An experiment.

"Think it's easy, Mr. Snarkier-Than-Thou? You try writing a play."

Or to put it another way, Those who can, do. Those who can't, review!

Need a critic be a practioner in a medium in order to be credible reviewing work within that medium? Herein the Orange Group will explore the question. For novelists to review books is common; for playwrights to review theatre, somewhat less so. Francois Truffaut and Patti Smith wrote film and music criticism, respectively, before prioneering new approaches to filmmaking and pop music. But these scattered examples may be the exceptions that prove the rule: Many working critics, including plenty of very good ones, claim expertise in nothing more than their own taste.

We begin by surveying our fellow Fellows' experience as dancers. Sound off below!

I don't even like dancing at weddings...

I expect to learn a lot from the upcoming dance (and dance history) lesson while dreading every minute of it. Having something of a performance background, I'm not exactly graceless in my movements, but when it comes to actual dancing, I've been prone to either hopping about like a chicken on crack (my wife's words) or doing the boxiest box step since Robert DeNiro lurched across the tile floor in "Awakenings."

Expectations? Since I know zilch about the language and grammar of dance, I expect to be blown away by the explanations of what every little toe turn or hip swivel means. Without that background, reviewing dance is kind of like watching the Super Bowl without knowing anything about the game. It's loud, it's green, and you know people are running back and forth to get to the other side of the field, but everything in between is a long blur. Sure, you can describe the costumes down to the last leotard, but making any kind of critical judgment beyond, "I was bored" or "I liked the Sinatra music" is well-nigh impossible.

As for dance in the context of musical theater, I'm more familiar with that (having been a theater critic for more than two decades), but the dance element would always get pretty short shrift in my reviews so I could concentrate on other elements I cared more about (book, score, performance). Heck, if I can get one good, meaningful sentence to add to my musical reviews about the dance elements, I'll be grateful to the class forever.

No Gene Kelly

I always thought I had some grace and coordination, but then followed a dream of taking a tap-dancing class (hello, Gene Kelly) in college and failed to get either foot to work right.
Dance shoes abandoned, I have lived vicariously through years of lessons for my daughters and niece, and innumerable recitals, but can multiple viewings of "The Nutcracker," "Mister Golden Sun" and Shania Twain numbers give you the proper critical eye for dance criticism? Doubtful. I would never attempt to review a ballet or modern dance company with my lack of experience, but how about musical theater? Is it important to know how they're executing a dance to be able to appreciate how the movement fits/enhances the story and what kind of emotional connection it makes?
Research is always helpful, and I am intrigued to learn more, both academically and physically, in Thursday's class. Will it help me be a better reviewer? I'm looking forward to finding out.

Later note: For critics who want to do some general research ahead of time, some options:

-- artwork.ed/arts/teachers/standards/dance.htm -- guidelines from The American Alliance for Theater and Education and music educators through Herberger College of the Arts in Arizona

-- dancecritics.org/20 questions.html -- from the Dance Critics Assocation

-- exploredance.com/article.htm?id=1558 -- tips on how to write a dance review, by Robert Abrams

As a critic, he didn't know Jack.

Encores! Director Jack Viertel worked as a theatre critic for the Los Angeles Herald Examiner and other publications in the 1980s before becoming dramaturg of the Mark Taper Forum in 1985. Beginning later that decade, he worked with Jujamcyn Theatres on a string of successful Broadway shows, including The Producers, The Full Monty, Proof, Jelly’s Last Jam and a number of others.

In his popular New York University class, Viertel presents the “code” of the Broadway musical, explaining the placement and purpose of each song within the narrative. I asked Viertel if this formula had been apparent to him during his years as a professional critic. He answered that it had not: Experience as a mere observer, even an unusually alert and insightful one, never revealed to him the “skeleton” that undergirds nearly every successful musical. But once he began to create his own shows, his collaborators inducted him into the lexicon of the profession -- the I Want song, the Conditonal Love Song -- it quickly became obvious, as his names for these types of songs tell us.

Viertel added that he could never return to criticism after working to create musical theatre himself. He’s now too sympathetic to anyone who takes on the problem of making an original musical theatre piece.

We question NEA Fellows Colin & Roxana about their feeling on taking a dance workshop and reviewing dance performances BEFORE our session with Kay Cole.

A Woman Who Needs No Introduction

Every great artist should have a Sasha Anawalt introduction. Kay Cole, the brilliant choreographer and teacher, receives due venetation before her critics-special dance class in Westwood, April 16, 2009.

The NEA Fellows take a dance class with Kay Cole at a Geffen Playhouse rehearsal space.