Jill Johnston―cultural critic, auto/biographer, and lesbian icon―was renowned as a writer on dance, especially on the developments around Judson Dance and the 1960s downtown New York City scene, and later as the author of the radical-feminist classic Lesbian Nation (1973). This book collects thirty texts by Jill Johnston that were initially published in her weekly column for The Village Voice between 1960 and 1974. The column provided a format in which Johnston could dissolve distinctions between the personal, the critical, and the political. Her writing took turns and loops, reflecting its times and contexts, and set a stage for the emergence of Johnston as a public figure and self-proclaimed radical lesbian that defied any prescribed position.
Johnston's original texts are accompanied by three new contributions by Ingrid Nyeboe, Bruce Hainley, and Jennifer Krasinski, as well as an appendix with archival material related to a panel Johnston organized in 1969, titled “The Disintegration of a Critic: An Analysis of Jill Johnston.”
American feminist author and cultural critic who wrote Lesbian Nation in 1973 and was a longtime writer for The Village Voice. She was also a leader of the lesbian separatist movement of the 1970s. Johnston also wrote under the pen name F. J. Crowe.
This is a fascinating collection of texts by writer and feminist thinker Jill Johnston. Johnston was renowned as a dance critic in the 1960s downtown New York City scene, and then as the author of the radical-feminist classic Lesbian Nation (1973). This is a wonderful window into the mind of a radical thinker who saw blurred lines between the personal, political and creative domains. A great read for anyone interested in feminist history and the 60’s New York arts scene.
"It is not easy to see. Outside the theatre, living as we do, most of us see very little with our eyes wide open. In action the eye absorbs space forms to function; in repose the eye becomes a facial decoration as sight turns inward. And our training is such that when we do look for non-functional reasons, it is usually at something huge and spectacular, like cathedrals or sunsets. And even then it is rare to see more than a general outline. or to see more and still *enter.* That is the crucial transition, from seeing to entering. Not only crucial but mysterious so I wont say any more except to note that I think that most people who go to dance concerts don't see very well, not even dancers, sometimes especially dancers, and most often critics, who must attend special classes in becoming blind" (15).
"I'm in favor of a constant resurrection of history in the interests of the future. Anyhow, the weight of history is always active in the present. The ignorance of dancers and the public can't deter the inevitable presence of history in current activities. History is both contained in and transformed by the present. It is to the advantage of dancers and public to make history operative in a contemporary framework. Changes in contemporary forms depend upon historical revelations. History itself is in constant change as contemporary workers distort the far or immediate past to suit the needs of the time. History is remade at every stage of a continuous game" (43).
"Life is a rain check to oblivion" (50).
"The main thing is that when a group forms it's elitist and when it dissolves it's democratic. Since elitism is worse than the plague anyone involved in a group is asking for lots of trouble from the more indeterminate group at large until the group shows signs of internal disintegration which was true of our group immediately. I don't like groups myself. I prefer being lost in china without a friend to being found in a room with a group. I like the illusion that I'm not accountable to anybody but myself for whatever I decide to do, for example being permanently lost in china, and I feel bound and gagged by the consensus reality of a group. Nonetheless I thought this feminist lesbian thing was extremely important and that I should submit to being bound and gagged for a couple of months while the group decided all manner of things, including the size and color and quality of its paper cups. That's for the dance in the evening " (110-111).
"every political woman is a movement unto herself, and that's why we have this thing called a movement, because so many women are now speaking for themselves and there's so much general agreement that this should be so, but somehow ironically speaking for yourself tends to threaten other women's potential [...] sense of themselves and this is particularly true when you appear to be speaking for other people besides yourself which you do inevitably when you speak politically since politics involves groups you can't help it you are speaking for the group you've defined or identified as the group you align yourself with politically which in the case of feminism happens to be women" (119).
On a speech Agnes Martin gave "suffering is necessary for freedom from suffering. and that the wriggle of a worm is as important as the assassination of a president. and that our work is very important but that we are not important. and that what you want to do is your work and what you want to want to do is your work. and that people ask her what's going to happen in art, where is art going and she says gosh, i hope it's going to go in all directions." (135).
Bruce Hainley "she liked to have her cock and eat it too, she'd quipped" (168).
Jennifer Krasinski "Johnston and her extraordinary writing--documents of an era, records of an exemplary mind--prove that the art and life divide is not only impossible, it's unthinkable" (183).
"A critic has come to be a paid publicity agent. The artist expects this of the critic and privately coerces him; the critic has accepted this role and uses the artist to build his own reputation: by the game of playing off one artist against another in the 'historical sequence of trends.' Anybody familiar with the history of art knows also how history is made by the winners of the moment; those with the power of money, press, fame. etc. to urge an old artist on a new public, to resurrect a forgotten artist, to exhume an artist completely unknown to his own time even, to relegate to the grave a whole era popular for a time and so on. I am now interested solely in autobiographical history, from the cradles as well as from the history of an (our) archetypal past" (193).
From the panel from which the book gets its title: "Baudelaire was an art critic from time to time...and he wrote this: 'I sincerely believe that the best criticism is that which is both amusing and poetic" (209).
Gregory Battcock "Most everybody has by now, had their sensibilities progressively dulled by capitalist progress which is happily reducing the environment of freedom and the longing and need for such an environment" (220).
The Disintegration of a Critic is a striking reminder of how criticism can become an art form in its own right. Across these collected Village Voice columns, Jill Johnston dismantles the boundaries between cultural commentary, autobiography, and political declaration, producing writing that feels restless, intimate, and intellectually electric. What begins as dance criticism expands into something far more radical: a performance of thought shaped by the social upheavals of downtown New York and Johnston’s own evolving public identity.
The texts retain a remarkable freshness, not because they are anchored in nostalgia, but because Johnston’s voice resists fixity. Her digressive, looping style becomes the argument itself, criticism not as detached evaluation but as lived experience. The accompanying contemporary essays deepen the context without diluting Johnston’s volatility, illuminating her influence on both feminist discourse and experimental writing.
A vital collection for readers interested in criticism, performance, and the politics of voice.
If you are the kind of reader who enjoys the New York School and that trickled out of that, you will eat up Jill’s work, a seed of so much experimental writing, and more should know that she is this seed!