If you want to be an Art journalist you should read through these:Taking the Tweed Out of the Arts Journalism Wardrobe


By Poynter Institute (more by author )

E-mail this item
Print this Page
Add Your Comments on this Article


At the annual convention of the American Association of Sunday and Feature Editors in St. Petersburg, Fla., this year, one of the panel discussions was titled "Taking the Tweed Out of the Arts Journalism Wardrobe." Poynter Online invited the panelists to recap their remarks about ways to defy the stereotypes about coverage of art and culture. Three of them took us up on our offer:

Diane Bacha (panel moderator)
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel , assistant managing editor/arts and entertainment:

W
e are here to talk about keeping arts coverage relevant ó keeping our wardrobe from getting too musty, if you will. But first, let's get one thing out of the way:

In most newsrooms, the word "art" scares people.

Let's face it, it just does not have enough Y chromosomes for the average newsroom crowd. It is seen as a nice but non-essential part of the daily news report.

The word "culture" is not far behind, but it's OK if you put the word "pop" in front of it. "Culture" is elitist. "Pop" is fizzy and fun and it means you are OK if you watch a lot of TV.
"Culture" is elitist. "Pop" is fizzy and fun and it means you are OK if you watch a lot of TV.

We can talk about why it has gotten that way, and what we've done to contribute to this perception. But let's not. Let's talk instead about how old-fashioned this point of view is, and how we can grab a lot of attention with arts and culture stories if we pay enough attention.

We are all sick by now of Richard Florida and his Bohemia Index , in which he made a connection (and I summarize here) between a vibrant arts and cultural scene and an economically healthy city. He believes that "culture has taken the initiative in promoting change." But let's take a page from him for a moment.

Let's assume that newsrooms get that, and they're as intrigued with a city's cultural life as Richard Florida is. Imagine that. If it were true, eyes would not be glazing over in the daily news meetings when our turn at the table comes up. And if it were true, we would be writing some different stories.

"Cue," the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel 's arts and culture section.
Instead of only following institutions founded generations ago, we'd be watching what newcomers are doing, including newcomers who may speak languages other than English.
We'd be paying attention to art schools, and writing about trends emerging from them.
We'd be paying attention to artists who DON'T go to art schools.
Our visual arts writers would be talking to our tech writers about digital art.
We might be rethinking our beat structures, perhaps getting rid of the walls between "arts," "entertainment," and "pop culture."
Weíd be watching how playwrights, poets, and painters are responding to the presidential campaign ó not just Jay and Dave.

I can see my first city editor rolling his eyes right about now. "This stuff is gonna go over real big with Betty who calls for the Lotto results," he'd say. Well, he's got a point. We have to write in accessible ways, and we still have the job of telling interesting stories.

Arts editors are often pushed to justify the relevance of what they do. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But it's better to push ourselves, and we would like to use this opportunity to do just that.

Steven Winn, Arts and Culture Critic, San Francisco Chronicle :
I

 spent the first 21 years of my career at the San Francisco Chronicle covering theater, as a critic and reporter. Devoting that time to a focused arts beat was a source of pleasure and gratification in too many ways to count. Depth is not something newspapers always foster; concentrating on theater freed me to pursue it.

The risk of depth is tunnel vision. Over the years, I felt a kind of creeping alienation. No one but a critic attends the theater 150 times a year. I was becoming, gradually and inexorably, self referential. I wrote about theater in terms of other theater, because that was what I was living.
No one but a critic attends the theater 150 times a year.

Real people, which is to say readers, experience the arts in an altogether different way. They go to movies, read books, visit art museums, go to work and the beach as well as the theater, argue about politics, listen to the radio, watch television, fall in love, love (or despise) ballet. I wanted to write about that, about the way that the arts and the world we live in every day are woven together in intricate, overlapping ways. I wanted to write critically and analytically about those things without being dutybound to review, rank, and finely calibrate my responses to a series of stage productions.

Last year, in a staff reorganization following the merger of San Francisco's two papers, I proposed a position as Arts and Culture Critic. More or less on faith, my editors acquiesced.

"Datebook," the San Francisco Chronicle 's arts and culture section.
Since then I've written about the nature of beauty, an epidemic of lying, why people cry in the presence of art, talk radio, theater lobbies, arts funding, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Paul Klee, protest art, the risks and rewards of performing alone, the Bob Dylan plagiarism case, interactive museums, the comparable effects of sound design in Cirque du Soleil and "Medea," the primacy of the body in various arts, artistic revision, originality, and amusement parks.

Some of these ideas have turned out well; others fell flat. I'm a little fearful of computing my batting average. What I do know, and what has been consistent throughout my 18 arts and culture months, is a kind of reader response I rarely had as a beat critic. People truly want to engage with ideas and ways of synthesizing their arts experience and their lives.

It took me two decades to figure out how deeply curious, thoughtful, and creative the readers are. After years of conditioned responses to letters, phone calls, and e-mails that either agreed with or carped at my reviews, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I'm finally getting to know my readers.

None of this is meant to denigrate or disparage the art of reviewing. I still write straight reviews from time to time -- of theater, music, dance, film -- and realize each time how elegant and challenging a form it is.

Vital as they are, reviews need not be the start and end point of a newspaper's critical attention to the arts. Without a set review schedule, I'm never sure where my next piece might come from and where it might lead. That's the scary part of my new job. And the very best part of it, too.

Christopher Blank, performing arts writer, The Commercial Appeal :
I

n every city outside New York and Los Angeles, the performing arts writer will NOT add one of the following stories to his newspaper's entertainment budget this year:
REVIEW - Encore Dinner Theater's "Guys and Dolls" bedazzles with Keanu Reeves as a peculiar Sky Masterson.
NEW - After a lengthy search, Meredith Monk is named artistic director of Shelby Heights Community Arts Ensemble. Says she'll "focus on quality."
PREVIEW - Newly discovered Mozart Choral Cantata gets world premiere at St. Mary's Episcopal Church. Simon Rattle to conduct.

If only the prospects were so alluring! Most of us get by on interviews with B-list celebrities. The work is plentiful, but also expendable. A paper's need for a sole authority on theater, dance, or classical music is diminishing along with readership. You can hear the newsroom budget ax grinding.

During this panel discussion, we talked about ways to keep the subject matter and the writing relevant and, in theory, help a paper's circulation. Not coincidentally, arts organizations across the country are facing the same problems with regard to attendance. How do they target a younger demographic and not alienate older, reliable fans?
As a young arts writer, I feel proudly bohemian knowing that the struggling artist and I have job insecurity in common.

As a young arts writer, I feel proudly bohemian knowing that the struggling artist and I have job insecurity in common. We both depend on a small but loyal group of arts consumers. As often as I've been told that my job is independent of the arts ó the detached "voice of the paper," so to speak ó I'm beginning to see that we're all pretty much in the entertainment business.

Arts organizations can teach us a few things about entertaining readers. After all, they have to re-market their product ó often a tired old play or an unknown ballet ó year after year.

Let's start by rethinking the tone of our "voice."

I'd like to say I'm no longer pompous or stodgy. Or that teenagers across the city are addicted to my edgy hip-hop patois. Not. Still, editors and writers can make some attitude changes that could help coverage in the long run. Here are a few:

1. Try fanaticism for a change. In the sports section of the paper, they write with bullhorns. In the arts section, they write with mops and buckets. What makes the sports section so exciting to read?

Well, for one, these guys are the ultimate cheerleaders for their subject matter. Can a dance review be as action-packed and emotionally exciting as a big game? I say yes! I propose fanatical enthusiasm for the beat, which should come across on the page. It should grab you, engage you, and make you want to know more.

Sports writers want you to feel that every game is earth-shatteringly IMPORTANT. I feel this way about the arts in my community. I'm not saying we should treat the subject matter with a velvet glove or go easy on a bad play. But there's a subtle difference in a review that calls a bad show an affront to all art and a review that chalks it up as a loss for the team.

2. Expand the repertoire. Performing arts writers ó me included ó easily get bogged down in a routine of reviewing and previewing traditional art forms. However, more people are experiencing a wide variety of arts that pass under the radar, such as through church concerts or at sporting events. Look at shows like Blast! on Broadway, which turned Drum and Bugle Corps into a theatrical experience. I was surprised to discover that the cheerleaders for our professional basketball team had to take classical ballet lessons as a job requirement.

Find stories that tell people, "Hey, you may not know it, but the thing you've been watching is art."

3. Speak the gospel, hear the gospel. Being receptive to feedback and open to change is essential. Arts reporters should adapt to the tastes of the community, not the other way around.

To some extent, that means being accessible, not sitting in the critics' box like Statler or Waldorf ó you know, the vulturine theater critics from The Muppet Show. I make it a point to sit next to actors at plays, sneak backstage after a classical music concert and ask the musicians about their performance, bum a cigarette off a ballerina I've just reviewed.

I've learned a lot about how the "voice of the paper" is perceived. For instance, several who've met me in person have said that they expected someone "much older" judging by the writing. Ouch. I'm still working on that.

From the other side, arts editors should regularly attend performances (and in cases where papers don't accept comps, those papers should pay for tickets). In this way, the whole department is involved in promoting arts coverage, not just a gung-ho reporter.

For arts groups, constant shapeshifting is a crucial means for survival. Applying it to arts coverage isn't far behind.