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Dachshund Getty 1.jpg

Handy Tip: Don't Rub Dog Poop On Your Critics' Faces

By Kayleigh Donaldson | Miscellaneous | February 16, 2023 |

By Kayleigh Donaldson | Miscellaneous | February 16, 2023 |


Dachshund Getty 1.jpg

It seldom ends well when a creative figure of any kind decides to respond to their critics. Marco Goecke, the former ballet director at the Hanover State Opera, decided to respond to one critic of his work and it was, ahem, shit.

Goecke harassed dance critic Wiebke Hüster over a review she had written about his latest show, claiming that her write-up of In the Dutch Mountains hurt sales and led to cancellations of season tickets. Rather than rant about it in his diary, he met her in the foyer of the theater, screamed at her, then produced a bag of dog excrement, which he smeared over her face. Ew.

Shockingly, he has now been removed from his position with the Hanover State Opera. Oh good golly gosh, what led to that?! Ms Hüster, who writes for the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung newspaper, told the BBC that she was in ‘shock’ after the attack, categorizing it as ‘act against the freedom of [the] press.’

Goecke has offered an apology, telling the New York Times that what he did was ‘truly an awful thing’ but that critics should not write in a ‘personal and hateful way’, so really, who is the true baddie here? Definitely the poop guy. Either grow a spine or get a new job, dude. Well, you’ll need to get another gig now. Even Lydia Tar had an easier time getting rehired than you will, chump. And yes, the German police are investigating the attack.

For those who are interested, the poo came from Goecke’s pet dachshund.

This is obviously a pretty extreme version of a critic being attacked for their review but the general spirit of it is, alas, extremely commonplace. You’ll struggle to find a critic who hasn’t faced at least one weird strain of harassment from some author or actor or whatever who is all too eager to wield their fandom for purposes of attack. It’s also not hard to get people to be mad at critics and journalists who are just doing their job. But you have to be an especially evil and weak-spined motherf*cker to take the time to wait for your pooch to digest its dinner, pick it up, carry it on your person for possibly hours, then shove it in someone’s face. I hope she sues.

So, dear artistes of the world: the next time a critic says something bad about your work, go home, have a drink, then stew in the resentment until it’s time to go to bed. It’ll be way less messy, in more than one way.