Someone buys a ticket on the train, on a phone, one-handed. Two taps later they know they are in row 7, on the aisle, to the left of the stage — and that their friend is sitting next to them rather than three rows back. That is the whole difference between a ticket and a seat.
Open the hall
On the event page the hall appears as it really is: the stage or the screen at the top, the entrances marked, free seats open and sold seats closed.
Point at your spot
Tap a seat, or let the system find the best seats together. Rather not squint at a map? One button switches you to the list.
The seat travels with you
Row and seat number appear on the ticket, in the confirmation email, in your wallet and on the steward’s screen at the door.
From the visitor’s side it is three actions. Everything underneath — holding, checking, booking through — never surfaces, and that is exactly the point.
No dropdown listing “Tier 1” and “Tier 2” that you have to guess your way through. You see the shape of the hall, where the stage or the screen is and which door you come in by. What is already sold shows straight away — so at a glance you know whether the front is still an option or the balcony is your best bet.
The moment you tap a seat it is held for you while you finish the rest of your order. If someone else taps that very same seat at that very same moment, they do not get it — they watch it turn grey and pick another. So there is never a moment where two people walk to the door with the same seat number.
Once you have paid, “Stalls — row B, seat 12” is on your ticket, in the email and in Apple or Google Wallet. On arrival the steward scans your QR code and sees that same seat on screen, so they can point you the right way instead of handing you off to an usher.
The same hall, three ways through it — on a large screen, on a phone, or with no floor plan at all.
A seating plan is a picture, and pictures shut people out. That is why it is never the only way to buy a seat here — the other route is not lesser, just different.
You can walk the whole hall as a list: row by row, seat by seat, with price and availability as plain text. A screen reader reads it out the way it reads any other list. It is exactly the same stock at exactly the same price — not a stripped-down version where the good seats are missing.
Wheelchair spaces are marked separately, with the companion seat right next to them. So you do not have to ring up first to ask whether anything is free and whether your partner can sit with you — you filter on accessible spaces and simply see it there.
Poor eyesight, or sitting on a rattling train? Pinch the plan open until the seat numbers are big enough. The tap targets scale up with it, so you do not end up grabbing the wrong seat by a millimetre.
Working with a keyboard or a switch, you tab through the sections and rows with a focus outline you can genuinely see. Every seat tells you what it is — row, number, tier and price — before you choose it, not after.
Visitors recognise their hall by its shape — whether that is a playhouse with two balconies or screen 3 at the local cinema. If the plan does not look like the place they will be sitting, they start to doubt, and doubt is the last thing you want just before checkout.
The fan-shaped stalls of a playhouse do not run in straight lines. Seats sit on free positions, so the bend in row F looks on screen the way it looks in the hall — and a regular visitor recognises their spot instantly.
First balcony, second balcony, side boxes: each visible in its own right instead of squashed into one block marked “upstairs”. Someone who knows the second balcony gives them vertigo can now avoid it themselves.
A pricier tier does not have to be a whole section. A cluster of the best seats running across three rows can carry its own price, and the visitor sees from the colour and the amount why that seat costs more than the one beside it.
Knowing where the stage or the screen is covers half the decision. Where the doors are covers the other half — for anyone who likes a quick exit, is unsteady on their feet, or needs to slip out during the show.
Raked rows, the screen as the reference point instead of a stage, and that second half of row H where the love seats are. Someone who knows row 1 gives them a stiff neck scrolls to the middle and sees straight away what a recliner costs on top.
Your hall does not change from night to night, so neither does your plan. You draw it once and attach it to every performance or screening: set up four cinema screens and you can sell your entire weekly programme by seat number from then on.
We would rather be honest now than surprise you halfway through your ticket sales.
Reserved seating is available, but it does not appear in your admin on its own. You request the module and we set it up for you; you then accept that module's terms and can draw your first hall straight away. Requesting it mainly lets us check that your hall fits the way the seating plan works.
Plenty for virtually every theatre, playhouse, cinema screen and conference hall. A stadium with tens of thousands of places calls for a different kind of choosing — a block first, a seat second — and that is planned for a later phase.
A seat is held for you while you order, but not indefinitely. Leave the order sitting for half an hour and the spot frees up for someone else. That is deliberate: otherwise a sold-out hall fills with seats nobody actually bought.
After the other half of the story — how you draw a floor plan yourself, link tiers to your ticket types and what it costs? That all lives on the reserved-seating module page.
Do you organise events with MijnEvent? Enter your e-mail address and we'll send a login link for your most recent organisation.
No account yet? Sign up for free
You're viewing the English version. Looking for the Dutch page?
Ga naar Nederlands