By Helen Musa, convenor of the Canberra
Critics Circle.
(This commentary was first printed in the ACT Writers' Centre publication ACTWrite, February 2016, Vol.22, issue 1.)
When Samuel Beckett’s character Vladimir taunts his companion in Waiting for Godot with the pejorative “Cretin!” Estragon hits back with the most insulting word he can think of — “Crritic!”
The insult is one that most
theatre critics must learn to bear with equanimity.
What is it that critics do?
First and foremost, they criticise. They also analyse, prod and, in long-form
reviewing, advocate for the art form, although that can lead to accusations of
bias.
Make no mistake
about it, reviewing is never a popularity contest. A critic will often be at
odds with the public and we
are often asked, “What’s it like to be hated by everyone?”
Candidly, if you’re reviewing
something awful, it can be a pleasure to say so. One Canberra critic calls it “the
taste of blood.” Think about it, people pay to attend performances and
criticism serves as advice, so “kindness” does no service to the reader or listener.
Even so, criticism is very rarely black and white.
The Canberra Critics Circle is entering
its 25th year in 2016. Uniquely in Australia, our circle does not focus just on
theatre, dance and opera, but runs the gamut of the arts, through theatre,
dance, music, visual arts, books and film, reflecting the fact that ours is a small
community that needs dialogue and comment across the full arts spectrum.
Founded after a forum of practising critics
in print and radio during Dance Week 1991 which focused on the state of public
commentary on the arts in Canberra, the CCC gives out annual awards at the ACT
Arts Awards ceremony, which we convene, and also holds winter colloquiums to help
develop critical awareness of local arts practice.
Alas, critics, like other journalists
in Australia, tend to be ranked very low on the status scale, but we see ourselves
as tellers-of-truth, speaking out to the public.
Does criticism matter to artists?
To a visual artist it does, as creating
work within a vacuum is a nonsense. Veteran Canberra
With the emergence of blogs where
anyone can have an opinion, the critic’s role art may be under siege, yet it is
all the more important in a popular culture swamped with hyperbole to have reliable
criticism and some bloggers stand out as trusted commentators.
If your bent is critical – and it is
simply not true that anyone can be a critic – there are lots of places to
start.
My story in theatre criticism began
when I was a first-year student at the University of NSW, the first Australian university
to run theatre studies courses. I was assigned by the Uni paper, Tharunka, as its theatre reviewer. My
drama professor, an elderly Berliner, told me that I must go to “everything”, good,
bad or indifferent, to develop my taste. And I did, while pursuing the academic
study of Western and Asian theatre in plays and historical documents.
I firmly believe that critics, whether
in theatre, music, art, dance, cinema, should have some expertise in the field.
My counterpart, the theatre critic for Sydney University's Honi Soit paper was the formidable Germaine Greer, who took me
under her wing and offered me tips on what to look out for.
Some of the handy hints I picked up were,
not to retell the plot unless it is a completely new play, to get to the point
quickly, (most performance reviews in print, world-wide, run between 250 and
350 words) to avoid listing all the characters, rather focusing on those
relevant to your point and, in those days, never to say “I.”
That aversion to the first person has
long ago disappeared from the critical lexicon, with the recognition that true
objectivity is pretty well nonexistent. Readers now know how to listen to the critic’s
voice and learn of his or her predilections. ‘Informed subjective criticism’ is
what we now look for.
Many “God-critics”, especially in the
larger ponds of New York and London, have made their names as entertaining
purveyors of literary invective. But, in a small city like Canberra, that seems
ridiculously self-indulgent and I like to think the tradition of the
patronisingly pompous critic is passé. I once compared, unfavourably, a
production of a Pirandello play to the Maserati parked outside the old Childers
Street Theatre and have regretted my tiresome bit of ‘cleverness’ ever since.
A gift for words is essential for a
reviewer, but it is my strong view that critical judgement and fearlessness are
far more important in conveying to the public an idea of what a production was
like. In this respect, theatre, film and book reviewers are different from
other arts in that they advise the public on whether to pay money for an
artistic experience. It is a position of considerable responsibility.
I judge fearlessness to be the most
important attribute for a critic and am unimpressed by assertions that
criticism needs to be kind. In theatre that is the (usually paid) job of a
dramaturg, not a critic.
Our chief role is to speak to the
public, not to the playwright, the novelist or the players and of that the English
theatre critic Michael Billington once wrote that the shortest way to professional
castration is for a critic is to get to bed with the person he/she is
reviewing.
Performing arts criticism differs from some
other areas (say books, painting, and sculpture) in having two components — the
work and the interpretation. A critic will hardly base a review on a personal
dislike of Hamlet but will comment on
the actor playing the Prince of Denmark. Likewise, it is a waste of space to recount
the story of the world’s most famous play, but the critic will reflect on the
acting, the thematic angle of the director, the set, the costumes and the final
impression.
A new play is an entirely different
matter. Here a theatre critic can be on dangerous ground, for ordinarily he or
she will not have read the play, which may change even up to the dress rehearsal.
A review of a brand new play might include some recounting of the plot, the
structure, and the most common weakness, the ending, Very frequently a play which
has not enjoyed in-depth workshopping may have a number of false endings. The
astute critic will spot this and possibly suggest the way to a resolution, also
acting as a broker between the writer and the audience where an unfamiliar
theatrical style is used.
Here is where the theatre critic needs to
be fully aware of the theatre arts, for an unready play may be 'dressed up' by
clever directors, actor, costumiers and designers to look better than it is.
Without doubt the days of the superior
God-critic have gone and it is most unusual for a theatre reviewer to dislike the
art form – on the contrary, most critics go into a performance hoping for the very
best. And today’s playwrights, many of them theatre-workers themselves, commonly
spend time in rehearsals working with directors and actors, so they know the
ropes, just like the critics. But they can never see their own play with an impartial
eye.
I can’t see theatre criticism dying out
any time soon in an art form that is about give and take in real-time, where
debate is often as important as the show itself.
But we can, all of us, rise above the assertion
that “I don't know much about theatre, [or art or music or film] but I know what
I like.”
Helen Musa December 19 2015
