I wish I had a dollar for every time someone came to me after reading a review of a concert they've been to and exclaimed, "he must have been at a different concert than I was!"

Another frequent complaint goes this way:  "We should call up the editor and complain.  Don't they realize they need to support the arts in this town?"

It's human nature to get mad when a concert reviewer pans a program you really enjoyed.  It happens to me all the time.  But I often think people misunderstand the purpose of music criticism, and the function of a good critic in an arts community.

People talk about classical music being a dying art, but those of us in the biz know that news of its imminent demise has been greatly exaggerated.  What really is on the endangered species list, however, is the practice of classical music criticism.  

Part of the problem is that there's no one advocating for it.  Given that a music critic is supposed to call it as he sees it (or rather hears it), he tends to be unpopular with the very people he exists to serve!   If a critic is fortunate, she will have an editor who understands and values music criticism, and therefore advocates for its continuance in these times of financial crisis and budget-cutting at major daily newspapers.  Without that, it's usually among the first things to get the axe.

We're fortunate in a town of Tacoma’s size that our daily newspaper understands the importance of having a professional music journalist on its staff.  I wish they had the resources to have a larger staff, but that's not in the cards these days.   A decade or two ago, major dailies usually had three or four full time critics to adequately cover the different local beats of classical music, dance, theater, and visual art.  The News Tribune has one part-time writer covering all the visual and performing arts -- a tall order.

So I'm always glad when a TSO concert gets reviewed, even if the review itself makes me see red!  And my response to people who think the critic was at a different concert?  "You're right -- she was." 

You see, that's the challenge of music criticism.  You're trying to evaluate and say something of objective value about a largely subjective experience.   Everyone's experience is going to differ, depending on his or her own background, tastes and experience.   There will be as many different perspectives on a concert as there are people in the audience.  At a certain point, the difference may be so great that it does indeed seem as if the other attended "a different concert."

So what is the function of music criticism, and why is it of value?

My perspective, for what it's worth, is that a good music critic serves dual functions, both individual and communal.  First, the good reviewer enhances the individual concertgoer's capacity for critical listening.  Second, he instills and leads an ongoing dialogue about the art form within a musical community. 

At minimum, even if you vehemently disagree with what the critic writes, she has caused you to think about what you heard, felt and experienced during that 120-minute period of time.   That's of great value if you ever want to get past that early phase of concertgoing we all go through, the one that Henry Fogel calls the "mineral bath approach," where you sit back and allow the music to wash over you while you drift off and daydream.  There's nothing wrong with that (I do it myself sometimes), but I also find that the more I think with discernment about what I'm hearing, and listen critically, the more I enjoy and appreciate it.

Perhaps it is helpful to reflect for a moment about the word "criticism."  In our culture, it's become more or less synonymous with "saying something bad," as in "he criticized me."   However, if you regard it in the sense of "critical thinking" (defined by Wikipedia as "purposeful, reflective judgment"), then you're closer to the idea of active or critical listening (and good music criticism).

Most of us today grew up on pop music, where by and large this kind of active listening isn't necessary. (That is not meant disparagingly; I listen to all kinds of music, including some that many classical aficionados might find unacceptable!)   Even those who listen to so-called "serious" music, like classical or jazz (the latter can no longer be considered "pop"), rarely just LISTEN to it.  We have it on in the car, or while we're housecleaning, or doing the dishes, or working out.  Few of us these days have the time, or take the time, to just sit and listen.  So the idea that listening is a learned skill just like playing an instrument is something of a foreign concept.

Nevertheless, I believe it is true.  Active listening is something we can practice regularly, like an exercise regime.  We get better at it all the time as we familiarize ourselves with different musical languages and the way they have evolved over time and in different cultures. 

Among the resources out there to aid in the art of active listening are good program or liner notes, books on music, pre-concert talks, community music classes -- and, lastly, your local music critic.

There are musicians of lesser and greater talent, experience and skill.  The same is true of music critics, but the matter is more difficult to evaluate because there are few teachers and the actual craft is rarely talked about – except in extremely closed circles, like national music criticism conferences. Critics themselves rarely invite criticism, and we’re hesitant to criticize them openly because of the old adage “never pick a fight with someone who buys ink by the barrel.”  As a result, the whole thing seems to happen in an ivory tower, cloaked in mystery. 

Based on my observation, music criticism seems to happen on three different levels, from basic to advanced.

First, there's the Puff-Purveyer.   These reviewers function more or less as cheerleaders, writing nice, fluffy reviews that inform as few people as they offend.  Although this makes the job of the orchestra's PR department easier, it neither edifies the reader nor instills dialogue and discernment within the music community.  I'd rather have this than no critic at all, but it's certainly the least effective or evolved form.

Then there's the one people often end up referring to as The Poison Pen.  These critics are functioning at a higher level than the first, even though they may not make a lot of friends!  At least they're challenging the status quo, getting people to talk and argue, and giving an arts organization the respect of expecting excellence.  However, they undermine their own effectiveness by writing as if there is one single objective standard out there that only they (seemingly) really grasp.  Either a performance lives up to that standard or it doesn't.   These writers are the ones that, like the cowbirds in the comic strip Pogo, seem happiest when they're filled with loathing.  They often leave people with the impression that they're on some kind of personal vendetta against an organization or a conductor (though that's rarely the case).

Finally, there's the Post-Critical critic.  That sounds like a paradox, but I think this is the most evolved and effective kind.  This reviewer has reached that rare state of "post-critical naivete" (a phrase borrowed from theologian Marcus Borg) where their first question is not "what do I think about it" but rather "what IS it?" -- what is its essence, how does it differ from other things of like kind, what is it saying, how is it being conveyed?

It's not that this reviewer never says anything "critical."  It's just that the underlying basis for the criticism has shifted.  You never get the sense they're trying to be clever, or coming from a place of self-aggrandizement.  They're not thinking about themselves at all. Everything is about love of the art form, describing, edifying and appreciating. 

I know one long-time music critic who recounted the moment this shift happened in himself thus:  "I woke up one day and realized I just wasn't that important."  As a result, I watched his writing change gradually but significantly.  Today he's still writing, he has the respect, admiration and trust of the musical community he serves, and probably has more credibility than any other critic I've known. 

Do people still sometimes think he was at a different concert than they were?  Probably.  But he's instilled a discourse that is as respectful as it is passionate. 

A music journalist like that is as important to a functioning arts scene as the organizations he covers.