The Work of a Critic

One of my favorite movies is Ratatouille.  There is a part in Ratatouille where the food critic, Anton Ego, comes to review the restaurant.  Linguini and his little, food-loving rat, Remy frantically try to put together the lost cause of the restaurant to get a good review from Ego.  In the end, Ego finds out that the food was made by a rat.  In Ego's review, he writes, "In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so."

I had an experience like that.  And it's funny for me to be commenting on this, because I like to write critiques.  It is fun to read, and to write.  But, the other day, I was reading a review of the Hungarian pianist, Adam Gyorgy.  The review complained that he played too much Liszt.  I thought that was a rather stupid criticism.  Of course a Hungarian pianist, trained at the Bartok Conservatory and a graduate of the Liszt Conservatory is going to play a lot of Liszt.  The review also said that he would be more fitted to a lounge than to the concert hall where this critic saw him play.

I had a few recordings done by Adam Gyorgy, and I generally liked his style.  When I read this critique, I went and watched a few videos of him playing, wondering if it's just a live performance problem, or if he can't do well without the ability of several takes.  I found no indication of either.  Instead, I was left wondering what exactly this critic was getting at.  To me, the guy seemed to be a very talented pianist.  But, I guess, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.