About these Archives

These archives include music criticism, dance reviews, some art and theater commentaries, and educational writing. Stories archived here were originally published in a number of newspapers, including the Boston Herald, Cape Cod Times, New Bedford Standard-Times, any of the Gatehouse Media newspapers, and many magazines, including Early Music America, Chamber Music America, the Improper Bostonian, and Musician. Educational work appeared mainly in two publications for the National Association for Music Educators—Music Alive! and Teaching Music

No attempt has been made to make these archives comprehensive. These stories represent only some of the thousands that I've written. 

Most of the material was published years ago, and was relevant only to certain performances or exhibitions. Current work of this kind is available on Twitter @PowersKeith, which can be linked to under About the Author as well as on Twitter.

These stories fall into two main categories, reviews and features. Although I had written many recorded music reviews, I did not review many live performances until I began working for the Boston Herald, around 1998. I didn't realize how lucky I was. Working for the chief critic, Ted Medrek (byline, T.J. Medrek, Jr.), we would meet a couple times a year and draw up a general plan. Adjusting this during the season, we made sure the Herald had a presence at nearly every major musical event in Boston.

The Herald had many talented arts journalists. Tedd Bale was an insightful dance critic, from whom I learned much. Mary Jo Palumbo and Mary Sherman, with others, wrote about the visual arts. Terry Byrne was the chief theater critic. We worked for editors that had a great sense for building informative sections—Paul McLean, Jim Kiley, and especially Joel Brown. And we were following some deeply respected writers who had built the Herald's arts pages—Eliot Norton (drama), Josiah Fisk and Ellen Pfeiffer (music), among many others.

Writing reviews is a rush, at least it was during the days when they were published on edition (overnight). Going to a performance, filing a story by 11 or 11:30, then waking up to find it printed and on the doorstep—those days are largely in the past. Late night copy desks are entirely dedicated to sports and news now, and online outlets have diluted the need for overnight coverage anyway. 

After writing many reviews of recorded music, reviewing performances seemed relatively straightforward. Things happen in performances. And the sense of whether a performer has successfully communicated to an audience or not, along with the notion that an artist really has something unique to say—these things are hard to miss. Whether that success or failure on the artist's part shows up coherently in a review—that's the critic's business.

Writing features (or advancers) is a different kind of pleasure. Interviewing can be tricky business, depending on the writer's preparation, and on the subject's willingness, personality and schedule. Given only five or six hundred words, most of the time, material for an interesting story can be acquired in just a few minutes conversation. It never works that way, thank goodness.

Spending forty-five minutes talking about music with Garrick Ohlsson, Yo-Yo Ma or Andrew Norman can be a lifetime thrill. Thousands of these conversations have greatly improved my understanding of the lifestyle and dedication required to become a successful performing artist. 

Sometimes brief interviews under trying circumstances can lead to unexpectedly good stories. A much delayed interview with Midori, finally conducted while she was racing through some airport to make a connection, lasted only five minutes or so. But hearing her open up not only about what it took to fulfill dreams of playing in major concert halls, but what it took to deal with the challenges of being offstage with too much time and too many temptations available—that was revealing, and shocking as well.

It's not always a joy. Some artists, too familiar with the sound of ovations, have decided they are greater than the process, and conversations with these performers have been a chore. Mark Morris, Jeremy Denk and others may simply have difficult personalities, been tired from travel, or (perhaps rightly) thought interviews beneath their station—it happens. 

But most discussions have been pleasant and intriguing. Some have been unforgettable. Sitting in Seiji Ozawa's office at Symphony Hall in Boston when the score of a new commission arrived, and turning the pages for him at the piano bench as he looked through it—that I'll never forget. Talking with the normally reserved BSO concertmaster Malcolm Lowe, soon after the passing of maestro Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos, and hearing his voice break with emotion over the phone. Speaking with Jung-Ho Pak, conductor of the Cape Symphony Orchestra, for more than two hours, discussing seemingly everything from music to life to the afterlife, left me covered with sweat and exhilarated.

Thoughtful conversations were the norm, and I'll remember forever with fondness interviews with Elena Ruehr, David Deveau, Robert Pinsky (the poet laureate, about his musical collaborations), Marc-André Hamelin, Judith Gordon, Richard Pittman, Sarah Heaton, René Fleming, Pierre-Laurent Aimard, Gunther Schuller and many others. And those times when I've been able to work more closely with subjects—like the multiple interviews and give-and-take with Boston Baroque's Martin Pearlman, for a story about his ensemble's 40th anniversary season in Early Music America, or the many discussions with the late composer Lee Hyla, traveling as we did on Amtrak between Boston and New York, about his music and about challenging works by composers like Wallingford Riegger and Osvaldo Golijov as well—those conversations were a rich source of professional development.