A VIEW OF PERFORMANCE ASSESSMENT

I am somewhat perturbed or rather angry and unsettled by persons who hold themselves out as authorities and advisors on performance and presentation yet appear to have little notion of what they are doing.

My annoyance begins with the comment ‘actor turned writer’ or ‘the writer, an established actor…’ It suggests that the writer is perhaps not really a writer, and is merely indulging in some sort of displacement activity, or attempting to rise above his/her station. S/he is only an actor, so we must indulge him/her. I find the statement indicative of a rather narrow process of thinking as well as being stupid. 

I have always understood that producing material for publication was a form of writing and that people who professed to be journalists were themselves writers, or at least understood the meanings of the word. To use the phrase ‘actor turned writer’ in the context that it has been used shows a distinct lack of knowledge and understanding. I assume it is not a term these ‘writer’s’ would use when referring to the likes of William Shakespeare, Harold Pinter, John Osborn and many other ‘actors turned writers’.

So when a writer purports to address another writer’s work and proposes an evaluation of that work, then that assessment should be directed at the work and not the various attributes and additional skills the writer may have. Those additional skills will most likely be reflected in the work in any event, so it is even more important to address the work.

I would like to draw attention to writers who hold themselves out in particular as theatre critics, or journalists with a view of performance and performance theory.  Their work must be informed.

When dealing with a work that has been accepted as an accomplished piece of writing and has been performed many times, the critic’s emphasis is usually on the ‘production’, including the skills or lack thereof of the director, the set and costume designer, musicians, if any, technicians and the actors. In the case of a piece with a notable character it is the actor’s performance that comes under scrutiny – the best Hamlet, the worst Lear, the best Lady Macbeth or Lady Bracknell etc. What is most apparent is that the critic does not have to deal with the writer’ writing except in how great writer’s work has been performed.

Dealing with new material is something else.  If one is going to produce an assessment of a new work for publication then one must pay attention. One must carefully observe and listen. Whilst the observer must have imagination, concentration is the key, and if the mind wanders into pondering on how one is going to write ones assessment whilst looking at the work, then the critic has lost her way. Attempts at cleverness will always fail. Equally, expectation is ruinous to objective critical thought. Preconceived and fanciful notions are an obstacle to clear thinking, and this leads to bad and meaningless critical writing.

I do not suggest that there is anything wrong in expressing a view that a piece of work lacks accomplishment or does not meet a particular standard, but to dismiss a work with nonsensical comment simply to fill a column in a journal because one has nothing to say is a travesty. It is not writing.

F. Mountford

I recently attended a performance of a new play at The Park Theatre, in North London. A number of critics saw the production. Of the published comments one made me wonder if the writer had attended that same performance. In a piece just under 300 words in the Evening Standard, Fiona Mountford (about whom one knows nothing) expresses her own prejudices, boredom with life, and ignorance. She says nothing. She appears neither to have listened nor seen what was going on in the theatre. She exhibits the attention span of a gnat.  However, since the Evening Standard has become a free throw away paper, it is not surprising it proffers throwaway criticism.

Give it up Fiona or go back to school.