First, Dobrin raises the question of whether Morales is “the thin edge of the wedge,” because the orchestra is threatening to cut salaries, musicians, and the length of the season—all valid reasons for top musicians to seek work elsewhere.

Second, for similar reasons, Dobrin questions whether the orchestra could retain Morales or replace him with another top clarinetist. But, Dobrin writes, “Lurking in the background is the hypocrisy that has long run through orchestral personnel decisions.”

That hypocrisy, according to Dobrin, is the supposed concealment of identity by audition screens. Dobrin points out that Morales’s wife and sister-in-law are both members of the orchestra, an unlikely event, or as Dobrin puts it, a “ludicrous proposition: that when auditions draw hundreds of aspirants, the most qualified musician just happens to be related to someone already in the organization.”

His two hats—reporting on the orchestra as well as writing critical reviews- allow him to identify issues with the organization and give readers context for those issues. It’s highly synthetic work at which Dobrin excels. The possibility of losing a principal clarinetist does not, on its face, seem like the base for a discussion of labor practices, but how Dobrin covers his beat makes that possible. Regardless of whether the Inquirer can justify the space it dedicates to classical music, Dobrin’s synthetic and mutually sympathetic reporting and criticism certainly make the case for justifying his space.

On the pop music tip and with the Halloween news peg, music writer John Vettese profiles a zombie band called Conversations with Enemies in the October 27 issue of City Paper; the band played two shows Halloween weekend. The peg obviously makes sense, but the story structure is arts-and-culture Mad Libs, with the tale of how the band got together, why they do what they do, how they’re a zombie band but they want people to think they’re good musicians, and so forth. This isn’t to dismiss the band or Vettese, who is very knowledgeable about the Philadelphia music scene. The bone I’m picking is that this piece is formulaic in a way that reflects the current (poor) state of cultural coverage in both of Philadelphia’s alt-weeklies.

This formula, usually derived from a single interview with the subject, is: here’s a band/actor/artist who you may have heard of but probably not; here’s the silly/serious/circumspect/serendipitous way that they got together/found his way to the stage/picked her genre and subject; here’s how they’re maturing/evolving/hoping for the future.

It’s too often replicated in both alt-weeklies. Unearthing interesting cultural players is surely part of the alt-weekly mission, but I am so tired of reading the same story. The band sounds fun, but the story is, well, boring. Sorry!

- Nick Gilewicz

This piece is poorly structured. It opens with three graphs about why Philadelphia producer Aaron Levinson likes nouveau Gypsy music, and never quotes him. The third graph implies that he’s the man behind this week’s Caravan Festival event, but it’s unclear. Amorosi offers up quotes from members of Philadelphia bands that explore this genre—Erik Petersen of Mischief Brew and Elliot Levin of the West Philadelphia Orchestra—but doesn’t explore the genre much himself. And the piece equates “Baltic,” “Balkan,” and “Gypsy,” which are three different things. But through these interviews, Amorosi finds local ties to this musical movement, which the Inquirer‘s TV, film, and gossip columns frequently fail to provide for their genres.

But this piece caught my attention because of Aaron Levinson’s name. He’s a moderately well-known producer, having won a Grammy, and he’s produced a wide array of incredibly cool projects, including the albums “The Philadelphia Experiment” and “The Detroit Experiment.” I did a quick dive in to Lexis-Nexis, and apparently Levinson’s never been profiled (anywhere!), so the Inquirer would be a natural fit, right?

Wrong. For quite some time now, Inquirer cultural coverage, and particularly its reviews and previews, too often has informed readers about what’s going on without discussing the reasons that what’s going on is important. This may be a philosophical difference between their approach to criticism and arts reporting and mine, but I’d still argue that criticism and arts reporting should generate synthetic pieces that shed light on not only activities in the region, but also the significance thereof.

Second, after reading the article, I don’t know what the music sounds like. (Well, I do, but because I’ve heard it, not because Amorosi described it.) One apology for the Inquirer‘s approach is that the newspaper is for a general audience, and should be comprehensive and accessible. In this article, Petersen, of Philadelphia’s Mischief Brew, describes his group thusly: “Above all else, we’re a punk rock band that incorporates a variety of influences into our songs, from Gypsy-punk to circus music to traditional English folk.” Of these four genres, the only one you can assume an average reader has heard is circus music, so the general-audience argument starts to crumble here.

Finally, the newspaper industry has bemoaned the decreasing space allocated for everything, including arts and culture stories. So burning 500 words on a musical trend that’s rather old hat, and at the same time doing a middling job of informing readers what that music even sounds like, seems a little wasteful. But that’s the nature of the preview.

- Nick Gilewicz

(photo by J.J. Tiziou via PennLive)

The essence of this story Res’s return to Philadelphia and her transition into an indie artist, and the peg is a monthlong Sunday-night residency Res is doing at Silk City in Northern Liberties. The piece is also set against the general implosion of the music industry. Her first album was out on MCA, which was absorbed by Geffen, and although she survived the transition, other, bigger artists were given priority despite Res’s selling 300,000 copies of How I Do. Her second album wasn’t released at all, although downloads of Black.Girls.Rock! can be easily found.

Still, Res has some profile, according to Murtha’s article. She toured with Gnarls Barkley, singing backup on the tour to support their first album, and Murtha’s article opens with Res onstage with Idle Warship, a collaboration with Talib Kweli, one of the most respected MCs in hip hop, and Canadian cross-genre artist Graph Nobel, who is less well-known but has popped up here and there in the scene.

While there are some interesting and sometimes tangential nuggets – Res’s early songwriting partner was Santigold, aka Santi White, who, much to my surprise, turns out to be disgraced Philadelphia political-insider Ron White‘s daughter – and Murtha does offer a lot of context for the points mentioned above, the piece seems to sag in the middle.

At one point, 44 graphs of nothing but Murtha’s and Res quotations exist between any other sources. This evinces two problems.

First, the article is not terribly well-sourced: Murtha quotes from interviews with Res, Rita Cavell (an early teacher of Res), Bruce Warren of WXPN (to give context for Res’s first album), Denise Ballard (Res’s mother), and DJ Aura (a fan at a recent concert). Their quotes are few, and don’t contribute a tremendous amount to a 3,300-word article.

Second, Murtha burns a number of Res quotations on quotidian matters. About Santigold: “‘I called her and she was like, “Yeah we should write songs together,”‘ Res says. ‘So that turned into my staying in Brooklyn every weekend that summer.’” On the album delay: “‘It wasn’t until I was done with my album and mixing it and realized they weren’t doing the necessary steps into putting this album out.’” More on the album delay: “‘[The label execs] said, “You left the label but you [can't] take your music with you.”‘”

My point here is that this article could easily be tightened by 1,000 words. But then what will fill that space? PW does many things well, but there’s really only the room—and I’d assume, the budget—for one feature per issue, as the paper is formatted these days. And this article is an example of something PW‘s had a problem with for a while, especially in bigger culture features: articles are reasonably well-researched, but need deeper sourcing and are too loose. Talib Kweli’s working with Res? His imprimatur still matters: try to get him on the phone! You cite label heads? Call ‘em up! The worst thing that happens is that Ron Fair, the former head of Geffen, doesn’t return your calls.

Nevertheless, Murtha does a pretty solid job of illustrating the career of an artist about whom I new little. I just want to see more, that’s all.

- Nick Gilewicz

A lengthy story – after the jump, it takes up over half of a broadsheet page – Dobrin details Conyers path from Savannah to the Curtis Institute, and then to the Grand Rapids Symphony, the Atlanta Symphony, and then to Philadelphia.

In addition to Conyers, Dobrin interviewed one of Conyers’s past teachers, one of his current colleagues in the Philadelphia Orchestra, and Alison Vulgamore, the president of the orchestra. But this is one of the reasons for the Hoot(ish) – those sources are the entirety of a Page One story. And while the piece pays due attention to how a prominent African American on stage (Conyers is the assistant principal bassist, a fairly visible position) can help cultivate interest from the black community, and how Conyers experience “dovetails nicely in Philadelphia, where the orchestra is on the brink of a major transformation emphasizing community and education,” I’m almost more intrigued by the prospect of that story than by Conyers’s profile.

Dobrin, either unintentionally or subtly, also underscores the slow, ongoing erosion of the status of the Philadelphia Orchestra, which has suffered a lengthy recent history of labor strife and has had trouble attracting a music director befitting its status:

“Conyers is considered such a catch that some observers fear he’ll behired away. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra is holding November auditions for a principal bassist, and Conyers, his chops already honed from the Philadelphia audition, represents exactly the kind of high-profile splash that new music director Riccardo Muti might like.

. . . On the possibility of auditioning and accepting a job there, Conyers declines to comment.”

The Philadelphia Orchestra is a genuinely great institution, and is still a great orchestra. Sadly, an aside like this points out that, in the orchestra’s current troubled situation, it may be relegating itself to the minor leagues – especially if young musicians could consider it a stopover job, rather than a destination.

My “(ish)” here is a result of a few things. My interest in Conyers is piqued, but the article, despite its length, is thinly sourced. Dobrin also piqued my interest in the “major transformation” mentioned above, but doesn’t detail that (although that discussion is probably the topic of a future story) at all. Finally, I always want stories like these to offer answers to the systemic issues that seem to be plaguing this orchestra. All news shouldn’t be negative, but the orchestra is going through a persistent, major crisis that would benefit from further investigative attention.

This doesn’t diminish my appreciation for Dobrin’s profile; in fact, I hope he follows it up with a story on how the orchestra is engaging the African American community in Philadelphia. A head start: mandatory school field trips and orchestra visits to schools don’t count. Go.

- Nick Gilewicz

In Monday’s Inquirer, Gonzo explored the reception Woods received at the Augusta National Golf Club, home to the Masters. He opens the piece by noting the reverent manner in which Augusta’s members treat the golf course, noting that one section of the course (holes 11, 12 and 13) is referred to as Amen Corner, and many simply describe the course as “heaven.”

He then segues into the holier-than-thou treatment Woods has received from fans and media, which Gonzo believes, “Says as much about us as it does about him. Probably more.”

Here I might have pointed out that part of that backlash came because of the very carefully-crafted image of Woods that was shattered by his actions, but that’s not really the point.

The point came a few paragraphs down:

“Dan Jenkins – Golf Digest writer, Tiger detractor, and author of the regrettable Y.E. Yang/P.F. Chang’s crack on the Internet a few days ago – couldn’t resist poking at Woods.

‘Something on his mind?’ Jenkins joked on Twitter while Woods’ score went up and down all day.

USA Today’s Christine Brennan also weighed in via Tweet: ‘What’s wrong with Tiger? Some have suggested that perhaps he watched SNL last night.’”

Twitter is just another example of a forum where media have the power to not only set agenda, but also the tone. And in the realm of sports, which already has established footholds in television, the Internet, radio (well, everywhere, really), that conversations is huge. Twitter is another cog in a machine that already feeds on “our collective affinity for scandal and Schadenfreude” and mass-produces it for our viewing, listening, or tweeting pleasure, every single day.

Journalists need to be aware that now, even their tweets help to steer the conversation. Certainly, we all have the right to our opinions, but I believe journalists have the responsibility to carefully consider how – and to what – they add their voice.

Though the story could have used some other voices (and I don’t know that Gonzo used the tweets for the reasons I pointed out so much as because I think he is an avid fan of Twitter), a Hoot nonetheless to Gonzo for pointing out the madness in his industry revolving around Tiger Woods.

- Timothy Rapp

Editor’s Note: The image above is by Reuters via the Daily Mail.

The feature largely tags along with Diana Reimer, a Tea Party organizer who is actually from Lansdale, but is active in the city of Philadelphia and organized last year’s April 15 tax day protest in Love Park.

Otterbein relays how Reimer found the Tea Party (feeling disenfranchised, looking for a voice, and finding a suddenly loud one that aligns with common misunderstandings about how the nation and economy function), and positions Reimer as a fairly sympathetic person, who made a few missteps that were poorly timed to the nation’s economic collapse.

The finest thing about Otterbein’s piece is how fair she is, especially compared to Jonathan Valania’s quasi-undercover Philadelphia Weekly piece in February, which essentially asked: Who are these crazy hicks who think these crazy things? The answer, of course, is crazy hicks who think crazy things. Now you don’t have to read the piece.

But I digress. In addition to letting Reimer come off as somewhat sympathetic and as a reasonably charismatic organizer, Otterbein also corrects erroneous facts spouted by Reimer. For example: “‘There was TARP and all the bailouts, and these rich people are getting all this money, yet Don and I can’t sell our house,’ she laments. “Then Mr. Obabma comes in and bails out the banks and AIG, and look at these people, look at all the money they have!’ (The bank bailouts were initiated by the Bush administration in fall 2008, with the support of both the Obama and McCain presidential campaigns.)

In the piece, Riemer ultimately buries herself. Her husband is on unemployment and military benefits; she’s angry that, because she voluntarily quit her most recent job, she doesn’t qualify for unemployment herself. At 67, she is on Medicare. But: “‘I guess if you were an illegal immigrant you would qualify for every benefit there is,’ she says with an uncharacteristic sneer. ‘You would qualify for health care, you would probably get educated, and you would get whatever else America has to offer you. Now, what makes that fair?’”

Otterbein also addresses some of the racial issues associated with the Tea Party, which don’t manifest themselves in this article all that much, except for the vitriol about illegal immigrants and an awkward request that a black woman attending one meeting be their emissary to the younger, blacker, gayer Center City Philadelphians they want to attract.

The piece also includes a variety of voices from and descriptions of conservative political situations about the Tea Party movement in Philadelphia, demonstrating that even in a deeply Democratic city, the movement has an impact. And overall, Otterbein does a great job with this portrait, revealing the people who are, perhaps more often than not, the core of this movement: people who feel politically abandoned yet act almost willfully ignorant, and who themselves use the systems
of social welfare which they so decry.

- Nick Gilewicz

But, unfortunately, newly minted Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Wendy Ruderman of the Philadelphia Daily News is the author of my Howl for this week.

Ruderman’s story “New Breath of Life”  is the story of Henry Howell, a former maintenance man for the Philadelphia Housing Authority who is battling to stay alive with a new set of donated lungs necessitated by the decimation of his own.

As part of this story, Howell talks about his life, his time as a PHA maintenance man, and the part that his job may have played in his illness. While his doctors say that the reason for his illness, pulmonary fibrosis, is undetermined, he believes it was caused by the asbestos he inhaled doing clean-ups for PHA.

Now what is it about this story that bothers me? Well, the first thing that bothers me is that it doesn’t know what kind of story it wants to be. Does it want to be an expose’ about PHA’s asbestos removal policies or does it want to be the story of a man who has fought long odds and is now enjoying a new lease on life thanks to his new set of lungs?

By trying to be both it ends up being not very good at either.

While I can understand putting in the stuff about his job at PHA and how it was connected to how he discovered his illness, the rest of that whole section of the story makes no sense when connected to the rest of the piece. It breaks up two really good sections regarding this man and his struggle to live unnecessarily.

And it also reminds me of something that one of my former editors told me: “Sometimes a horse is just a horse. It’s not a zebra.”

While I can understand that Ruderman won a Pulitzer for her ability to tell stories about agencies or representatives of agencies doing things that they shouldn’t, not everything fits that category.

In the story animal kingdom, this one is a definite horse.

- Denise Clay