Tag Archives: Pete Wells

sound file spectrum 2

When More is on the Menu

Problem Practices, Reviews, , , , , ,

Little wonder that noise is the most common complaint about eateries of all sorts.

It is not uncommon for restaurant critics to write reviews pointing out sound levels in even expensive establishments that are “abusive” and “overpowering.”  A reasonable noise level at a restaurant should be about 65 decibels. But many easily top 85 or higher. (This measurement scale is logarithmic; every few decibel increases roughly doubles perceived loudness.) Little wonder noise is the most common complaint about establishments of all sorts. Then there is often music thrown in to add to the aural chaos. City retail rents tend to dictate many tables in small rooms. Add in the bar culture in some watering holes and you’ve come close to replicating the sound energy on an airport runway.

osha db chart 231x300 2This is not just a big city problem. Eateries in my small-town generally have the same issue. More tables potentially increases the take for an establishment on a good night, not to mention that diners almost on top of each other get the incidental chance to try out a neighboring meal.

For all of this we have a peculiar solution from former restaurant critic Pete Wells, suggesting Apple’s AirPods Pro 2. These earbuds act as “over-the-counter hearing aids for mild to moderate hearing loss, adjustable to your own ears.” His recommendation is based on the “Conversation Boost” mode, which “uses directional microphones to isolate and amplify voices that are directly in front of the listener. Ambient Noise Reduction dampens sound coming from other angles.”  The irony, of course, is that the use of these amounts to taking a tiny public address system with you to dinner so you can hear the person at the same table. Count that as another weird 21st Century fix.  The A.I. image at the top shows what this might look like.

A continuous piling on of high decibels can leave a person at risk of cardiovascular disease. That’s a considerable distance from the 120 decibels that can produce permanent hearing loss: incidentally, a real risk for kitchen workers and musicians of all sorts.  Even so, many of us don’t notice the problem. We are used to moving through environments that push at the margins of aural comfort. Some of us are natural stoics, bearing the burden until it is mentioned by others. This is one reason excessive sound volume is a contributor to stress. As ambient sound turns into a roar it stretches the natural elasticity of our patience. In the end, we feel drained and fatigued without exactly knowing why.

My advice for a reasonable shot at an evening when you can hear your dinner companions:

  • Avoid restaurants known for hosting big groups and celebrations. Crowds of people at one table tend to encourage others to talk louder to be heard. If you end up seated next to a wedding party or birthday celebration, you are probably in for a night of lip reading.
  • Dine out mid-week more than weekends when restaurants are less crowded.
  • Think of “old school” restaurants that are elaborately decorated or filled with booths. High ceilings, carpet, and the luxury of space between tables that can significantly lower decibel levels.
  • Though they are usually not cuisine hotspots, hotel dining rooms are usually a spacious refuge.
  • Consider take out.

red bar graphic

The Pleasures of Criticism

Rhetorical Mastery, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Good criticism ‘opens up’ our understanding of an object, idea or event: what its presence can mean as part of the human experience. 

                                 Paul Goldberger

The title here may be misleading.  I have no interest in selling the idea that harsh judgments are ‘fun’ to make.  That’s what “criticism” can mean.  But it isn’t what I think of when I use the term.  I’m more interested in its second and less common meaning: writing that combines analysis and assessment of the most interesting forms of expressive activity.  Criticism is a sustained and considered effort to understand a new project: usually the work of an artist or innovator interested in moving beyond the strictly utilitarian. Critics try to make sense of what these people have done or perhaps failed to do.  They may come from academic or journalistic organizations, or freelance on their own.

Almost every field–from architecture to food–has potential ‘appreciators’ who profess to use fresh eyes and ears to extend our understanding about a particular effort.  Criticism can be as accessible as reviews of new books, plays or music in a news outlet like the New York Times.  It can also be seen in the rarer video essays of Anthony Bourdain, Leonard Bernstein or Michael Tilson Thomas.  Some efforts stand as monumental and single works of sustained analysis, like like Alec Wilder’s American Popular Song: The Great Innovators, 1900–1950. (Oxford, 1975).  And some can be impressive panoramas that leave us richer in our understanding of a single kind of human enterprise. Among these, I’d count Michael Arlen’s fascinating assessment of television in the Vietnam era, Living Room War. (Viking, 1969).

                                  Joan Didion

Criticism ought to be a cherished kind of writing—not just because it promises incisive observation, but because good criticism ‘opens up’ our understanding of an event: what its presence can mean as part of the human experience.  To use a simple example, I will never eat in most of the restaurants that the New York Times’ food critic will write about.  But Pete Wells’ assessment of the food and the experience of a particular eatery is still interesting.  Wells isn’t doing a Yelp review.  His best reviews place an establishment in a timeline, and its food in a broader culinary tradition.  The food he samples functions as a kind of ‘find’ in an archaeological dig.  It’s roots are from somewhere else, but handed down and modified by whoever is in the kitchen.  And, of course, its New York.  So most restaurants feed strivers looking for sensations that are different and potentially better.  Who knew that Malaysian coffee can be so different?  How have Americans not understood the varied and fascinating textures of something as basic as rice?

      Robert Hughes illustration by John Spooner

Try any field of effort, and there are fascinating critics from the present or recent past to explore.  Many have been journalists: Robert Hughes on art, Alex Ross on concert music, Roger Ebert or Pauline Kael on film, Joan Dideon on the East and West coast life, Paul Goldberger on architecture, or Gary Giddens on jazz.  Whatever the work, we expect critics to be curious, aware, and more interested in discovering and knowing than judging.

 

Living in the thick of a culture requires sorting out and assessing the passing parade of ideas and artifacts that vie to make an impression.

I was trained as a rhetorical theorist and critic.  No shingle hangs out of my office to attract potential customers.  But with communication as my world I am never at a loss for subjects to explore and ponder. I and thousands of other academics are following in the footsteps of other rhetorical critics before us, including Wayne Booth, Hugh Duncan, Jane Blankenship, Richard Weaver and Kenneth Burke.  The names of these academics are perhaps not familiar.  Yet they have shaped what communication means in the American academy.  They are still read by flocks of undergraduates on their way to sharpening their critical and analytical skills.

                     Kenneth Burke

Burke wrote what many of us sometimes say in moments of exasperation: we are all critics.  Living in the thick of a culture requires sorting out and assessing the passing parade of ideas and artifacts that vie to make an impression.  The key difference is that our own ad-hoc judgments are usually personal: said without much prior knowledge and not very well worked out.  That’s why our opinions are usually less interesting than a gifted writer who is also a professional appreciator.