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what kind of reviewer am I
Nov. 14th, 2006 02:10 pmLast Thursday I received a hurried phone call from my editor. Apparently the promoters of a concert by a local contemporary-music string quartet had decided at the last minute that they really wanted a lot of review publicity, and were contacting media outlets asking to be covered. I was available, though I generally don't like reviewing concerts whose programs I know nothing about, and said I'd go.
I had drafted but not fully written my review by Saturday morning when I saw Richard Scheinin's review in the Mercury News. Scheinin and I had similar opinions of the concert: interesting repertoire, but deficient execution. Not surprising, really; discovering that my unexpressed opinions of a concert often matched those of the professional reviews I read is what convinced me in the first place that my ear was good enough to do this.
But we certainly approached this opinion differently. I mostly confined myself to trying to describe the works (music that sounds like cars is a particular bugaboo of mine), and limited my comments on the perforers to two vaguely disappointed paragraphs at the end. Whereas Scheinin basically roasted them alive.
If you've seen my book reviews, you know I don't pussyfoot around negative opinions. So why don't I trash bad concerts with vigor?
Several reasons, of which the most obvious is that I still feel a tyro in this field. When I read a lousy study of Tolkien, I'm fully confident in calling it one. But while I trust my ears enough to say that a performer is deficient, I don't feel secure enough in my judgments to offer that as more than a tentative opinion. (In print, anyway. Talk to me in person and I may be more open.)
Second is the fact that most of the concerts I attend are pretty good, so there isn't the opportunity to build up the bile that lousy scholarship elicits. I basically gave up reviewing fiction several years ago because I just couldn't summon up enthusiasm for enough books. (I do make occasional exceptions when I am enthusiastic about a book. I reviewed John M. Ford's Heat of Fusion, for instance.)
Most importantly, though, is that I judge live performing arts by different criteria than static ones. No matter how much rehearsal you've had (and I know that musicians usually can't get enough), a live performer is out there winging it on the spot, and I'm inclined to give them a break that I will not give to written or recorded material, no matter how tight the deadline.
Were the artists so bad that I winced in pain? Or were they so dull that I was bored silly? These are questions that, however often I have to say "yes" about them at movies, I rarely have to answer positively about classical concerts. And so long as I don't, I'll keep restrained whatever negative comments I do have.
I had drafted but not fully written my review by Saturday morning when I saw Richard Scheinin's review in the Mercury News. Scheinin and I had similar opinions of the concert: interesting repertoire, but deficient execution. Not surprising, really; discovering that my unexpressed opinions of a concert often matched those of the professional reviews I read is what convinced me in the first place that my ear was good enough to do this.
But we certainly approached this opinion differently. I mostly confined myself to trying to describe the works (music that sounds like cars is a particular bugaboo of mine), and limited my comments on the perforers to two vaguely disappointed paragraphs at the end. Whereas Scheinin basically roasted them alive.
If you've seen my book reviews, you know I don't pussyfoot around negative opinions. So why don't I trash bad concerts with vigor?
Several reasons, of which the most obvious is that I still feel a tyro in this field. When I read a lousy study of Tolkien, I'm fully confident in calling it one. But while I trust my ears enough to say that a performer is deficient, I don't feel secure enough in my judgments to offer that as more than a tentative opinion. (In print, anyway. Talk to me in person and I may be more open.)
Second is the fact that most of the concerts I attend are pretty good, so there isn't the opportunity to build up the bile that lousy scholarship elicits. I basically gave up reviewing fiction several years ago because I just couldn't summon up enthusiasm for enough books. (I do make occasional exceptions when I am enthusiastic about a book. I reviewed John M. Ford's Heat of Fusion, for instance.)
Most importantly, though, is that I judge live performing arts by different criteria than static ones. No matter how much rehearsal you've had (and I know that musicians usually can't get enough), a live performer is out there winging it on the spot, and I'm inclined to give them a break that I will not give to written or recorded material, no matter how tight the deadline.
Were the artists so bad that I winced in pain? Or were they so dull that I was bored silly? These are questions that, however often I have to say "yes" about them at movies, I rarely have to answer positively about classical concerts. And so long as I don't, I'll keep restrained whatever negative comments I do have.
