For most of the time I knew John Dorsey, I didn't think of him as The Sun's restaurant critic, a job he wearied of and happily relinquished so he could do what he really wanted to do: be the paper's art critic. His graceful, clear prose about artists and their art is what I remember most about his work here. And yet when I was editing the paper's twice-yearly dining guides, he would always step back into his old role as a favor to me and take on the restaurants I thought were most important or most sensitive.
When I gave instructions to other people reviewing restaurants for the guides, I always quoted John because his advice could never be bettered. Two bits of it I remember in particular.
He warned us to be extremely careful to get every detail correct because otherwise the restaurant owners "would fall upon us like ravening wolves." I can't think of any phrase more likely to make a fledgling critic check his or her work and then check it again.
He also urged critics to be generous when tipping, whether the review was positive or not, so at least the waiter wouldn't be able to complain that The Sun was tight-fisted.
John was a great guy. Although we didn't stay in touch with each other as much as I wish we had, we did exchange Christmas cards to the end and played bridge occasionally. He was one of the few people nice enough to take on as a partner my husband -- who has a gunslinger mentality when it comes to cards -- thereby preserving our marriage. Plus John brought the best sandwiches when he came: delicious shavings of rare roast beef or Virginia ham on thin slices of buttered brown bread.
Sorry, that's the food critic in me coming out. Elizabeth Large Sun restaurant critic
Keep walking
John was both a colleague and a neighbor. When he lived in Bolton Hill, he would walk to work at a fast clip. At day's end John would march home with two other Sun scribes who lived in the neighborhood, John F. Kelly and Davison White. They never stopped moving.
When confronted with a red light, they would immediately shift course. Scooting up the sidewalks of Calvert or St. Paul, they would bounce across Read, Eager or Preston streets, ending up at the foot of Bolton Hill.
Once I tried walking home with John. I couldn't keep pace, with him. Few could. Rob Kasper Sun columnist
Gentleman, scholar
Besides serving as the newspaper's art critic and restaurant critic, John was an astute observer of Baltimore architecture. His 1983 book on Mount Vernon Place remains the definitive account of that historic precinct. With James Dilts, he was co-author of A Guide to Baltimore Architecture, an invaluable resource for newcomers and old-timers alike.
Though a classicist in many ways, he was never afraid to be a champion for new ventures that made sense, including the American Visionary Art Museum at the base of Federal Hill, the Baltimore City Life Museums, and any buildings by the modernists Warren Peterson and Charles Brickbauer.
Whether he was full of praise or less than amused, John Dorsey's articles were well-informed, well-reasoned and well-mannered. He commanded respect because he showed respect for his subjects.
His writing revealed exactly who he was: a gentleman and a scholar. Edward Gunts Sun architecture critic
