Apology For a Review I Didn't Write

This article is an apology for a review that I never wrote – gladly.

I have been a music and theater critic for many years, but strangely, I don’t put a lot of stock in what reviewers write. 

Deep down, I know that a reviewer’s comments are those of one person and one person only. And not only that, they are the comments of that one person during one particular moment in time. 

Who knows what the critic felt like that day or what had happened in his/her life that day? Did his dog die?  Did his computer crash erasing years of beloved photos?  We don’t know.

More than once, I have been surprised and shocked at people who didn’t like a concert or a play that I absolutely loved. Were we at the same concert on the same day, I ask myself? I feel that everyone’s opinion is honest and credible, but I am often shocked at the wide variety of viewpoints.

When I ask people what they think about a concert they often say, “Well, I don’t know much about music so my opinion really doesn’t count.  Wrong – everyone’s opinion counts. If composers only wrote music for the select few who had music degrees or were professional musicians, they would be missing their true audience.

I had that experience recently at a performance of the opera “Orpheus in the Underworld”, as performed by the MSU Opera Theatre. I have always admired the quality of the opera program under the direction of Melanie Helton. 

I remember years past, when the opera program would simply produce short scenes of operas in the old MSU music auditorium.  Once, the set actually fell down on the singers during a performance.  Happily, those days are long gone. Now, two fully staged operas are produced with professional results each year,.

I was looking forward to seeing “Orpheus in the Underworld”.  I didn’t plan on reviewing it but I wrote a preview of the show and interviewed Helton.

But, for reasons I cannot fully explain, the show left me flat from the moment the music started. “Orpheus” is a brash satire of French society of the period when Offenbach wrote it and of the Greek story it on which it was based.

The production blossomed forth with bright, garish costumes and mostly excellent voices. As usual, Helton’s staging was brisk and brought out the most from the student performers who put their all into the work.

Usually I enjoy and appreciate silly, comic operas, but I had no interest in this one at all.  I thought the music was bleh, the crazy story bored me and nothing tickled my funny bone.

And because I was so fervent in my mindset, I thought that everyone at the Fairchild Theater that night was feeling what I was feeling. Total disengagement.

But to my surprise, the audience was thrilled with the production. Talking to a few giddy people that night, they told me to lighten up. The music was more like Gilbert and Sullivan and it was good fun.

Eager to know what others were thinking, I took an unscientific poll from some of my friends who were in attendance throughout the run of the show (four shows) – some quite knowledgeable of opera and some not.

To a person, everyone loved the production. One said, “I laughed out loud.  It was playful and had sexual suggestions without being lewd.  The voices and acting were outstanding.”

One professor who heard that I didn‘t like “Orpheus” told my wife “That’s because Ken doesn’t understand the French culture during that time. It was very inflammatory.”

Maybe.  Others told me that it was because I didn’t understand the mythology.  Maybe.

Yet another friend wrote, “I loved Orpheus.  It was very risqué and I loved that.  I thought the topical references were clever and fun.”

The more adulation I heard from people whose opinions I respect, the more I was happy that I didn’t write a scathing review. 

Now, I don’t mind writing a negative review when most people like a show, if I can cite specific reasons for my opinion.  In this case, it was probably that I was in a bad mood (me? never!).

Some critics even change their mind. I remember when Time magazine’s critic ravaged the classic movie “Bonnie and Clyde” when it first came out in the early 70s. A couple of months later, the magazine recanted the review and put the movie on its cover saying that it was iconic.

The more mini-reviews I read, the more I realized, also, that I just didn’t get it.

One person wrote: “It was a hilarious take on the Orpheus-Eurydice story filled with glitter, hot pink and fishnet costumes.”

A French expert I know said, “I’m not familiar with the French libretto, but the translation into colloquial English was clever and entertaining.”

Another person with great knowledge of French history said, “They gave a fine representation of the vulgarity of the underside of Parisian society at that time.”

OK, I give up!  It was a great opera with a great cast.  It was just a bad night for me. Good thing I wasn’t writing a review.