I had a concert Saturday night. It was quite a difficult concert – it started at 10pm, and the repertoire was challenging. The house was not even half full, but those few in attendance seemed to like the concert.
So I check the papers this morning to see what the critics thought of it. And I find this in The Times:
Yes, but did you like the concert?
Yes, but did you like the concert?
Yes, but did you like the frickin’ concert???
What’s with the waffling? Since when were critics of any genre shy about giving a firm opinion one way or the other?
The other review out today comes from the Guardian:
Aaaaaaah! Yes – but – did – you – like – the – monkeyfelching – concert?
Weeping creeping Jesus…What the hell is wrong with you people? You’re getting paid to give your opinion! So give one!
If they tell you what they thought of the concert, in as many words, then there is no comfortable artistic cocoon to separate them from the great unwashed, namely, you and me and Ebert.
Actually, when it comes to reviews of live events which have already occurred, the last thing I want is to know whether the reviewer liked it. I don’t know the reviewer, I don’t hang out with him/her, and I really don’t care whether he/she personally liked it or not. Tell me what was performed, how well it was performed, noteworthy aspects of the performance, unique things about the staging, etc. But don’t tell me whether you liked it–that tells me nothing.
I get where you’re going with that, but isn’t the main point of a reviewer to have a person who acts as your proxy opinion? So you don’t have to personally experience everything to decide what you might like to see? If that isn’t the case, why bother to read the review at all?
The New York Goddam Times Book Review does the same thing. A new book will come out, and the entire review will consist of rehashing the plotline, or the subject’s life, or whatever; and NO WHERE will the reviewer say if the book is any good or not! Of course, when I have written the book in question, I don’t complain too loudly . . .
Generlly, only truly influential critics state whether
they like a thing or not. The other reviewers avoid saying anything definite to avoid bring on the wrong side.
For Example- A museum debuts an exhibit by Slug Signorino. A lay person can see that the works are masterpieces. All the critics can see this but say nothing until their leader (Roughly the social equivalent of the Quarterback or Head Cheerleader of highschool) says something first.
Thus, the critics say
"His eccentric view of reality is reminiscent of Van Gogh."
or
"Does Signorino see everything in terms of black and white or only draw it that way?"
"He revels in the hideousness, the inhumanness of his subjects."
All of which can be apppended if the Head critic like Slug’s work
“Sadly, it seems that the world in which Slug lives is no more capable of seeing his genius than the world which rejected Van Gogh.”
Or if the Head Critic doesn’t approve of Slug-
“His art does not call to mind Van Gogh, however, but rather something one would find stuck to the bottom of one’s shoe.”
The First Rule Of Proffessional Critics-Don't state your opinion until your told what opnion to have.
The Second Rule, of course is to speak in a way that no one understands.
The first thing I’m going to say here is that since I can’t even sing “Happy Birthday” in tune, I have respect for anyone who attempts anything more than that and does a halfway decent job.
The second thing I’ll say is that long ago and far away I was a journalist and during my training I was told, and with experience came to truly believe, that the hardest thing one could write in the journalistic milieu is a decent review of anything artistic. Most journalists don’t have extensive experience in the arts (meaning they’ve never been full-time playwrights, musicians, novelists, etc.) so therefore unless they have an incredibly thorough education in the area they are writing about, and have written reviews that have garnered respect in artistic circles, it’s hard to have what is considered an unassailable opinion. And even then, if someone is bold enough to say whether they like something or not, it’s still just their opinion. So they tend to stick to more academic aspects of a performance that they may know something about. I can say whether or not a group sang in harmony; just because I can’t sing doesn’t mean I can’t hear, and I do have a goodly amount of academic knowledge when it comes to music. But something I may love may be something that someone else can’t stand, and since the difference of opinion is what fosters innumerable facets of all the arts, believe me, it’s not a bad thing at all that your review didn’t state the personal opinion of the reviewer’s taste for your art, just the ability at which they believe it was performed.
Curiously enough my usual response to reviews (usually book reviews) is to wish there were more description & less opinion. Not no opinion of course: but my experience of for instance poetry reviews is that I just want the critic to quote a lot of a book & not waste too much space with his/her opinions: I can figure out whether a book is likely to appeal to me from a few extracts.
I must say that just because the critic doesn’t hit you over the head with his/her opinions doesn’t mean you can’t figure it out. For instance the Times review in the OP is hardly difficult to decipher: the critic thought the repertoire interesting but the performance of it wasn’t exceptional.
Which you can do for written works. Even for a music recording, you can glean enough information in a review to decide whether you will like it. But when the review is of a one-off live performance that has already happened, a little more qualitative substance is required.
I’m not so sure – it simply seems timid to me. If the reviewer came out of the concert going “Huh”, then he (or she) should be able to express that a little more clearly.
I can understand the frustration but I’m also minded to think of what can happen when reviewers from the important papers do get judgemental: Play’s closing after the first week, ticket sales plummet, or, if you’re lucky, the reverse. Whether they want it or not, they have far too much power to influence whether something is a success or a failure.
It’s generally enough for me that they just point up the strong and not so strong aspects of the performance - a review of the elements, If you will, rather than a judgemental conclusion. 'Course, they could adopt a different approach for one-off performances, if they weren’t so, so… anal.
BTW, Congratulations ! How are you enjoying the Prom season ?
In our first two concerts the chorus had a relatively minor role (heck, in Sally Beamish’s Knotgrass Elegy the children’s choir had a better part than we did), so it’s been a pretty low-key season for us prior to Saturday’s concert. Fortunately we get a lot to do in our next appearance (Vaughan Williams Sea Symphony and Schoenberg A Survivor From Warsaw, and then the usual twee shit for the Last Night (Constant Lambert’s Rio Grande – bleah).
It’s not that I have a burning desire to be in the limelight; it’s just that if we’re going to put in the effort to rehearse and show up, it would be nice to have a substantial part to play. It’s like the last time we did Gurrelieder – it’s about 75 minutes long, and the choir does nothing for the first hour. Zzzzzzzz…
I haven’t had much time to go to any of the other Proms concerts, although I’ve caught some of them on the radio. There’s not a lot of showstoppers this season for some reason. But the post-Proms period is looking good, kicking off with performances in London and B’ham of the War Requiem, which I’m excited about.