In her new Jumper post published just this morning, “Are we a sector defined by our permanently failing organizations?” Diane Ragsdale considers the internal dynamics of institutional existence and persistence as a symptom of the sclerotic artistic institution. Her thoughts jump off from this comment by Corey Fischer of the recently-closed Traveling Jewish Theatre:
The sad part is that in the years leading up to our decision to finally close down, it seemed as if we were being punished for our commitment to be a home for artists. Some foundations and consultants implied and sometimes said straight out that to attempt to have artists at the center of the company and pay them a living wage was frivolous, unrealistic and irresponsible. Perhaps. But as economic conditions forced us to change that basic aspect of our identity, it became harder and harder for us to accomplish our mission of creating and presenting original work. When we recognized that the only way to even have a chance of surviving was to become one more theater producing plays that could just as easily be done by a host of other companies, we saw no reason to continue.
Ms. Ragsdale points to characteristics of “permanently failing organizations” as a fatal obstacle in the effort to define new models or missions:
[O]rganizations reach a so-called “permanently failing” state when those who are “dependent” on the institution (primarily but not exclusively, managers who depend on the institution for a paycheck and who, therefore, often value maintenance of the organization over other performance goals) begin to amass power, which they then use to keep the organization alive, but in a low performance state. … Perhaps we perceive the arts sector itself as being in the doldrums not because there are no innovators in our midst (there are plenty), but because we have, for too long, held up our permanently failing organizations as leaders and, by doing so, have permitted them to define our sector’s goals and its performance.
It is interesting to muse briefly about just which institutions have been “held up” as leaders, who has been doing the holding-up, and whether these latter folk are just as culpable for the state of these institutions and the art they purport to present. But Mr. Fischer’s comment also suggests that all we need to do to find the origin of this dysfunction is to follow the money. Not only do foundations and consultants dissuade theatres from permanent acting ensembles or resident dramatists (that road considered “frivolous, unrealistic and irresponsible”); board members (often major donors to these theatres whose board membership is contingent upon large gifts) do so as well, and probably for much the same reason — there is little bang-for-the-buck in supporting process rather than product. It also reveals these donors’ conception of the arts as frivolous ornamentation to a culture rather than part of the lifeblood of that culture. That said, I can’t agree with Ms. Ragsdale that the TJT’s decision was “laudable.” Noble, perhaps, but only as some suicides are noble — a Pyrrhic victory at best.
A few weeks ago I published Harold Clurman’s “complete critic’s qualifications.” By way of contrast, I point you towards New York Times‘ critic Ben Brantley’s similar list, which he outlined in an interview with Dave Begel of OnMilwaukee.com last week. My favorite exchange is this one:
OMC: Does a good reviewer need to have experience in the theater to be credible?
BB: I think it helps to know how theater works, of course, and to have had at least some first-hand experience. But I think what makes any artist good — which is a particular, passionate and idiosyncratic point of view — is not what makes a good critic.
Funny — I would have thought a particular, passionate, and idiosyncratic point of view is precisely what makes a good critic. No, strike that — it makes a great one. But Mr. Brantley’s perspective certainly explains 90% of the Times‘ arts and cultural coverage.
Far be it from me to defend Ben Brantley’s reviewing, George, but I kind of appreciate the point I think he’s trying to make. There is a crucial difference between what it takes to make art and what it takes to write criticism about art: namely, the artist has to believe in what he or she is doing, while the critic has to remain skeptical and open-minded. I used to make theater but I can’t imagine trying at this point; I’ve spent a long time trying to be open to others’ perspectives as art-makers, which has been deeply rewarding but has sort of instilled a complete inability on my part to say, with sufficient certainty to try to follow through on the idea, what art should be. The idiosyncratic tendencies of the art maker are crucial to his or her advancement of the form, but how tedious would it be to have a critic with such a clear-cut perspective writing reviews of every show and holding them all accountable to his or her own vision of art without regard to trying to understand what the artists themselves were attempting? Indeed, I think we all too often do wind up with just that scenario. We can all surmise what an Isherwood or Brantley favors, for instance. Not with complete predictive accuracy, but we’re aware, through following their writing, of them as individuals, with tastes and perspectives which often we don’t agree with.
Mind you, I’m not remotely arguing that the same individual cannot be good at both being an artist and a critic. Obviously there are countless examples of just that circumstance. What I’m saying is that these roles require different perspectives, which I think you can elaborate from Brantley’s comment. I also appreciate the point I think you’re getting at: criticism as a form, at its best, plays a role in the advancement of the art form, which does require taking a side, arguing for some things and against others. I hardly disagree, but it’s obvious at this point that what the Times (or any newspaper) is willing to publish won’t amount to that form of criticism. The era of Tynans and Hobsons publishing weekly is done, for better or worse (likely worse). But we also have to appreciate it that the value we see in critics like that is as also a matter of retrospect. At the time, I’m sure plenty of people hated them (and if I recall they didn’t much care for one another, either). Given the near complete collapse of performing arts criticism in the media, I think it’s probably for the best that those remaining in such roles are expected to be open-minded and skeptical toward programmatic criticism, since I simply don’t trust their editors to appoint anyone I’d respect in such a role.
None of which is to really disagree with what you’re getting at, which is a desire for real criticism rather than the half-baked consumer report cards we get. But criticism of that nature has to exist in a state of discourse with other perspectives to avoid a fascistic tendency.
I wouldn’t have quite as skeptical a response to Brantley’s remarks if he’d done two things: first, had he made the distinction between “critic” (which may be what is written on his business card) and “reviewer” (which is what he really is), a distinction which is common and clear enough these days; and second, had he not said, “A theater critic’s main purpose in this regard is to sustain an active dialogue about the theater and to generate … debate.” What kind of debate might we expect from a critic or reviewer who does not have a “particular, passionate and idiosyncratic point of view”? I fear it would be like arguing with a wet towel. What we would likely get instead — and indeed what we DO get — is only an appearance of debate, like an argument about the correct way to say potato.
Whether people hated these earlier critics like Hobson or Tynan — or whether they hated each other — is irrelevant, unless you’re only in the game to make friends. And there’s no lack of perspectives in the discourse about theatre, and, with all due respect, no need to characterize strongly-held opinions as “fascistic.”
I should also add that to valorize consumer reviews such as those in the New York Times and elsewhere as the most common and therefore most significant form of discourse about art in the regular press is to participate in what I said earlier: the devolution of the status of artistic work as “frivolous ornamentation to a culture rather than part of the lifeblood of that culture.”
Haha! No, with regard to the first of your comments, I wholeheartedly agree. The difference between “critic” and “reviewer” is pretty substantial, and I appreciate your point fully.
As to the second point, though, I actually don’t think NY Times reviews or the like actually constitute the most common sort of response. Fair from it, the Internet is larded with people’s thoughts on theater. And yes, it does tend to have the effect you describe. The alarming thing about the sort of reviewers the Times has invested in in the long term, to my mind, is what it says about their supposed commitment to arts writing in the first place. They just don’t seem to know, or have much imagination about, how to make the form relevant in the era of institutional media decline. We all know theater reviews aren’t really what move copy, but you’d suppose that given that, if you’re going to continue paying for them at all, you might as well invest in something more urgent and meaningful–look for a new Mel Gussow, say. Instead, they just trade on their own brand as it grows less and less valuable.
Given the Kremlin-like silences from the Times when these issues come up — and the reluctance even of Brantley to participate in the debates he says he wants to encourage (“My personal position is that no one should read what critics write about him or her. And that includes critics,” he says, which makes me wonder what he means by generating debate) — I imagine the issue here is how these editorial decisions are made internally. I believe it’s part of the remit of those who already review and write about theatre for the Times — not only Brantley and Isherwood, but their stable of second- and third-stringers too — to advocate to people like Scott Heller, the New York Times theatre desk editor, for exactly the kind of arts writing that Mel Gussow used to do. That is, if they care about it as much as they say they do. If they do advocate for this to their editors, it would be interesting to know the editors’ response. If they don’t, it would be similarly interesting to learn why they don’t.
And I doubt you’ll find the Times agreeing with your assertion that their own brand is less and less valuable, Jeremy. Even those who despise the Times and consider their theatre coverage inadequate are more than happy to cater to the Times’ whims.
On a related point: Iit’s apparent through the response that the worst thing a Broadway performer can do is say a show’s “not for me”, and give reasons why. And we wonder why we no longer have a criticism that’s more than a consumer report?
“In a string of tweets, composer and lyricist Scott Allen responded: “people read your tweets & you need to be apart of this industry & be respectful & feel honored to be working in it … it disgusts me to see performers judging art. Theatre is already judged by so many. WE are the ones who need to SUPPORT.”"
Reposting from FB:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2012/jul/26/broadway-actor-morgan-james-twitter