As to making a judgment about whether it’s a good film or not a good film, I think that should be secondary and that ideally — and this is true of any kind of arts criticism, I believe — the role of the critic is to convey accurately what the experience is of watching this film, or play, or reading a book, to explain where it’s coming from.

If he or she does a good enough job, the reader or viewer should be able to tell whether or not they would like it, regardless of what the critic thinks.I tend to enjoy criticism that makes interesting points about works of art, rather than the thumbs-up, thumbs-down which tells you very little except for the critic’s personal taste.

- Nathaniel Rich, in an interview.

I’m pleased to remind readers that its a little over a week until the Mobile Symphony Orchestraopens their season with “Pictures at an Exhibition.” The concert is Sept. 8, at the Mobile Saenger Theatre. Also on the program: Pip Clarke will perform the Korngold Violin concerto, and the orchestra will play Berlioz’s “Roman Carnival Overture.”

The video that follows is a You Tube video of the first movement of Mussorgky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition.” (Don’t you love You Tube for things like this?)

In 2007 I snaked around the second floor of Saks Fifth Avenue. While beelining past the cocktail dresses, my little sister Dione pointed to a gorgeous group of frilly frocks.

“Look Ariel, cocktail dresses.”

We stopped briefly, and I sighed heavily, and said in a tone much like an addict:

“You know, I’ve really got to stop it with the cocktail dresses.”

I hoped that this was the first step: admitting I have a problem. Of course, I didn’t stick to my goals. Later that year I bought about three more cocktail dresses with no where to wear them, besides Mobile Symphony concerts and Mobile Opera performances.

In July I broke my cardinal rule: “Don’t try it on!” and slipped on a Cynthia Steffe dress (seen above) at Saks thinking that I’d only “see how it looks.” I dropped cash for it in record time, and let that “I-just-made-a-purchase-from-Saks” euphoria carry me home.

Not a month later and I was already falling back into a trap. I ordered a custom made Roland Mouret Galaxy dress in navy blue and for both dresses, a pair of paten leather peep toe 3 inch heels. The problem is that I keep buying and not wearing. My aqua blue Chloe is unworn, as is the gauzy tea length number I bought for the Itzhak Perlman concert. I planned on donning the Mouret to my birthday celebration, but it might be too over the top.

Every poet I’ve ever met was arrogant. They’ve all tried to impress me by listing the many family and friends who praise their work, and thing they should be published because they are the next so-and-so up-and-coming undiscovered genius. They then proceed to fill my e-mail box with mediocre prose, then ask me at every moments notice what I think.

“I’m not a fan of poetry,” I tell them. “So I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten a chance to read it fully.”

“Oh,” they say. “But you haven’t heard this poetry.” They re-send their work and request that I be honest. It’s usually something about romance or nature, and missing the appropriate vital signs.

“I read it,” I say back after scanning it.

“And?”

“Maybe a comma here,” I say.

“Oh yeah, I meant to put that.” Then they spend the entire conversation being defensive, explaining every move as if poetry were a calculated game of chess. My “honesty” to them is me “being mean.”

Then more poetry comes in. It’s a vicious and unfortunate cycle, especially after I’ve employed every excuse not to read their work. Being honest is hard when the reader is defensive, and even harder after explaining my picky tastes about poetry (and films, and jazz music). I am no expert. Asking for my opinion would be like asking for a two year olds opinion.

I always ask, at least, before pummeling people with writing and host a standing invitation to harsh criticism. How do writers learn without opinions and corrections from multiple venues? The answer is, they don’t. So for all the poets exclusively seeking praise, my mailbox is not open. 

This article illustrates City Opera’s attempt at reaching to the black community.  An excerpt:

One prong is their Opera-for-All festival, now in its third year, which offers $25 tickets for all seats in the theater on three evenings. This year’s festival includes a concert on September 6, showcasing the 2007-2008 season, and performances on September 7 and è of “La Boheme” and ” Don Giovanni.” City Opera’s executive director, Jane Gullong, said the company has surveyed its Opera-for-All audience, and 20% are people of color, a segment that breaks down to 10% Asian and 10% African-American, Hispanic, and everything else.The second prong of the effort includes productions such as ” Margaret Garner” that address the cultural heritage of groups who aren’t well-represented in the audience. The third prong, which City Opera’s new artisticé director, Gerard Mortier, has spoken about in his plans for the company, will be to take productions — most likely not of African-American-themed operas, but of European ones — to venues such as the Apollo Theater in Harlem.

I am greatly excited by their efforts to showcase operas without African American themes in their programs. At the risk of sounding snotty, I’ll admit that I run away from all such heritage concerts and shows. As a friend pointed out, some organizations think the only thing black audiences want to hear or see are slave stories and sprituals. We have a sophisticated palate to enjoy a little of everything just as next audience member, and like them, we get tired of spirituals every five minutes. How many renditions of “Porgy and Bess” and “Amazing Grace” can someone spit out? I thought these organizations knew their limits, and I commend them for the effort. As my friend said, it’s refreshing to go to an all-black choir performance and hear them belt out a nice show tune.

I fumble at celebrations and gatherings. I don’t like attending them, but enjoy their excitement. I hardly know enough people in town that the idea of doing something with anyone is attractive. My birthday (which nears) is always a mess: a fancy dinner where last minute reservations have been made. The evening proceeds as every Friday night does–conversation and steak with the family. Last year, we went to Café 615, and the same thing happened. I did receive lovely gifts: lots of Tchaikovsky recordings to add to my collection.

In my day dream world, my birthday parties are like photos out of NY Social Diary or Park Avenue Peerage, lots of swanky looking people holding glasses of champagne in newly bought party frocks from Saks. My sister somehow pulls off great parties each year, no party frocks, but lots of hip looking people. I’d never be able to beat her party this year: she rented out the VIP lounge at a local restaurant for an affair that began at 8 and ended after midnight.

This year, like I do every year, I said to myself, “I’m going to have a big bash!” But those aims were quickly murdered, as I recalled that all of my friends now live elsewhere. Including one of my best, who moved to New Orleans to attend Loyola as a vocal performance major (she’ll be famous soprano some day). Now I have no one to invite! And more importantly, who will go to the opera with me now!?

Being busy is no excuse for my lack of posts. I’ll be honest and admit that I really hate this blog. I hate my posts, I hate my phrasing. I can’t seem to keep readers, and think back to the good-old-days before July with my old blog that I actually liked to read.

When the arts events in Mobile pick up, hopefully so will the posts. In the meantime, I’m going to keep plugging along at this tepid pace and blog about whatever until a ray of hope appears.

My daily habits were interrupted twice today. Three times a week I settle with coffee and a copy of the New York Times, but it’s absence from the university hallways forced me to flip through an old copy of The Paris Review. As I re-read a memoir in the third floor break room, a girl sat near me on her cellular phone.

“Well, I really had fun with you these past…” she began to say. She was speaking to a male, I could tell it. “But, my family won’t go for it.”

I wondered what they wouldn’t “go for.” Was she pregnant? Was she caught into some blood war like “Juliet?” Immediately I stopped reading and started listening.

“My family doesn’t like that you live with your ex…they like got mad at me for being with you and not getting mad at you fa’ [for] that,” she said. I learned from listening that he lived in another time zone, and perhaps traveled while he worked. Perhaps it was their first time apart, since she went away to college. She told him to call her back, and unwrapped a honey bun to accompany her coffee.

I complain often to friends about my nonexistent romantic life–even as I near 23. It’s a subject I can’t let go off, nor get away from. In periods of appreciated solitude, something reminds me of a life portion that I’ve never experienced. And though the girl was near to tears, I suddenly wished that I was her. I would take it all, good and bad if it were offered to me.

At eleven I gathered my things, slipped a bookmark in the Review and started back to my English Lit class. I could hear her phone ringing as I exited the break room. He had called back.

The Internet is an integral part of attracting young audiences. Symphony orchestras, opera companies, ballet companies, theatre troupes, etc., should aim at offering frequently updated websites (and even better, blogs and Myspace pages.

The web allows future arts patrons to be curious without consequence. They can watch a video excerpt from a show rehearsal, hear portions of music to be featured on a concert program without taking financial risks, like buying tickets, Cd’s, going to shows, or potentially wasting evenings in opera houses.

These web sites should aim at breaking down as many barriers as possible and be interactive. Let the vocalists, actors, and dancers guest blog. Allow visitors to send them e-mail questions to be answered. Invite web visitors to special events and give first time ticket buyers who purchase online receive discounts, perks, etc. Organizations should host separate sites promoting their young benefactor groups and discount societies. Even message boards would be positive.

Once I break the news to Dione (my little sister and principal dancer) that Seth Orza is leaving New York City Ballet, we’ll have a good cry. I got the news from friend and blogger Tonya Plank’s equally tragic post.

Dione had been wishing and praying that Orza would make a brief appearance in Mobile Ballet’s upcoming production of “Gala Evening of the Stars,” but I doubt that will happen now.