I have always endeavored to find both the good and the bad in anything I write about, and where possible, be helpful in my comments if they are negative. It is not easy to do so, but I feel it is incumbent on arts writers to do their best to do so.

The other day I got an e-mail that questioned why I praised a production of Romeo and Juliet, while other critics in Toronto papers gave it thumbs down. Another asked me how come I praised the singing in Terracotta Warriors, while others found the soprano's voice screechy. I cannot speak for other critics, although I sometimes feel that perhaps there is a lack of understanding of what is happening.

In the case of the soprano, I gave my reasons in the review, but will reiterate them here. She sang in the manner of Chinese opera, which is very different from what we are used to hear. The use of the voice is totally different. But, since we have little opportunity to actually experience this art form here, not every person writing about 'music' will understand this.

In my case, I happen to have attended Peking Opera in Beijing under most trying circumstances. And, once I spent a delightful afternoon in Shanghai in its Yu Yuan Garden, which at the time was almost empty of visitors. A Chinese friend, who had always wanted to be a Peking Opera singer, looked with longing at the open, empty stage of the small court theatre among the many buildings of the more than 400-year-old Ming Dynasty complex. Being a Westerner, I had no hesitation in egging him on to clamber on the stage and give us a performance, and so Lian did. It was a memorable moment of many we had in Shanghai, a city now very changed, but which at the time we greatly enjoyed. You have to have an ear for this kind of music. For instance, it always delights me when I hear a Chinese instrument being played by someone in the Toronto Subway. But, I have also encountered people who found this music annoying. I have many Chinese music tapes, and whenever I feel in the mood, a hot steaming cup of green tea at my side, I listen to them. So, if I praised the singer in a mostly terrible production, I did so with a keen understanding of Chinese music.

Now, when it comes to Romeo and Juliet, I feel some of my colleagues went a little too far in their dislike of this, to me, fine production. Whatever their reasons, some of the comments appear to me to be almost bitchy. Why would a particular writer go so far as to comment on the spelling of "Friar Lawrence" in the program as being wrong as if this individual did not have plenty of other comments in his review that showed a dislike of the production. It added nothing to the already very negative review. And why would this same writer find it necessary to harp a second time on this show, in a review of an entirely different show at a totally different venue, by calling it "that Romeo and Juliet debacle in a Toronto park last week"?

A reader of my review pointed this out to me, with thanks, since I am not a regular reader of the various Toronto papers. Time does not permit it. Can one blame the public for feeling that reviewers have hidden agendas at times? Sometimes, so one gets the impression, writers are more interested in their own 'witty' lines than in giving a good assessment of a play or whatever.

All I can say is that when I write a review, I try to base it on my knowledge, on my experiences in the arts and in life. At the same time, I try to be as objective as possible. In the case of Romeo and Juliet, I truly enjoyed the unfettered production, free from artifice. I liked the natural speech employed by the actors. True, not all of them measured up to expectations, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with the blocking, the staging, the direction of this play. And I certainly didn't mind that the director chose to give us the whole script, without the usual cuts. True, it would have been better if the evening had been warmer for this production, but I came prepared for the cold evening. If others found it long because they didn't count on the cold, that is their problem.

And, as to that comment about the spelling of Friar Lawrence, there are several different editions of Shakespeare's works by many publishers. I have various copies in which the spellings vary from Lawrence to Laurence. Lawrence was the preferred spelling of very early ages, and is usually found in North American editions. Laurence is found more in the British editions from the mid-1800s onward, influenced by the French spelling of the name. It comes from the same influence that eventually would add ou to such words as labor/labour, color/colour. Read Middle English, and you seldom find the 'u' in such words.

Another point I want to make is that the Oxford, or theatre English we get to hear is a fairly recent form of English speech taken in the long history of the language. Queen Beth did not speak like Queen Lizzy does now, believe me. Regional speech is now making its comeback in Britain. People no longer want to hide their origins, either from class or from region. It makes for colorful speech, but not everyone can understand it. Fortunately, I can, and I enjoy the differences. Also, for those, who are not that conversant with the history of English, let it be known that we Canadians speak a language that is far closer related to the "old" English than the refined English spoken by BBC announcers etc. So, keep on using natural speech, please, when presenting Shakespeare. And, maybe, sometime in the future someone will have the courage to even give us Milton and Malory. Now, that would really be an adventure in English. But, I have strayed from the original subject.

Let me tell you one anecdote that goes back a couple of decades. When I used to review the Shaw Festival on a regular basis, a particular reviewer from a major Toronto newspaper used to sit in front of me. One day, during the presentation of a comedy — I can't recall which one — this individual almost fell out of his seat with laughter. (Reviewers usually get the aisle seat) On reading his review a few days later, I find that he is telling his readers that this was a very dull comedy. So, why was he laughing?