Articulations

Articulations

by Robert Faires

In Memoriam

Austin has just lost one of its all-time great friends of the arts. On Wednesday, April 8, around 11am, John Bustin died. Bustin was a writer and critic whose career covering the arts and entertainment scene in Austin and around Central Texas spanned a full half-century. In 1947, he filed his first story as a journeyman reporter at The Daily Texan. In the course of the next five decades, he wrote for major dailies and community weeklies, recorded reviews for broadcast on radio, and contributed the occasional piece to magazines. He is most closely identified with the Austin American-Statesman, for which he wrote articles and reviews and, in the days before it became chiefly a TV listings guide, a column in the Sunday "Show World" supplement. His beat at the daily included movies and all aspects of the civic performing arts scene, but he made his deepest impression reviewing theatre, which he continued to write about right up to his final days.

As critics go, they don't come much friendlier than John Bustin. He enjoyed being in the theatre and in the company of theatre people, and it was not uncommon to find him in a theatre chatting up this actor or that director. He may have been a product of his times - the era when the arts were much more of a community affair and a deeper sense of community was shared by anyone with an interest in the arts - or maybe he was just naturally gregarious, but for him, there was no barrier between the artist and the critic. Theatre was a shared love, and that was good enough for John to extend the hand of friendship to an artist.

That sense of camaraderie, I think, was why Bustin's reviews were so generous. When he critiqued a show, Bustin was never harsh or cruel. He wouldn't hide his dislike for a production if it rubbed him wrong, but his criticisms were almost without fail even-handed, and when he could he'd give the artist the benefit of the doubt. He leaned that way, I always felt, because he was writing about kindred spirits. Performers and directors and designers were in the theatre for the same reason he was - a love of the art - and he respected that love. Being generous in his critiques was only fair.

His fairness and conviviality were inspirations to those of us who considered him a colleague, and I know he influenced everyone with whom he regularly broke bread in the Austin Theatre Critics' Table, a group that he helped found five years ago and whose members will miss him profoundly. No one but John had 50 years worth of stories in the field, grand tales of the glorious productions, the dreadful productions, the local legends, the visiting celebrities. And no one could tell those stories as John did; his enthusiasm for an anecdote was infectious, and delivered with his wry twists and slow intoxicating drawl, one of John's stories could be like a chilled martini on a Friday in July. And I think that's a simile Bustin himself would relish, because no one could enjoy a good drink like John. Alas, no one will see as much as he did or know as many as he knew.

For the last couple of years, Bustin had been fighting lung cancer. Chemo treatments always seemed to make the cancer go away, but then it would return. Last week, he had begun another round of therapy. Then, pneumonia settled in. On Friday, he was hospitalized in the Critical Care Unit at Seton Hospital. For several days, his condition wavered, then on Wednesday, he finally succumbed.

Bustin is survived by his wife Rosalyn, his daughter Laura, and his son Greg. At press time, no plans had been made for a memorial service. Rest in peace, John.