours before curtain with a note about travel time, parking, or recommended arrival window.
– A message that shifts people into a quieter mental state: “When you arrive, you may have a few minutes of waiting. Take that time to turn your phone to silent and let your day fall away.”
You can also trigger location-based notifications in some systems, but use restraint. Constant pinging near the venue can feel noisy. One precisely timed message often has more power than five repetitive ones.
Digital programs: not just PDFs on a screen
Digital programs are frequently an afterthought: a PDF upload, a link buried at the bottom of an email, a QR code stuck on the back of a seat.
As a format, they can do far more. They can respond to the live event, reveal layers, and shift content over time.
A digital program is not a flier; it is a living booklet you can breathe into before, during, and after the show.
What apps can do that paper cannot
If you treat the app as a digital program, you can:
– Release content in chapters: teaser images beforehand, basic credits on the day, deeper essays or behind-the-scenes material after the run.
– Offer different program “modes” for different audience types: quick overview for casual guests, extended material for those who want to read for half an hour.
– Embed audio notes from the creative team for people who prefer listening rather than reading.
– Translate content into multiple languages without printing separate editions.
The key is restraint. The phone must not steal focus from the performance. The program should feel like a quiet side-room, not a competing show.
When should people open the app?
This is the question that most producers skip. They make the program available, but they do not design its use.
Ask yourself:
– Do you want people to read before the performance, during, or after?
– Will phone screens in the room ruin a lighting design or break immersion?
– Are there interactive elements that depend on real-time use?
If the piece needs darkness and full focus, discourage phone use during the main event. You can still let the program carry weight before and after:
– Before: About the world, trigger warnings, access information, creative team statements, practical wayfinding.
– After: Full credits, essays, further reading, links to support artists, documentation.
If the show includes phone-based interaction, build that into both the scenic and lighting design. Light from screens is a color and brightness source like any other. Plan for it.
Designing the digital program as a visual object
Within the app, the program should reflect your aesthetic with clarity, not decoration overload.
Think of:
– Typography: Two typefaces is enough. One for headings, one for body text. Choose legible fonts that match the tone of your show.
– Layout: Use generous spacing. Screens are small. Crowd less, say more with fewer words.
– Color: Counterbalance your stage. If the performance is visually dark and moody, a too-dark program can be hard to read in a dim foyer.
You can structure the content:
| Section | Purpose | Timing |
|---|---|---|
| Welcome | Set mood, basic logistics, tone of voice | Visible as soon as someone buys a ticket |
| Essentials | Runtime, interval, content guidance, access | Pre-show and during |
| Credits | Cast, crew, creatives, partners | During and after |
| Deep Material | Director notes, design sketches, dramaturgy | Unlocked after curtain, or after closing night |
| Engage Further | Future events, mailing list, donation options | Post-show |
You are not forced to reveal everything at once. Staggering content can avoid spoiler-heavy program notes while still respecting audience curiosity later.
Weaving ticketing, programs, and scenography into one arc
So far, we have looked at each piece: buying, scanning, reading. The real power appears when you treat the whole pipeline as a continuous design.
From “Book now” button to days after closing night.
Think of your ticketing and program app as a long hallway of doors. Every door is a chance to change the light, the temperature, the expectation.
Here is one possible arc that respects both art and practicality:
- Booking page: Clean, branded to your show, with one evocative line and clear dates.
- Confirmation screen and email: Ticket details plus a short, in-character welcome and link to the “Essentials” section of your program.
- Pre-show: Push or email 24 hours before with directions, access notes, and a piece of mood-setting content (a production still, a short text, a snippet of sound).
- Arrival: The app shows the ticket clearly, large QR code, and an “On arrival” tip. Scanning is fast, with staff trained to keep tech behind eye contact.
- Intermission (if you have one): Optional access to director notes, design sketches, essays for those who want more context.
- Post-show: A gentle follow-up with unlocked extra content and a simple way to stay in the loop.
At each step, the app is present but not dominant. It acts like a thin layer of guidance, not a second performance.
Choosing tools: what matters for creative teams
You will encounter a forest of ticketing and event apps. Many of them talk about revenue, conversions, analytics, and marketing. Those are relevant for producers, of course, but for designers and creators, some quieter features matter more.
Brand control and custom pages
Look for systems that allow:
– Custom color themes that match your design.
– Uploading feature images that you can art-direct.
– Dedicated content pages or custom fields where you can embed program content instead of separate PDFs.
Avoid tools that overwhelm the page with their own branding and visual identity. You want people to feel your world, not the platform.
Access and equity
An app-centered approach risks excluding people who do not use smartphones, have accessibility needs, or prefer not to interact digitally.
You need parallel paths.
– Always offer a clear way to access tickets without an app: email printouts, name lists, or wallet passes.
– Provide printed programs on request, in large format for those with visual impairments.
– Make sure the digital program works with screen readers and high-contrast settings.
Accessibility is part of experience design, not a bolt-on. A person who struggles to access a digital ticket will carry that frustration into the room.
Data that actually helps art
You will be offered dashboards full of numbers: opens, click-through rates, conversions, heat maps.
Most of this will not change your next lighting cue.
Look instead for data that can shape creative decisions:
– Arrival time patterns: Do people mostly arrive early, or rush just before curtain? This influences pre-show installations and foyer design.
– Device usage: Are visitors mostly on mobile, or do some engage from desktops beforehand? That can guide where you put more visual depth.
– Engagement with program content: Are people reading pre-show notes or mostly returning after? Adjust the content mix accordingly.
Use this information to refine experience over time, not to chase trends.
Balancing presence: tech vs human contact
There is a risk in all of this. You can design the perfect app, elegant flows, beautiful digital programs, and still end up with a foyer full of people looking only at their screens.
That is not what you want.
The live gathering is your medium. The height, air, and shared breath of the room.
The best event tech is like good stage crew: present, precise, and almost invisible from the audience point of view.
Make conscious decisions about when to encourage phone use and when to discourage it.
Some strategies:
– Clear signage: “Please take a moment to read the program before entering. Once inside, phones away so that light does not disturb the world.”
– Human ushers who mention the digital program with warmth but also advocate for focus in the space.
– Time-bound features in the app that encourage engagement at the right phase. For example, lock certain content while the performance is in progress, then release it with an after-show notification.
If your work needs phones active as part of the story, build that into the physical language of the piece. Light cues can anticipate screen glow. Performers can acknowledge devices in-character.
If not, let the app step back.
Creative experiments with event tech for immersive work
For immersive and site-responsive artists, ticketing and program apps can slide into the narrative itself, but this demands care. It is very easy to overcomplicate the audience journey.
Possible approaches that respect clarity:
Tickets as invitations from characters
Instead of a generic confirmation, your ticket email can arrive in the “voice” of the world: a letter from a host, a directive from a fictional agency, a mysterious note.
Keep the subject line clear for practical needs (“Your ticket for [Title]”) but let the body play. Inside the app, the digital ticket might be framed visually: a “badge,” a “summons,” a “key.”
Do not hide essential information for the sake of narrative. Time, place, access information, and support contacts must remain straightforward.
Programs as artifacts
Rather than calling it “Program,” you might treat that section of the app as an archive, a dossier, a case file, a gallery.
You can:
– Present photos as “found documentation” from inside the story.
– Time release materials so that, after the event, new “evidence” appears in the app.
– Invite audience members to revisit the app and discover what they had missed.
Again, ground this in simplicity. If a person just wants to check the cast list, they must be able to do that quickly and without puzzles.
A practical process for creative teams
If you are planning a new production and want to weave apps into ticketing and programs thoughtfully, a simple process can help.
1. Map the emotional curve before touching any tool
Sit with your director, producer, and design team. Draw a horizontal line that represents the visitor journey from “I hear about the show” to “Three days after I saw it.”
Mark on that line:
– Key emotions you want at each stage (curiosity, anticipation, ease, intensity, reflection).
– Key practical needs (buy, locate, enter, understand, leave, reconnect).
Then place your tech interactions on the same line: booking, confirmation, pre-show email, check-in, digital program, follow-up.
Look at where they land. Are you flooding a tense moment with logistical instructions? Are you giving no support at peak confusion? Adjust.
2. Design content, then choose tools
Many teams start by picking a ticketing platform, then discovering what it allows. That is backwards for experience design.
Instead:
– Decide what you want the ticketing page to show.
– Decide how you would like your program to unfold.
– Decide the emotional tone of your messages.
Then look for tools that can support those choices. You may have to compromise, but at least you will know what you are sacrificing.
3. Prototype the journey with real people
Before you open sales fully, invite a small group to go through the entire flow:
– They discover a link, buy a ticket, receive messages, arrive at a test entrance, and “find” the program in the app.
– Watch where they hesitate, which screens they read, which they skip.
Do this with at least one person who is not very tech-comfortable. If they struggle, your design is too fragile.
4. Rehearse front-of-house with the tech running
Technical rehearsals often focus on light, sound, automation. Add a “FOH tech run”:
– Staff practice scanning tickets at performance pace.
– Devices are tested on the actual network available in the building.
– Timing of any notifications is tested relative to cues.
You do not want to discover, on opening night, that a key app interaction triggers at the exact moment of a delicate silence.
5. Adjust content mid-run
One of the strengths of digital programs and apps is that you can change them while the show runs.
If audiences seem confused about interval length, add that to the “Essentials” section. If many people ask about trigger content, surface that information earlier.
Treat the app as a responsive partner in the production, not a fixed document.
Where to be cautious: when tech hurts the art
It is easy to be seduced by features: seat upgrades, recommendation algorithms, gamified check-ins, interactive polls, live chats.
Many of these are built for large concerts or conferences. They rarely serve an intimate, crafted, visually precise theater or gallery experience.
Be wary of:
– Loud “engagement” prompts that encourage people to post or share in the middle of a show where quiet is precious.
– Over-complicated multi-step check-ins that delay entry and heighten stress.
– Requiring app downloads for simple access. Web-based tickets that open in a browser are often friendlier.
Ask a simple question at each new proposed feature:
“Does this deepen the story or clarity, or does it only increase noise?”
If it is noise, let it go.
Why this matters for your craft
For many guests, the most intimate part of the evening is not just the scene on stage, but the pause on the way home: looking through photos, reading credits, replaying a moment.
The app can join them in that quiet, if you design it to.
A clean, elegantly written program that lives on their phone lets them return to your world days later. A well-timed follow-up that shares one rehearsal image or a short note from the designer can close the loop in a human way.
You are not trying to keep hold of them forever. You are simply finishing the gesture you started at the booking page: a careful, aesthetic, precise invitation into a world, carried gently through the necessary friction of tickets and times and seats.
If you treat event tech as another set of materials, like fabric, light, or plywood, it stops blocking the view. It starts framing it.
