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Recently, when the Times revealed a restructuring of its arts desk that included moving four of its critics—covering theatre, television, pop music, and classical music—to different positions, the response from the media and arts communities was one of shock. Even more concerning than the shifts in personnel, however, was the rationale provided by the paper’s culture editor, Sia Michel, in her memo regarding the choice, which framed the decision as part of an ongoing initiative to “broaden” the Times’ cultural reporting “beyond the conventional review.” There are numerous valuable approaches to discussing the arts, yet her critique of reviews indicates a superficial expansion that would, in fact, represent a significant reduction. Michel’s aspiration for diverse formats, including video, is valid but lacks balance; the practice of criticism should encompass a wide array of methods and continually evolve, but it must not abandon its core, which remains the written review.
Contrary to what my headline suggests, this is not a defense; I’m not standing guard in front of traditional reviews to shield them from criticism or attack. Instead, I’m championing them, not to maintain the existing state or to revive outdated practices but to support the cause of art itself—because reviews, rather than being conservative (as Michel’s comments imply), are the most fundamentally progressive form of arts writing. When crafting reviews, critics assume the role of the audience: viewing a film, attending a concert, experiencing a play, purchasing a record. Reviews are anchored in the most essential unit of the art industry—the personal interaction with individual works (or exhibitions of multiple works)—and in the economic ramifications of that interaction. The particularity of the review is both aesthetic and social. Primarily, it serves as a consumer guide, an inherent type of service journalism. Critics are both consumers and representatives of consumers; as Pauline Kael stated in 1971, in The New Yorker, “Without a few independent critics, there’s nothing between the public and the advertisers.” What’s commercially vital about reviews, which act as a kind of consumer-protection document, is precisely this independence, both editorially and textually.
Independence is often absent from whatever replaces reviews in cultural journalism. For example, reported pieces tend to dilute unabashedly opinionated expression and instead, hand the microphone to the artists themselves and sometimes to others connected to a specific project (producers, gallerists, publishers, etc.)—essentially, to individuals with vested interests. The majority of interviews conducted to accompany the release of new work should be accurately viewed as part of a marketing strategy. Such interviews and quotations typically lack frankness. While exceptions exist, in the era of social media, where a careless comment risks overshadowing the narrative of, say, a movie’s or record’s release, there are increasingly fewer candid moments. The outcome is interviews that steer coverage towards personalities, leaning into the flashy allure of celebrity journalism. They reward and amplify self-promotion instead of shedding light on the new work for a potential audience.
What is forfeited in such diluted coverage is an accurate evaluation of the fundamental cultural unit. Just as individual works are what individual artists—whether directors, actors, crew, or producers—produce at a specific moment, it’s also how audiences fundamentally seek out works: one at a time. What a review encapsulates, above all, is one viewer’s experience of it. The essence of the review is assessment, which certainly doesn’t imply the simplistic binary of a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. (There’s a unique pleasure for critics in receiving feedback from readers who are uncertain whether to interpret a specific review as favorable or unfavorable.) Even as a review addresses a work’s commercial function, it simultaneously embodies the opposite—a work’s potential expansiveness, the possibly overwhelming and transformative effect of a single viewing or listening experience.
While the journalistic review addresses the culture industry’s immediate demands for novelty, it is not a product but a process—a direct engagement that is both narrowly focused and liberating, as free as an essay (of which it is a subset). Other works by the same artist, or within the same genre, or that offer any significant correlation or connection; pertinent social and political context; reflections or implications regarding other art forms; elements of the artists’ lives—and, for that matter, of the critics’ lives—all are valid topics. A review is as expansive as the intellect—and the boldness—of a critic. Its only boundaries are those of a critic’s imagination and of editors’ willingness to allow for whatever expansion and experimentation a critic might attempt. A review is whatever a work of art conjures; everything is criticism.
That’s precisely why reviews, even when tied to the immediate accessibility of a specific work or event, transcend that narrow context and provide an opportunity to endure, to attract and inspire readers who may lack access to the event in question or arrive too late for it. For instance, it is a fundamental mistake on the part of editors and reviewers alike to treat classical music concert reviews as mere descriptions of performers and performances. I’ve authored some, and the primary focus of a review of a performance of, let’s say, a Beethoven symphony isn’t the musicians but Beethoven and the symphony. A worthwhile classical review comments on the meaning and significance of Beethoven, making a compelling argument for performing Beethoven nearly two centuries after his passing. Alternatively, to phrase it differently, critics who take Beethoven for granted do a disservice to readers, Beethoven, and music—whereas those whose reviews delve deeply into the music itself and renew understanding, interest, and passion regarding Beethoven have thus transcended the constraints of time and broadened readers’ listening pleasures and perspectives into the future.
And that’s the essence of reviews: the future. With insight into the history of an art form and an awareness of its current state—an awareness cultivated through the immersive diligence of writing reviews on a broad range of recent events—critics perceive in new works their implications, their promise, the possibilities they unfold, the vistas they reveal. They recognize this not because they’ve accepted the artists’ assertions but because they perceive the art dynamically, even prophetically.
It is through reviews that critics remain current, and through reviews that critics establish the foundation for essays, videos, podcasts, and other cross-sectional or survey formats. Any cultural journalist can absorb a (no pun intended) critical mass of films (or plays, concerts, records, etc.), but it is only through prolonged engagement with each one that the essay or discussion can progress beyond superficiality and reflect the substance and merits of the works at hand. This isn’t about critics taking themselves seriously but about treating art with the seriousness it deserves. Certainly, newspapers and magazines should
Sourse: newyorker.com