the critical end

I love today's Post story about how restaurant mogul Jeffrey Chodorow has banned NYT food critic Frank Bruni from all 29 of his restaurants. I used to spend a good chunk of my working writer time as a newspaper critic, and I still ocassionally review this or that--especially on this blog. But I have also long felt that a lot of the culture critcrap that happens in our media environment is mildly unfair. Especially in small or even medium-sized markets (take Baltimore's classical music scene) where only one or two major critics work in one field, or in extremely large markets where one critic holds most of the power (say, Bruni in New York's food world--despite the presence of New York Magazine, the New Yorker, Zagat, etc.). In large cultural markets, or in cities that think they are large markets, it gets so crazy that critics critique each other (often the most crazy, low, and stupid of the bunch, but still). This, while the subject remains silent. I always admired Chodorow for his take-no-bullshit savvy, just as I admire the violinist Lara St. John who has written back to her critics about what she thinks of their often ridiculous reviews. Criticism is about being a part of a dialogue, so let the subjects fight back if it's gonna get ugly. It's a lot more pleasant than reading self-important, passive-aggressive critics scared of their own physical shadows write about each other, and it brings real guts  into a high-stakes game, one that has always influenced the subject's subsequent financial success but in words has felt way too removed from human emotion and reality. As USC students write to teachers in e-mails, Fight On, Chodorow.