The Isherwood Files: Should Donors Put Their Names on Elevators? Should Critics Speak on Ads for Events They Will Later Review?

NY Times theater critic Charles Isherwood had lots of fun, in last Sunday's "Arts & Leisure" section, mocking a common and (to my mind) innocuous method by which arts institutions encourage and acknowledge major donors---ubiquitous naming opportunities.

Isherwood decries the "veritable carnival of nomenclature" and wonders:

What became of those wealthy philanthropists who used to support arts organizations and other not-for-profit and charitable institutions without requiring that their names be slapped somewhere---anywhere, it sometimes seems---on a building?

But in the nine circles of hell that are nonprofit fundraising, surely the mildest sin is allowing benefactors to attach their names to parts of buildings. The Smithsonian recently had a much thornier sponsorship issue to deal with, but even the question of whether to "accept money for a marine science enterprise from a group supported by hundreds of oil companies" (as the Washington Post described it) might have been worth serious thought if it could be convincingly argued that the donor would have absolutely no influence on the show. (In this case, though, it might well be that the appearance of conflict of interest was just too great to go ahead with it.)

As for museum naming opportunities, another recent salvo came from Gawker, which posted a video [via] that mocked the labeling of the New Museum's elevators. It IS a bit silly. But what real harm is done by giving these donors a lift? Acknowledging largesse in a lasting, public manner may help to encourage others who are philanthropically inclined. That's all to the good.

The Brooklyn Museum took the naming concept a step further, some years back, when it allowed members of the public to "adopt" an artwork by providing a donation for it, which would earn them written acknowledgement on the adoptee's wall label. This outside-the-box resourcefulness unleashed a storm of outrage from those who thought this was somehow cheapening the art. But giving members of the public a chance to feel a personal stake in individual artworks while helping the museum sounds like a win-win to me.

I'm much more bothered by Charles Isherwood's own recent crossing of proper boundaries---his personal foray into advertising for the Broadway play whose opening he reviews in today's paper---Tracy Letts' "August: Osage County."

In the ad, which I heard frequently on the radio before the stagehands' strike, Isherwood's own voice is heard extolling the play, which he had favorably reviewed in its original production in Chicago. The ad is largely drawn from what Isherwood said on the NY Times' preview-of-the-season podcast (which can be accessed as an "audio slideshow" on the webpage for today's review). But he clearly re-recorded his comments for the ad, where he eschews the monotonous, dispassionate tone of his Times podcast and pumps up the volume with a more dynamic, ad-friendly delivery.

I was so surprised by this critic's direct pitch to potential ticket buyers that I taped it. Here's a verbatim excerpt:

Isherwood: This is a blisteringly funny play...and the superb Steppenwolf production is being imported whole. So New York audiences can reacquaint themselves with this company's fiery acting style. And that in itself is reason to see this very ambitious and entertaining new American play.

Announcer: When a critic is this excited before a play even opens, the time to get tickets is now. Call or visit Telecharge.com today.

But don't just believe me. You can hear Isherwood for yourself:

Today's review was, expectedly, a rave. But what if Isherwood had found that the New York production was not nearly as praiseworthy as the Chicago original? Could he have been straight with us, after encouraging us to go out and buy those tickets?