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That’s what we felt

June 12, 2014, 7:53 am
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7 PM smoke. Photo: JH.
Thursday, June 12, 2014. It was going to be an occasionally rainy day in New York, and maybe humid. According to the weatherman. Sometimes it was sunny and sometimes not. Not rain. No humidity either, at least none that I noticed. By late afternoon the temperature was reported to be 72 but with a cooler Real Feel. That’s what we felt.

It was Wednesday. I went to Michael’s to lunch with Peter Lyden, who is the President of the Institute of Classical Architecture & Art, a post he assumed only three months ago. We’ve known each other professionally for probably two decades. He was the executive in charge of fund raising and development for the American Ballet Theatre and most recently for the American Museum of Natural History. I don’t know much about that field of endeavor (raising money for cultural purposes) although I do know that it is, in New York anyway, very big business.

Janet Ross, Peter Lyden, and Mark Ferguson at The Institute of Classical Architecture & Ar's 33rd annual Arthur Ross Awards for Excellence in the Classical Tradition.
Peter with Sarah Medford.
These men and women are the ones who pass the plate amongst the gilded classes, their foundations and corporations. It takes a special kind of talent to tune a personal exchequer. No one has ever bothered (as it would be pointless) to include me in such endeavors since I am a humble (sometimes), poor (relatively), writer. However, I have observed the progress made by Peter Lyden and others of this particular expertise. He is one of the thoroughbreds -- knowledgeable, sociable, curious, informative, and always seeking the far-seeing and innovative. (In his career of the past two decades, he’s raised more than $2 billion for the aforementioned organizations and others.)

Peter’s two previous assignments were very high profile in the New York philanthropic world, and in the popular mind: both very popular in the world of New York, as well as the world itself. The Institute of Classical Architecture & Art is a newer project. The organization which is very prestigious in the architectural community, was founded twelve years ago in a merger of two classical architecture organizations. It is now the leading non-profit organization of its kind with 15 chapters nationwide. Their charter: dedication to advancing the classical tradition in architecture, urbanism and their allied arts.

To you and me, the man on the street, this can sound too lofty to be comprehensible. Except when you think of it: organizing the world we live in so we can live comfortably, optimally, and well, or as well as possible is an enormous and mind boggling  task. Architects and their ilk are naturally inclined to be charged with that responsibility. As the forces of nature speed up in these times, so too do the creative forces of urban and architectural planning. Peter Lyden’s vision of the ICAA is to be one of those overseeing forces, educating us (and no doubt raising the funds to actualize his vision)

Meanwhile most of our conversation yesterday was about mutual friends (of which we have many), as well as the crowd in the lunchroom at Michael’s yesterday. At Table One in the bay, Shari Rollins was celebrating a birthday with Nancy Collins, Lyn Paulsen, Bess Friedman, Jolie Hunt, Susie Friedman, and Shari’s husband the uber-political advisor, Ed Rollins.
Shari Rollins poses with her birthday dessert for Steve Millington, yesterday at Michael's.
At a big table in the middle of the front room were several men, all in seersucker jackets and suits and one raven-haired young woman wearing a pale peach seersucker jacket. Her name, I learned, was Laurie Haspel Aronson from Baton Rouge. She is the President and CEO of Haspel, the men’s suit manufacturer started by Laurie’s great-grandfather down there in Louisiana.

Meanwhile down in our nation’s capital yesterday – I learned from Ms. Aronson – 30 members of Congress were posing for a photograph to toast the day National Seersucker Day. I’m not making this up. I’m not sure exactly what the name of the occasion was, but it was an opportunity to get some of the inhabitants of Foggy Bottom to get into something cooler. Laurie’s lunch guests, meanwhile, were James LaForce of LaForce and Stevens with Brenner Thomas,Tom Wallis, Jean Palmeri of WWD, Brian Coats, Michael Philouze, and Ben Setiawan.
Simply seersucker: James LaForce, Laurie Haspel Aronson, Brenner Thoma s, and Tom Wallis.
Seersucker trio at Michael's, circa 2008: Peter Rogers, Andre Leon Talley, and DPC.
I love seersucker in the summer time. It not only looks appropriate for a lot of occasions out and about, but it is cooler, lighter and with some summertime zip to its colors. I’ve known about Haspel for goodlooking, well-made, reasonably priced businessmen’s suits since I first got a job behind a desk in an office after college. I know this sounds like a commercial but it’s also a reality. I never realized until today that it was the name of a family business now in its fourth generation of leadership. It also turns out that Laurie Aronson is an old friend of Michael’s and has been patronizing his establishments for a couple of decades.
Congresswoman Janice Hahn (D-CA); Congressman Bill Cassidy (R-LA); Congressman Vance McAllister (R-LA); and Congressman Eliot Engel (D-NY) at 'National Seersucker Day' at U.S. Capitol.
'National Seersucker Day' with members of U.S. Congress at U.S. Capitol.
Joseph Haspel Sr. founded Haspel in 1909 creating seersucker overalls for American laborers.
A Haspel ad from yesteryear.
Across the room at Michael’s: at the corner table, entertainment mogul Ron Meyer with mega-producer Harvey Weinstein; Tad Smith with Christy Ferer; Glamour magazine’s publisher Connie Ann Phillips; Phoenix House founder Dr. Mitch Rosenthal with Pamela Gross and Melanie Lefkowitz;  Diane Clehane of Mediabistro.com with Judy Twersky  and media coach Bill McGowan; Nikki Haskell with uber real estate broker Eva Mohr and her husband Stanley Mohr.

Moving along: Michael Garin of Abu Dhabi Media; Reese Schoenfeld Food Network founder; Susan Blond; Peter Price; Linda Fairstein with Joan Carl of D. Porthault; Jerry Inzerillo; Mickey Ateyeh with Jeffrey Aronson, financial adviser, investor to the fashion industry, former fashion executive; Jay Sures with Dan Abrams; Tom Goodman of Goodman Media with Eileen Murphy of the New York Times; Wenda Millard, Michael Tannenbaum. Also Keith Meister with Mac Levine, Doug Hirsch and Jonathan Schwartz; Tom Goodman of Goodman Media with Eileen Murphy of the New York Times; Brad Reifler; Michael Tannenbaum; and scores more more along that broad spectrum of arts, culture, business, banking, marketing, celebrity, and good old Noo-Yawk metropolitan anxiety ...
Maryanne Gilmartin, President and CEO; and Bruce Ratner, Executive Chairman of Forest City Ratner Companies, accepting their Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Medal last night at the Municipal Art Society's annual gala.
Which, speaking of metropolitan and culture and architecture and fund-raising, coincidentally, last night I went down to 283 Park Avenue where the Municipal Art Society was hosting its 2014 Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Medal to real estate developers and owners Bruce Ratner and Maryanne Gilmartin of Forest City Ratner Companies. The Municipal Art Society (MAS) is completing it 120th year of work advocating excellence in urban planning and design. Its charter is a commitment to historic preservation and the arts, and the empowerment of local communities to affect change in their neighborhoods.

Vin Cipolla, President of MAS opened the evening. The co-chairs were architect David Childs  and real estate developer Larry Silverstein. Premier sponsor was Fred Iseman, and Signature Sponsors were Eugenie and Bob Birch. Last night Mrs. Birch told the guests that they’d raised more than $1 million for MAS and its work.
The award was named for Mrs. Onassis in 1994 in memoriam to honor her efforts in preserving New York’s architectural treasures.  Her involvement in the campaign to protect Grand Central Terminal from the wrecker’s ball not only brought public awareness to the matter but also to the existence of this long-standing organization.

This years awardees, Ratner and Gilmartin, with their Forest City Ratner Companies (Gilmartin is the CEO), have played an important role in the renaissance of Brooklyn. In the past 28 years, Forest City Ratner Companies have developed 44 office, retail, residential, hotel and sports and entertainment projects in all five boroughs and throughout the metropolitan area. Last night, Mrs. Birch also told the guests that both a national political convention and the Olympics were very real potentials for Brooklyn in the near future. Mr. Ratner and Ms. Gilmartin’s work has played a major role in the renaissance that brought about these very real possibilities for a borough that has been transformed radically in the past two decades.
 

Contact DPC here.
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Everything is quieter

June 16, 2014, 7:35 am
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Father's Day picnic supplies in Central Park. Photo: JH.
Monday, June  16, 2014.The weekend just past: Big, heavy rains Friday afternoon and occasionally intermittently that evening. Saturday and Sunday: Sunny and bright and mild, and cool in the evening. If you’ve never lived there, this is what Southern California is like, which is why those of us who’ve lived there love the weather. By this time, every year, a lot of my neighbors clear out for their summer destinations (Hamptons, Connecticut, etc.) and everything is quieter. And lovely.
More Father's Day activities.
Last Thursday night at the Wildlife Conservation Society, the rain was already threatening. It was spritzing when I arrived at the Central Park Zoo at 7:30 (cocktails began an hour before) for the black tie affair.

They hold this event every year at this time and at this location (it used to be at the Bronx Zoo). They’d been blessed in the past with Great Weather. Cocktails are held outside around the Sea Lions’ pool, and the inhabitants are out there playing to the crowds (you get the feeling that they like the company in their confinement). Because the party starts out in a “center,” the vibe is very “social” in that people moved around  the Sea Lions’ pool, and talk to a lot of people. Hello, how are you, is even enough to put you in the mood.

Soon after I’d got there, the rain began, gentle but steady. The tables were set, as they are every year in the pavilion that surrounds the Sea Lions’ home, and so every – all several hundred quickly made their way to a roof overhead.

Honoree Hillary Clinton.
Allison (Mrs. Leonard) Stern chaired this event for several years (or so it seems in memory) and she produced a very glamorous party that produced a healthy figure for the night (over $ million) for the cause.

The WCS is a noble and important philanthropy in a world that is losing track at a breakneck pace of what is important (i.e., survival). That nobility appeals to more people than you might think. It crosses all the political lines because it makes sense.

They honored C. Diane Christensen and Hillary and Chelsea Clinton.  I didn’t know about Mrs. Christensen but she is a very important individual in the world of Wildlife Conservation -- as well as other matters philanthropic.  She grew up in San Francisco where her parents created a foundation to fund causes such as the WCS. She has been a lifelong devotee to wildlife conservation. She has traveled and visited sites all over the world that they are funding to protect wildlife.

I didn’t meet her, but saw, and listened to her acceptance speech. This is a woman, with a no frills, plain talking, Out West manner and presence; a woman of independent means, obviously, who has given much of her life and her resources in protecting wildlife on the planet. Or, to put it more realistically: to protect LIFE on the planet. You could tell from her speaking that it was just something that has to be done, has to be taken care of, the way a good mother protects her children. Mrs. Christensen is the essence of the Wildlife Conservation Society’s charter.
Ward Woods and honoree Diane Christensen.
The big draw of the evening was Mrs. Clinton. Hillary Clinton in New York at least, is the star of the moment. She is our former Senator, the former Secretary of State, the former First Lady and from the looks of things, she’s thinking about being our first women President. She is also a superior speechmaker. Her talks are relevant, informed and informative, thoughtful and mainly delivered (most times I’ve seen her) without notes. You know you are listening to someone who’s smart. There’s a certain kind of relief in that.

Mayor De Blasio and Hillary Clinton.
She was introduced by our new Mayor De Blasio. Mr. De Blasio is currently not a favorite with many in this crowd, and on this side of town. Personally I have no opinion except to note that he’s somehow ended up on the bad side of many of the electorate (around me).

I had never seen or heard him speak until Thursday night when he took the podium to tell us about his relationship with Mrs. Clinton. He is a very appealing speaker. He worked with her when she was Senator. He described the experience with an almost effusive awe at her ability to Get To The Heart of the Matter, to solve or deal with a problem. His information wasn’t surprising: she’s tough, she’s sharp and she’s got a strong woman’s instinct to solve a problem. Or deal with it in some constructive way.

Thursday night was clearly not a campaign stop (although it was good exposure for a potential candidate). The former President, her husband, was with her, as was of course her daughter Chelsea who is evidently taking over the reins as head of the family foundation.

The focus of the evening, the theme was “An Elephant’s Tale.” Cristian Samper, the president of WCS, talked to the guests about the poaching of the elephants. He told about a tour he took in Dzang Bai in the Central African Republic where the poachers have moved in and are killing the elephants for their ivory tusks. The killing of elephants is now running close to 100 elephants a day across Africa. In a few years, they will be extinct.
Ward Woods, Cristian Samper, Hillary Clinton, and Chelsea Clinton.
When Samper saw what the illegal ivory trade was doing he called Hillary Clinton (when she was still Secretary of State). The Clinton Global Initiative got involved. Chelsea Clinton made a documentary for NBC News on the story, and Secretary Clinton gathered intelligence and security advisers to assess the issue.  The results of these efforts was a campaign “The Partnership to Save Africa’s Elephants. Poaching has become more sophisticated, using automatic weapons, night-vision goggles, helicopters, explosives.

The elephants share many things in common with us humanoids, our taste for murder and violence notwithstanding. They are emotional, intelligent and self-aware creatures, with long lives and long memories. They have feelings like us, and grieve over personal losses. Like us, they live in communities of families. The more you learn about them, including the threats to their mass destruction, the more you see that “saving” them is also related to saving ourselves.
Bill and Hillary at table.
After Mrs. Clinton spoke about the plight of the elephant, Chelsea Clinton took the podium to thank everyone for their efforts in helping the elephants. She pointed out that as a child, her parents often took her to the zoo where she learned, as she shared with us, that ultimately “for many of us, our love of wildlife and appreciation of the greater ecosystem in which we all live, does start in zoos.”

Ms. Clinton, who, as the world now knows, is about to become a mother herself, is a very confident and able speaker -- not surprising considering her background. Her mother presented the basic message but daughter was graciously enthusiastic in thanking the guests for their interest and help in the matter. Growing up as she did with two of the best public speakers in the world, surely must have been a challenge for the young girl. However, as she spoke on Thursday night, I couldn’t help thinking of her father who was seated only 20 feet from his daughter, and how proud he (and his wife) must feel about their daughter’s ability to convey the message.

Ms. Clinton’s fashion statement for the evening, however -- an ensemble that inevitably conjured up characters from consumer celebritydom -- the Kardashians -- was a puzzlement. 
Last Friday's Daily Mail Online was quick to show how Kim Kardashian has had a major influence on fashion, if not style-wise.
"For many of us, our love of wildlife and appreciation of the greater ecosystem in which we all live, does start in zoos.”
I’ve been attending this event every year since the mid-90s. It’s a serious evening although usually not a speaker’s evening. The Clintons’ appearance added another dimension to the matter, making it seem more urgent, more timely.

The honorees speak briefly and the president of the organization reports on the WCS activities and progress, all of which is preceded by a lovely cocktail reception, a good dinner (this year’s menu was African in origin. Starter was a “Regional Taster” – Ethiopian vegetable somasa; West African sweet potato soup; South African black-eyed pea “koek”– interesting and good).  After dinner the younger crowd is invited in for dancing and drinks and desserts. So it is a pleasant evening all around.  The appearance of the Clinton women added greater public attention to the business of the WCS, and that is good for the cause. It was a good night, and the rain stopped in time for the after-party, so hundreds more young New Yorkers were happy too.
Larry Killmar, Pat Thomas, Laurie Thomas, and Craig Pugh.
Beth Koenigsberg.Nick Murtha.Dalia Capolongo.
Charlie Nordfeldt, Sari Elliot, Ian Solomon, and Katheryn Thompson.
Willard and Jason.
Hannah Gershenson and Anton Dobrosevic.Stephanie and Bill Joseph.
Katie Germano, Shannon Conley, D McAloose, Bonnie Raphael, and Patti Calabrese.
John and Sally Green.Barbara and Don Zucker.
Caroline Sidnam, D McAloose, and Rosina Bierbaum.Rett Butler and Allison Morrow.
John Wambold Jr., George Wambold, Melanie Wambold, and John Wambold.
Laura Briskman, Pat Price, and Kathryn Heintz .Bertina Ceccarelli and Scott Schiff.
Mayor Bill de Blasio, Katie Lee, Hillary Clinton, and Melanie Wambold.
Carlyle Stewart and David Koch.
Leah Doyle and Peter Coleman.Sherry and Brett Odom.
Brad Goldberg, Sunny Goldberg, Candy Udell, and Mark Udell.
Laurie Thomas, Boo Grace, and Caz Rosson.Nicole Smith and Francis Greenburger.
Dale Guldbransen and Sally Dodge.
Barry Goldberg and Melissa Conklin.Pat Price and Denise Hurley.
Whitney Keefe, Natalie Harrington, Nora Malgeri, Stephanie Brag, Paige Peterson, Sarah Roberts, Nedinia Hutton Craig, Kerwelyn Craig, and Isabel Solmonson.
Dr. Amy Attas and Stephen Shapiro.Alison Minton and Daniel Colon.
Lizzy and Linda Fraser.
Chelsea Leyland.
April Grunow, Christopher Trump, Alison Hodge, and John Sascitelli.
Dave Ostrander, Eyal Arad, Billy Kreitsek Jr, Kesher Fleming, Chise Virtrue, Meggie Kempner, Christopher Trump, and Richard Small.
Chris Kempner, Meggie Kempner, Christopher Trump, and Mia Anderson.
Natasha Blodgett and Sebastian Pinto-Thomaz.
Lisa Roumell and Mark Rosenthal.Anique with Jackson Malle.
Taiki Kasuga, Claire Canazan, and Caroline Melly.
Allison Morrow and Valentino Carlotti.
Katie Waugh, Marina White, Ben Bologna, and Lauren Whatley.
Margo and Ben Bouche.Gina Lambiase, Matthew Lambiase, and Christina Lambiase.
Sue Ann Weinberg and Michael Teitler.
Linda Cox and John Robinson.Musette Morgan, Caroline Nype, and Toni Pryor.
Judith Katz, Hugh Freund, and Julian Salsbury.
James and Ward Woods Whitney Keith and David Snider.
Patrick Fiorvanti, Jessica Griffith, Brooke Block, Nick Melvoin, Alexandra Segalas, Max Nugent, and Lexis Marsden.
Anisha Reddy, Elizabeth Bundschuh, Caitlyn Brennen, Caroline Irving, and Emily Swann.Natasha Das.
Polly Hendricks, Katie Mitchell, and Lindi Duesenberg.Aiden Burns and Clare McCarrick.
Cody Baird, Cameron Bell, Paige Newquist, and Peyton Newquist.
Robert Farrior and Mia Anderson.Nicolas Dekowski, Olivia Ridge, Elizabeth D'Antonio, and Alan Leland.
Lucy Lynch, Brendan McCartney, and Gillian Christie.Michaela Culver and Kristina Gabler.
Kristen Finnon, Mercedes Barba, Briggs Elwell, Harriet Manice, and Jenny Webb.
Natalie Harrington and Elise Fischer.Catherine Azmoodeh and Ambassador Robert Hormats.

Photographys byPatrick McMullan (WCS)

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Like watching A Life

June 17, 2014, 6:47 am
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Riverside Park. 6:05 PM. Photo: JH.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014. Yesterday was a warm sunny day in New York.

I never know what my day will be like until the night before when I look at my (New Yorker) calendar to see what’s in the book. This Monday was a lunch with an old friend, and a dinner with another old friend. This sort of commitment is like a vacation day for me.

When asked where should we lunch, I suggested Michael’s simply because ... you never know what’s going on there. Monday at the beginning of summer is usually a slow, or slower day in New York. Michael’s, ditto.
Last week at the Municipal Arts Society, I was seated next to sculptress Elizabeth Strong-Cuevas who told me about her latest exhibition at the Leonard Tourné Gallery on 46 East 65th Street, running through June 30th. On the left, "High Voltage", 2010, Bronze, gold patina, 24x15x12 inches, and at right, "Arch III," Bronze, 1985, at Dag Hammarskjold Plaza at 47th Street and Second Avenue, through July 31st. You can visit her web site at: www.sc-sculpture.com.
However, as I approached the restaurant yesterday about 12:30, there were two big black SUVs with the tinted windows parked in front, and what looked like Secret Service men (suits, but each with one of those coiled plastic wires attached to one ear). Inside, it turned out, there was a private event in the Garden Room and one of the guests was President Bill Clinton. Ahh, so.

I’ve been seeing more and more of the Clintons lately – the former President, the former Secretary of State and daughter Chelsea. We are reminded that they are New Yorkers too, and both father and daughter have become familiar figures to many New Yorkers as they attend events, dinners, etc., often. Mother, of course, has been on the road for the past few years. (I read yesterday that she’d chalked up a million miles during her terms as Secretary of State.

Bill and Hillary last Thursday at The Wildlife Conservation Society's annual Spring fundraiser.
Bill and Linda Fairstein yesterday at Michael's. Today is the launch date of Linda's latest Alex Cooper detective novel “Terminal City.” Click to order.
Bill with Linda and Jurate Kazickas.
Bill Clinton (with Ellen Futter and Faye Wattleton) sharing his love of space and next read, Lynn Sherr's Sally Ride, America's First Woman in Space. Click to order.
However, Mother is back in town now, with a new book out; and no matter what you read, it does look like she’s got the White House in her thoughts about the future. Just last night, for example, six friends, Martha Stewart, Kathy and Harvey Sloane, Alice Kandell, Congresswoman Carolyn Maloney and Jimmy Xhema hosted a “discussion” on “Ready for Hillary at Ms. Kandell’s Upper East Side penthouse. David Brock was slated to speak. I don’t know if Mrs. Clinton was present although I kind of assumed she would be.

I know about the evening because I had been invited by a friend. And although I was curious to hear Mr. Brock speak (I hadn’t before), I decided not to go because it was essentially a partisan political gathering, and I generally avoid reporting on political gatherings. Anymore. I recall writing about a couple of the fundraisers for Mrs. Clinton when she first ran for Senate, because it was the talk of New York at the time, and they were hosted by friends of mine.

From this writer’s viewpoint, it’s all like watching A Life, and always interesting. The Clintons, whether you like them or not, are rather friendly people for historical characters and mega-celebrities. Both Mister and Missus. They have that old-time neighborly comportment that many of us grew up with in our home towns across America. It comes naturally to them, and it is accepted just as naturally. She’s very gracious, but he delights in it. You can see it’s a pleasure for him to greet people; the ambassador of life.

Experiencing courtesy is always a pleasure, even moreso today where it is often absent, especially with people who are regarded (or self-regarded) as VIPs. This kind of reception, this kind of hail fellow neighbor is not true of all politicians –- no matter their rank –- including the dynastic ones (I’m not referring to any particular family now or then). The Clintons, however, have a real “just folks” quality about them on meeting.

Yesterday about one-fifteen Mr. Clinton appeared in the front room, obviously on his way out. Everyone perked up to have a look. There were several Secret Service men within a few feet of him, as he slowly made his way up to the front, stopping frequently to say hello to people. He looks rather well, compared to the man we see in photos. He’s thinner than the Bill Clinton we first saw in 1992, and the bulkier guy we saw in 1998, but he looks healthy and the eyes were always smiling.

He stopped for several minutes at the table of Dr. Mehmet Oz and was engaged in conversation with Oz and his lunch partner, Montell Williams. Then Mr. Clinton moved on to another and then another. Michael’s was not quiet for a Monday. It was packed. Felicia Taylor (lunching with Ron Insana); Dr. Mitch Rosenthal, Louise Grunwald, Tony Hoyt, Leslie Stevens, and Barbara Liberman whom I was lunching with.

At table one, Linda Fairstein had brought her beau, Michael Goldberg to meet her pals with whom she has one of those traditional group lunches every few weeks: Lesley Stahl, Esther Newberg, Ellen Futter, Faye Wattleton, Jurate Kazickas, Lynn Sherr, and probably some others I’m forgetting or didn’t see.

The picture of Linda with Mr. Clinton was taken because today is the launch date of her latest Alex Cooper detective novel “Terminal City.” Which means she’s going to be traveling across the country and making TV and booksigning appearances.

As the former President was moving through the room, he also posed briefly with Lynn Sherr and her new book, the biography of Sally Ride. He lingered for several minutes, clearly enjoying the conversation and the camaraderie. That is a major portion of his charisma.

As he was about to pass our table, he extended his right hand and said hello to us. “Nice to see you,” I said. “Nice to see you,” he responded.

We don’t know each other; doesn’t matter. Soon he was on his way. This is New York.
A new handbag belonging to Kathy Steinberg whom I dined with this past Sunday night.
Ultra Violet,one of the original members of the Warhol Factory gang died this past Saturday morning (6/14/14) in  New York Hospital. She was 78 and had been ailing from cancer.

Ultra Violet, 2001. Photo: JH.
Born Isabelle Collin Dufresne in La Tronche, France on September 6, 1935 to an upper middle class French family, she was a rebellious girl whose beginnings presaged a presence on the international art scene marked by her relationship with Andy Warhol. She published a memoir in 1988 “Famous for 15 Minutes: My Years With Andy Warhol.”

I met her about fifteen years ago when JH and I first started the New York Social Diary. She was one of our first interviews. She lived in an unusual penthouse on the top of an apartment building behind (and overlooking) the Guggenheim Museum on 88th Street and Fifth Avenue.

She had a quality of quiet authority about her. Hers was a dramatic persona but there nothing hifalutin about her presence; she was one of those people who had no problem expressing her opinions and answering a question directly and candidly.  She was also used to giving interviews to curious reporters like Columbia and Hirsch who were just beginning this thing called the NYSD. We are re-visiting that original interview here.

Catching up. Last Wednesday night, The Central Park Conservancy gathered 850 guests on a beautiful summer evening for the annual Taste of Summer benefit held at Bethesda Terrace. The evening featured its traditional tastings prepared by New York's top restaurants, participated in a luxury-filled silent auction,  and danced to the music by DJ Kiss. Guests included community leaders, philanthropists and prominent New Yorkers all coming together to support Central Park Conservancy's mission of  restoring and maintaining Central Park.  The event, which was sponsored by Macquarie Group, raised $925,000.
The site of Taste of Summer: Bethesda Terrace Arcade.
Marcus Samuelsson hosted The Taste Café featuring dishes from Red Rooster Harlem, American Table Cafe and Bar at Lincoln Center, and Samuelsson at HP at the Fairmont Hamilton Princess Hotel in Hamilton, Bermuda.  35 additional restaurants participated serving sample tastings throughout the evening. 

Some of the signature dishes guests enjoyed: Gooseberries with Tomato and Tarragon from Betony, Crab Cakes with Cucumber Salad and Caper Remoulade from TheCentral Park Boathouse, New England Lobster Roll from Left Bank, Lightly cured Sardines with Sicilian Capers and Confit Lemon from Ristorante Morini, and Fried Cheese Grits with Homemade Chorizo and a Yellow Tomato Radish Salsa from Tavernon the Green.
Reyka Vodka Foraging Bar.
One of the highlights was a Reyka Vodka Foraging bar where guests could create their own cocktails using a selection of herbs, fruits, garnishes and spirits.  William Grant & Sons, a family-owned and independent distiller, was the exclusive spirits partner at this year's Taste of Summer.

Hosts included Central Park Conservancy Trustees and Event Chairmen Kristy and Jonathan Korngold, Carol Sutton Lewis and William M. Lewis, Jr., Laurie and Jay Mandelbaum, Gillian and Sylvester Miniter, Jenny and John Paulson, Melissa Vail and Norman Selby.
Maine Sea Scallop Crudo from The Regency Bar & Grill.
SD26 Soft Egg Yolk Raviolo.
Host Committee members and guests included: Kitty and Tom Kempner (Chairman, Board of Trustees, Central Park Conservancy), Doug Blonsky (President and CEO, Central Park Conservancy and Central Park Administrator), Suzie and Ainar Aijala, Charles Altchek, Sarah Arison, Alexandra Lebenthal and Jay Diamond, Melissa Seligmann Gokhvat and Eugene Gokhvat, Rebecca and Larry Grafstein, Anne Harrison, Yaz and Valentin Hernandez, Rachel and Ara Hovnanian, Cathy and Bill Ingram, Sharon and Bill Jacob, Veronica and Ray Kelly, Kamie and Rich Lightburn, Liz and Jeff Peek, Sandra Ripert, Alexandra and Alex Robertson and Nanar and Tony Yoseloff.
Andrea Fahnestock.Bill Ford, Marigay McKee, Liz Peek, and Jeff Peek.
Rachel Hovnanian, Douglas Blonsky, and Laurie Mandelbaum.
Eugene Gokhvat and Melissa Seligmann Gokhvat.Gillian and Sylvester Miniter.
Elyse Newhouse and Kate Brennan.
Alexandra Lebenthal and Jay Diamond.Chantal McLaughlin and Alexis Clark.
Carol Sutton Lewis, Thelma Golden, and Marcus Samuelsson.
Marcus Samuelsson and Jay Mandelbaum.Jill and Barry Lafer.
Christine Calzolano, Sandra Ripert, and Angela Sculley.
Barbara Cirkva and John Schumacher.Stephanie and Fred Shuman.
Marcus Samuelsson, Tom Kempner, Gillian Miniter, and Douglas Blonsky.
Kristy and Jonathan Korngold.Judy and John Angelo.
Kitty and Tom Kempner.DJ Kiss.
Anna Harrison, Anne Harrison, and Katie Harrison.
Ashley and James Sharpe.
Cathy and Bill Ingram.
Rich Lightburn, Kamie Lightburn, and Jeff Peek.
Valentin Hernandez, Yaz Hernandez, Felicia Taylor, Gillian Miniter, and Serena Miniter.
Bethesda Fountain at night.

Photographs by Will Ragozzino/BFAnyc.com (Taste of Summer)

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Going full tilt

June 18, 2014, 7:49 am
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Reading in Central Park. 2:05 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014. A very very warm day, yesterday in New York, right into the midnight hour (83 degrees and humid). Soon the streets of New York at night will be a-hum -- like a million sound moderators -- with the armies of air conditioners going full tilt.

Paige Peterson and Peter Brown (more on Peter later) high above the parade on Central Park West.
It wasn’t oppressive yesterday, but it had people predicting a long hot summer. I went down to Michael’s to lunch with my friend Paige Peterson who is the Senior Vice President for Strategic Relations at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City.

Paige, who is also a painter, is a highly gregarious individual. She loves people and animals. You might have read about her here more recently because she and her collaborator Chris Cerf just published a new edition of their highly successful children’s book: “Blackie, the Horse Who Stood Still.” Regular NYSD readers may be familiar with her because every year she gives a party the night before the Thanksgiving Day parade at her apartment on Central Park West, takes copious pictures of her guests and of the actual parade the next day, all of which she posts it on the Diary.

Last night in New York: Christopher Buckley and Katy Close,George and Nanette Herrick, Calvin Tomkins and Dodie Kazanjian hosted a booksigning reception for their friend, author Sylvia Jukes Morris whose second volume of her biography of Clare Boothe Luce has just been published. “Price of Fame; the Honorable Clare Boothe Luce” (Random House) was preceded by “Rage For Fame” – a phrase that she applied to herself in her youth. In other words, she wanted to be famous, big time.

Subject, Author: Clare Boothe Luce, and her biographer Sylvia Jukes Morris.
That animal (in rage for fame) is an endlessly curious creature to know, particularly when it is a woman, since she has more mountains to climb and battles to wage before acceptance. Clare Boothe was born in 1903 to the generation who were the children and grandchildren of the Suffragettes. This heritage provided the opportunity of taking advantage of the inroads her forebears created. She also had the wit and gumption to carry out her objectives. Her accomplishments on paper remain remarkable. Author, playwright, screenwriter, the first US woman ambassador, politician (Congress), and wife of two very rich men (never a small matter for an ambitious woman).

Her second husband Henry Luce was the founder and owner of Time, Life and Fortune magazines and arguably the most powerful media owner in the Western Hemisphere mid-century. Mrs. Luce took full advantage of his power and position. With all that, she also had time for more than a little of what we could politely call “romance” in her life.

This was not an easy lady but biographer Morris draws a full, rich picture of the woman’s personality. The subject herself no doubt gave Mrs. Morris a lot of assistance just from her works as a writer (including the highly successful “The Women” both on the stage and in film).

The name Clare Boothe Luce was a household word when I was growing up. Of course I didn’t realize, as a kid, why the adult women who referred to her, were so taken by her. Now, thanks to Sylvia Jukes Morris, you can see why, and it’s a big why, as well as what, where, when, and how. I don’t think there’s been another to compare with the accomplishments of this one woman of the American 20th century.

Last night at Cipriani 42nd Street Literacy Partners were celebrating their 40th Anniversary at a black tie gala. They honored Marcus Dohle, the CEO of Penguin Random House, and presented the 3rd Annual Lizzie Award to Peter Brown. Brown is an Englishman, well known here in New York, who has worn many hats in his now long career, beginning with his relationship to the Beatles in their earliest days, and president of their Apple label.
Guests milling about before dinner.
At table.
The one and only Liz Smith opens the show.
LIZZIE Award Recipient Peter Brown, Chairman & CEO of BLJ Worldwide and LP Board Member.
He has an international reputation for being a man in the know when it comes to managing talent and public images. Last night Valerie Simpson, who performed, told the guests that Peter Brown had been the first manager of Ashford & Simpson and she credited him entirely for their great success in show business. She was only one of the many who valued his advice and friendship. For example, they showed a clip of Yoko Ono, who couldn’t be there last night, thanking Peter for all that he has done for her and John down through the years.

Last night in accepting his award he reminded everyone that this particular charity is very important to the entire community (helping adults learn to read), and raising money for it was always a job. “People tend to give to causes that they can relate to, such as medical…” Most of us who can read take it for granted that everyone can. We usually never even consider what it must be like to lack that fundamental ability.
Nicholas Kristof introducing the evening's honoree, Markus Dohle.
Markus Dohle, CEO of Penguin Random House.
Board Members Leslie Klotz and Jeff Sharp.
Yoko Ono thanking Peter for all that he has done for her and John down through the years.
Last night’s celebration was maybe the best of all those I’ve attended over the years. Liz Smith emceed and remarked that she’d recently read that the over-90 crowd was the fastest growing demographic in this country. She introduced the “Guest Readers”: Bette Midler and Gary Shteyngart.

Ms. Midler read from her 1980 memoir “A View From A Broad” which has just been reissued. I could say she was amusing at times, because she always is. But she also had a moment in her reading, recalling two of her very closest friends who died of AIDS, and demonstrated unintentionally how the memory of those losses still can overwhelm her emotionally, as we witnessed last night. She took us with her in memory: “The ‘80s were official end of the ‘60s,” she read, when the blue skies turned to grey with the oncoming epidemic.

Bette Midler is one of those performers who, no matter what she speaks or performs, or whatever the message, she is irresistible.
Bette Midler reading from A View from A Broad. Click above to play.
Gary Shteyngart was born in Leningrad in 1972 and came to this country when he was seven. His bestselling memoir is “Little Failure” (his mother used to call him that). He’s also written three novels, “Super Sad True Love Story,” ”Absurdistan,” and “The Russian Debutante’s Handbook” along with fiction and essays for The New Yorker, Esquire, GQ, Travel + Leisure, The New York Times Magazine. He’s been published in 28 languages. His wit and personality have shades of Woody Allen, a kind of simpatico (not imitation), but of course with a Russian-bred sensibility. I haven’t read “Little Failure” but several friends have been raving about it.
Alina Cho introducing her new BFF author Gary Shteyngart.
Gary Shteyngart reading from Little Failure: A Memoir.
After the Guest Readings, two people, Victor Bazemore and Beverly Jenkins, students with Literacy Partners who have achieved readership through the programs, were introduced and read a speech they’d written about their experience. This gives everyone in the room a chance to realize how crucial it is to the community that everyone, man, woman and child, need to be able to read.

Beverly Jenkins read to us what she’d written about her personal life that led to the dilemma where she couldn’t read above second grade level. Her life experience in childhood and young adulthood was hair-raising, and rife with life-threatening danger and violence. By the time she was fourteen she was living on the streets, without a home. She told us last night that she has just been accepted to begin college. She’s forty-one. She’s brave and courageous, resolute and self-respecting enough to know she can depend on those qualities to assist her.
Student presentation by Beverly Jenkins.
Ira Joe Fisher conducting the live auction.
Beverly Jenkins, Victor Bazemore, and Executive Director Anthony Tassi take in the live auction.
This is what Literacy Partners does and has been doing for the past forty years for more than 37,000 New Yorkers. They could do more with more funds. A better world is still out there.

After the awards and speeches, Nona Hendryx, the singer songwriter (“Lady Marmalade”) came out to perform with her singers, as part of the tribute to Peter Brown. Hendryx (who is a cousin of Jimi Hendryx) and Brown are also long time friends. Ms. Hendryx, who will be 70 this coming October, has still has her youth, her petite, shapely figure and her dynamic performance that command the audience. She sang a couple of the Beatles’ songs that she associates with Peter Brown, including “All You Need is Love.”
Nona Hendryx singing "Lady Marmalade" before moving onto “All You Need is Love" with Valerie Simpson.
Valerie Simpson singing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough."
Nona Hendryx singing “All You Need is Love" with Valerie Simpson.
Valerie Simpson congratulates Peter Brown.
Beth Kseniak, Elizabeth Peabody, and Walter Owen with Joni Evans, Bob Perkins, and Bill Hamilton.
Philippe Delouvrier and Paige Peterson.
Barbara Taylor Bradford and Bob Bradford.
Liz Smith and Barbara Taylor Bradford.
Sam Peabody and Joni Evans.
Iris Love and Tina Flaherty.
Toni Goodale and Aaron Latham.
Linda Yellen and Denis Ferrara.
 

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The Haves and the Have Nots

June 19, 2014, 9:40 am
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7:45 PM. Photo: JH.
Thursday, June 19, 2014. A very hot day in New York, humid with temperatures in the high 80s, dropping to 81 degrees by the midnight hour. 

With the summer heat comes, more or less, the end of the institutional part of the social season. The private schools have let out and many of those who can, are moving to their summer places such as the Hamptons, of course, and Newport and Nantucket, and Aspen -- which is now the favorite destination for many New Yorkers who own or rent houses there. They like the mountains where it’s sunny, dry and 80 degrees in the day time, and 60 degrees at night. The Aspen Institute draws a wide array of major personages from a variety of interests and sources. The art scene is active and museum building. The social scene is the old fashion kind where people entertain in their houses (like Americans who live in the West). And the demographic includes a lot of people from Texas and California. It gives the New Yorkers among them a jolt of fresh air and attitudes. That’s what I’m told by friends who’ve forsaken the Hamptons for Aspen.
Chinooks flying over.
Then of course, there’s the yachting set, also a growing demographic in these heady days of overnight billionaires, and the prime location remains the Mediterranean. Cruising around the coasts and the islands of the ancient lands surrounding, is not new at all. It is perhaps the greatest luxury in so many ways. What is new is the increasing numbers of Americans -- New Yorkers, Hamptonites --  who are spending a few weeks away from their villas on Gin Lane and Ox Pasture, away from those glad madding crowds, just dallying about the deep blue sea and surrounded by all those other yachts, and ports and islands, like Capri and Sardinia and Corsica and then on to St. Tropez. Who needs the Bathing Corporation or the Maidstone?

Soon-to-be newlyweds Michael Shnayerson and Gayfryd Steinberg.
Meanwhile back among those stalwart clubs by the blue Atlantic, the talk this season is about not divorce or real estate lottery tales, but instead, real Good News -- about a wedding. Invitations went out this week inviting the recipients to attend the marriage of Gayfryd Steinberg and Michael Shnayerson on Sunday, August 10th at the Temple Adas Israel in Sag Harbor. This is a real romance story, pure and simple. You almost can’t believe it. They’ve both been married more than once, raised children, made solid lives for themselves lasting, and now this.

If you witness it, you’re watching something that reminds you of when you were young and naturally intensely passionate. And romantic under the most ideal circumstances. Well, this is it. I’m not kidding. A mutual friend told me she saw the bride-to-be the other day and commented on how this naturally beautiful woman looks more beautiful than ever. My friend recalled the moment in awe. “It can only mean one thing," she said: "she’s very happy." You’re going to be reading more about this event and its players because it’s a bright light and something for everyone of a certain age – middle and up -- to consider.

All this and Michael’s too ... Yesterday was Wednesday. So ... Michael’s was full up but that clatter chatter that sometimes creates momentary deafness was not operating. A little more reserved. A lot of the regulars. In the bay, Table One, Diane Coffey was hosting a lunch in honor of her friend Bob Tierney of the Landmarks commission. This was a table of friends and political chums.

Diane Coffey was hosting a lunch in honor of her friend Bob Tierney.
At the table next to mine Nikki Haskell was lunching with Michael Klein, an old friend from Beverly Hills. In the corner David Zinczenko, writer/publisher magazine editor/TV reporter, was lunching with Barbara Fedida, SVP of talent at ABC Television. Across the way: Dr. Imber, Mr. Della Femina, Mr. Bergman and a young woman who had their ears, and their smiles.

Next to them: Diane Clehane, the Brenda Starr  of Michael’s as well as a lunch journalist for mediabistro.  Diane was lunching with Dini von Mueffling. Dini is a seasoned PR consultant, a lifelong girl from up on Park Avenue, naturally philanthropic and always enterprising. Among Dini’s new clients, according to Brenda/Diane, is Monica Lewinsky. Well, why not? Who needs anonymity in the world of Twitter and Instagram.

PR in New York is serious business. It may be because the client wants to promote a product, or create a public image (and maybe eventually become a “brand” – seriously, I’m not kidding – or promote a charity or a business. It’s all business at the end of the day).

Diane Clehane with Dini von Mueffling (via Mediabistro)
It may be that the client just wants to be “famous.” For what; who cares; you ask?  Fame is its own aphrodisiac. They think. The Kardashians turned it into an income generating business. All through the magic of PR – their own creations or a professional’s.

Back at the tables; around the room:Charles Shuler with Kristin (Mrs. Jim) Dolan;  John Arnhold; Bob Towbin; Stan Shuman; Elizabeth Musmanno; Tracey Jackson  with Diane Nelson; Glenn Horowitz (Tracey’s husband) with another guest; Brian Grodin; Jerry Inzerillo of ForbesTravelGuide.com; Jack Kliger; Shelly Palmer; Kay Pick with Jim Mitchell; Henry Schleiff with Kerry Kennedy; Scott Singer; Leslie Stevens with Jesse Kornbluth; Michael Appelbaum; Michael Perlis of Forbes Media; George Malkemus, the Manolo man, with Michael Atmore of Footwear News; TV anchor Lynne White; Sarabeth Shrager; Lawrence Stuart, and Penny Bianchi, an old friend of mine from Montecito whom I met through the internet and the NYSD.
Catching up. This past Monday afternoon, Bachmann-Strauss Dystonia & Parkinson Foundation’s 22nd Annual Hedi Kravis Ruger Memorial Golf Invitational at the Century Country Club in Purchase, New York. The benefit raised more than $1,1 millioin to help fund fund dystonia and Parkinson’s disease research. Willie Geist, co-host of NBC’s Today’s Take and MSNBC’s Morning Joe, served as emcee. Willie and his father Bill Geist, who is host of CBS’ Sunday Morning, recently co-authored Good Talk, Dad, after Bill was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.

The theme of this year’s event was Stepping Forward Towards a Cure, focusing on recent advancements in dystonia and Parkinson’s research, and the challenges ahead in finding better treatments and cures.
Golfers take off to their starting holes.
The full-day, invitation-only event started at 11 a.m., and included a buffet lunch, Pro-Am golf tournament, cocktails, a live auction, concluding with dinner. Jamie Niven, Chairman of Sotheby’s, once again hosted the live auction, which featured one-of-a-kind items such as a private dinner for 10 with actress Blythe Danner, a decadent dinner for 12 prepared by celebrity chef David Burke; a golf outing hosted by a club member at the esteemed Shinnecock Hills Golf Club; and a week’s vacation at the Villa Avalon in St. Barths, among other luxurious items.

The live auction raised $160,400, the Foundation’s most successful auction in six years. 
Barrie Damson, Golf Pro Tish Certo, Arthur Levitt, and Edgar Wachenheim.
Emily Frick, Ann Pyne, Edith Tuckerman, Barbara Israel, and Nelson Long.
David Barton, Laddie Sanford, Lance Spacek, Jason Spacek, and Tony Fabrizzio.
Susan Cullman, John Kirby, Golf Pro Kammy Maxfeldt, Jack Gage, and Debbie Hodes.
The event attracted top CEOs and executives who joined forces to help raise much-needed funding for dystonia and Parkinson’s disease research. In addition to Charlie Collier, president of AMC, notable guests included Thomas W. Strauss, chairman of Ramius, LLC and vice chairman, Cowen Group; Jason Spacek, managing director in the Alternative Asset Group at RBC Capital Markets; and others. 154 people participated in the golf portion of the event, and prizes were given out to the top teams, who competed in four categories:

• Men’s Low Net: Dave D’Anna, Joe Falgaras, Mark Mennit, and Wayne Silberstein took first place with a score of 52. They played with golf pro Jessica Carafiello.

• Women’s/Mixed Low Net: Susan Harrison, John Patin, and Kim Smith Spacek took first place with a score of 48. They played with golf pro Donny Jarvis.

• Men’s Low Gross: Mark Bezos, Michael Boxer, Sean Miller, and Jeff Schwartz took first place with a score of 57. They played with golf pro Rob Labritz.

• Women’s/Mixed Low Gross: Rob Burch, Liz Clyman, Peter Rackoff, and Josh Sandbulte took first place with a score of 58. They played with golf pro Paula Slavinsky.
Bonnie Strauss, Susan Cullman, and John Kirby.
Jay Goldberg and Tom Strauss.
Mark Standish and Tom Strauss.
David Janes of the US Japan Foundation, Ann Johnson, Tom Johnson, Timothy Ryab, and Morris Offit.
Willie Geist of MSNBC's Morning Joe and NBC's Today's Take.
Jamie Niven, Chairman of Sotheby's.
Gohei Nishikawa.
The evening program featured an inspirational speech by 16-year-old Ben Collier of Darien, the son of Kristin Collier and Charlie Collier. An avid tennis and piano player, Ben noticed something wrong with his right foot last year. It was turning in at an odd angle and he began experiencing pain and loss of balance.  He was ultimately diagnosed with dystonia, a neurological movement disorder that causes uncontrollable and, at times, painful spasms in one or more parts of the body. It affects an estimated 500,000 men, women, and children in North America alone, striking more people than muscular dystrophy, Huntington’s disease, and Lou Gehrig’s disease combined.

Soon after his diagnosis, the disorder began to spread to his left foot. Although discouraged when he learned that he had dystonia, Ben has refused to let it interfere with his life. Today, he takes medication for it and continues to live the life of an active, involved teenager. He also acts as an advocate for other teens with dystonia.
Kristen Collier, Ben Collier, and Charles Collier.
 

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Weekend musings

June 22, 2014, 8:00 pm
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Going green. 6:00 PM. Photo: JH.
Monday, June 23, 2014. Another beautiful Summer weekend on the first day of Summer. Blue skies, some clouds, not too hot; cool at night, clear. No complaints.

Sunday, in the late morning, I took the dogs out for their walks. We walked the block down 83rd Street to the river.  I’d brought my camera (I always take my camera – you never know and I’m lousy with the iPhone camera). As soon as we turned the corner on 83rd, I saw at the river’s edge, a massive crane quickly floating by. I love all these river boats, and cranes are dramatic since they naturally evoke awe and wonder, just like when you were a kid.
There she is, well along the way before I could get a shot of her ...
I wanted to run down the block to get a closeup because it was close to the railing, on the westernmost edge of the channel. From a couple hundred yards (East End Avenue), it looked like you could reach out and touch it as it very smoothly floated by. But Byrone is a dawdler and small as he is, he’s like pulling dead weight when he’s busy trying to sniff something.

By the time we got to the Promenade, the barge with crane was no longer close to the edge, but mid-channel and approaching Randall’s Island and the bridges. It was moving very quickly for such an enormous barge being pulled by a good sized tug.

The sense I had of its size when it was passing by the 83rd Street section of the Promenade is lost in these pictures. Much to my disappointment. Because it was astoundingly enormous.
Passing by moving down river is a private sail boat. I took this picture to give you a sense the size of the barge and crane.
The same sailboat passing by our spot on the Promenade.
I love watching the river, as you may know by now if you visit us regularly. It’s full of passing interest and fascination always changing, as well as being a vast well of human and wildlife drama. The river is carrying the information. When Hurricane Sandy was moving through, although we in this neighborhood were not exposed to its hurricane rain and wind, the river was making it very clear. Mother Nature’s Son.

Mainly it’s watching the great variety of boats, all full of lives and stories to these wondering eyes. But the river itself, I have learned, having lived by it and watched it for the past more than  twenty years, is the message about This Life of Ours. Always moving, always moving on; and taking us with her.
And what should come along right after but something smaller -- a couple on jet skis.
Thursday night, Susan Burke and Charlotte Ford hosted a cocktail reception in the back room at Swifty’s for Charles Masson and several of his paintings. I got there early because I had to go on to dinner. There were about 25 when I took the picture but more than 80 turned up to greet Charles, and 7 pictures were sold that night.

This is how New York is a village, like any other. Charles has been a painter all his life. So was his father. And their mentor was Bernard Lamotte, who for years had a studio on the second floor of La Grenouille, the restaurant that Charles’ father and mother started and ran until death made changes.

For the last almost two decades that Charles had been running the great restaurant, he kept a small studio for his painting off a small passage above the second floor (the building was built in 1871 as a stable for the mansion across the street).  Up until his sudden departure from the restaurant a few months ago, it was here where Charles continued to paint in the tradition of his father and of Bernard Lamotte.
Entering the back room of Swifty's for the reception for Charles Masson last Thursday night.
Charles’ sudden departure was a matter of distress to many of his friends and the restaurant’s very loyal and admiring clientele. Because the artist was the manager and created an atmosphere that was as sensitive and beautiful as his paintings. We ran a long piece on Charles in the restaurant last year. You can get a sense of it in that piece.

Recently we learned that he’s going to be the general manager of a new French restaurant opening in the new Baccarat Hotel on West 53rd Street, just around the corner from his home restaurant.
Liz Smith with Charles Masson in front of one of his paintings.
Charlotte Ford and Duane Hampton.
Susan Burke, when she heard the news, decided it was time to celebrate. She arranged through Robert Caravaggi at Swifty’s to exhibit some of Charles’ paintings and watercolors and to give this reception. The (Swifty) neighbors all came. Liz Smith had just written about Charles in her column on the NYSD that day, and she was there. It was also a little like old home week as  Swifty’s and La Grenouille were/are patronized by many of the same clientele.
Sessa and Richard Johnson with Jane Cuozzo.
Susan Burke, Charlotte Ford, and Sydney Shuman.
I startled Alexandra Schlesinger, as you can see, looking to get a shot of Sam Peabody with Mary McFadden, whom I haven't seen in a while.
That's Carmen in the black and white, Jay Jolly, and Elizabeth Peabody.Barbara Uzielli.
Liz is listening and Duane is telling.
Otherwise, it was a quiet weekend in New York for this writer. I went out to dinner with friends on Friday night at Swifty’s, Saturday night at Bar Italia, and Sunday night at Sette Mezzo. Otherwise, besides my Zabar’s run and walking the dogs, I was at home, often reading.

I’m reading, as I’ve written here before, the Barbara Stanwyck biography by Victoria Wilson. The book has been well publicized but it is a big one – almost 900 pages of text as well as another 150 pages of references, acknowledgements, index and bibliography – and challenging to the eye. However, Wilson’s scholarliness on the subject of the life of a movie actress, a movie star whose career ran (she worked) for six decades, is awesome. And what quietly piques your curiosity at the outset – the picture – eventually grabs you so that you know if you don’t finish it, you’re going to miss something ...

I was slow in starting the book because of its size. I found right off that it was a very easy read. Wilson’s literary style is short (but not too) and succinct. She’s there to tell you a story, to show you a world, and a time, and a woman who against great odds progressed and succeeded, and what she was like, and what it was like, and what the people were like. 

I’m a Hollywood fan anyway. I lived out there for several years and never lost my awe and curiosity about the place, and the world, and the life. I had a brief, albeit short but trenchant view of it working with Debbie Reynolds on her autobiography “Debbie, My Life” (William Morrow 1988). Those women who have had long and successful careers in that business understand it as a business and their obligations to it. They also have a high regard for talent – all kinds of talent. They learn from it and it enhances them. That is a big part of the success that they represent in the business.
As a showgirl with Ziegfeld Follies.
As an "honest gambler" in Gambling Lady.
Reading about Stanwyck, I’m reminded of Debbie Reynolds, another one of those rare women who succeeded in that business on her own terms despite whatever barriers and disasters would confront her. For her, for them, it’s all about the work. The commitment is as natural as any artist or great creative talent.

Despite my tentativeness in getting into this book, now at page 500, I am well into it and regret only that I couldn’t read it all in one night because it is a rich portrait of a life and its environment and atmosphere, and it’s Hollywood. Nathanael West, Raymond Chandler and Joan Didion novelized it, Victoria Wilson lives it in “A Life of Barbara Stanwyck; Steel True 1907-1940” (Volume One – Stanwyck died in 1990).  If you are a movie fan, a filmmaking fan, a fan of Hollywood history, a filmmaker, or would be, should be, could be, or even just a person who is completely a TCM addict, this book you should be reading.
 

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Back in town

June 25, 2014, 6:57 am
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Central Park. 2:00 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014. Another warm and sunny day, yesterday in New York with temperatures in the low 70s last night and the weatherman predicting much warmer temperatures (80s) and thunderstorms today and tomorrow.

There was nothing of note on the calendar to be covered and from the looks of it there won’t be until the beginning of next week, and then just briefly, because of the Fourth of July holiday. Many will be leaving town for a very long weekend (or even vacation) by next Wednesday.
Hudson River, 11 AM. Photo: JH.
This past Sunday, June 22nd June in far off Gloucestershire, UK, the Goldin Group Charity Polo Cup 2014 took place at the Beaufort Polo Club sponsored, by Goldin Group and its Tianjin Goldin Metropolitan Polo Club. The Piaget and Royal Salute teams battled it out on the famous Beaufort Polo Club field in Tetbury. Piaget brought home a victory, with a close score of seven goals to five and a half.

The event had two very special guests - HRH Prince Henry of Wales playing for Piaget, and HRH The Duke of Cambridge – otherwise known to Americans as Harry and William (or Wills) playing for Royal Salute.
Piaget team's Facundo Pieres and Royal Salute team's HRH The Duke of Cambridge go head to head in the Goldin Group Charity Polo Cup.
The two princes took part in the game in aid of their chosen charities -- Household Cavalry Foundation, Irish Guards Appeal Fund, RFU Injured Players Foundation and Welsh Rugby Charitable Trust.

The players for Piaget were:  Corinne Ricard (0), Prince Harry (1), Facundo Pieres (10), and  John Fisher (4)

The Royal Salute team: Tommy Kato (-1), Luis Escobar, (7) Malcolm Borwick (6), and HRH The Duke of Cambridge (1)
HRH Prince Henry of Wales plays for the Piage team.
This display of sportsmanship drew a crowd of more than 2,000. They were treated to sensational match played by the Princes and some of the best polo players in the world. The day culminated with the Piaget Team and world-class player, Facundo Pieres (of the Ellerstina Piaget and also a World Polo Ambassador for Royal Salute) leading his team, which also included female player Corinne Ricard, to a triumphant victory.

This year marks the 140th anniversary of Piaget which has maintained a strong heritage with polo spanning more than three decades.
The Prize Presentation at the Goldin Group Charity Polo Day.
Back in town. Yesterday morning many New Yorkers awoke to the very sad email message that Rodman (Rod) Drake had died the night before, in his sleep, surrounded by his family at his apartment on Park Avenue. Rod had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer three and a half months before. He had undergone some treatment and been hospitalized recently. Although his friends all knew of his illness, yesterday was the day that he had planned to host a birthday party for his wife Jackie at their home.

Jackie and Rod in 2013.
A graduate of Yale, Class of ’65, he received his B.A. in Latin American Studies, and later acquired an MBA at Harvard Business School. Investment advisor, consultant, investor, board member, a passionate collector of American illustration art and a Dog’s Best Friend (he’d served as a Director of the Animal Medical Center), in the following almost five decades from his graduation at Yale, Rod had served on many corporate boards, as well funds and investment groups.

The father of two sons by his first wife, he was a friend to many (including  lifelong friendships with his suitemates from Yale. He and Jackie, author and biographer, the former Jacqueline Bograd Weld, married in December 1998 in a ceremony in Jackie’s apartment before 30 guests and Rod’s dog, Vasco de Gama.

Their friend Susan Cheever who attended, described the couple to the New York Times, “She’s like a parrot, and he’s like an owl. She’s very colorful and flamboyant, and he’s solid and sweet and wise. And he goes out a night, which she requires.”

It was a good one. The marriage to Jackie also brought him a social life, which Cheever referred to. Jackie is very active philanthropically, particularly with Casita Maria. Rod had previously been one of those who tended to stay close to the hearth when not working. A few years ago, they bought a house in Palm Beach for winter weekends and vacations, which went along with the active social life he took on his new marriage.

The Funeral is planned for Tuesday July 1st at 2:30 pm at The General Theological Seminary of The Episcopal Church at 440 West 21st Street (between Ninth and Tenth Avenues).
 

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Public installations

June 26, 2014, 7:35 am
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Taking a break. 5:00 PM. Photo: JH.
Thursday, June 26, 2014. A very warm, sunny Summer’s day in New York (mid-80s) with the weatherman forecasting torrential thunderstorms in the evening (at 11 pm, I’m still waiting).

Last night at the Riverside Viaduct at 125th Street and 12th Avenue, lighting designer Bentley Meeker inaugurated the public installation of his giant “H in Harlem” letter, surrounded by an oval aluminum truss, which is suspended from the viaduct. The “H” is in keeping with Bentley’s past work exploring the properties of light – two different types: LED and white full spectrum plasma juxtaposed with one another.
This was presented by Bentley to celebrate the Harlem community – of which he has been a resident for the past several years – and was presented with the support of four neighborhood entities – Manhattan Community Board 9, the 125th Street Business Improvement District, West Harlem Art Fund, and the New York City Department of Transportation’s Art Program. It’ll be on view through September 25th. Best time to see it would be after dark.
Meanwhile, it was Wednesday and it was Michael’s, and it was busy. PR executive Jim Abernathy with Davidson Goldin, journalist Diane Clehane with TV producer Joan Gelman and tv political commentator and pr consultant Robert Zimmerman, Greg Lawrence, Sanford of the WSJ and Stein; the girls from New Jersey who come in and partake of the menu at the bar every month (you’ve read about them here), and people watch: Kira Semler with Vi Huse; Steven Stolman; Hollywood Life.com’s Bonnie Fuller with Penske Media Vice Chair Gerry Byrne holding their weekly round table of guests including: Dean Henley, Justin Fadgen, Sukanya Krishnan, Kimberly Berhardt, Smita Reddy, Jay Margolis, Elena Kim, Allyn Seidman, Abby Raphael; next door to them: Betsy Perry with Catherine Rosin; and next door to them: Tom Brokaw.

Moving around the room:  Alexandre Chemia, Michael Claes with Fraser Seitel, Barry Frey with Adam Platzner; PR executive Elizabeth Harrison; Martha Kramer and Annabelle Begelman in from Los Angeles; Lisa Linden with Peter Neger, Jamie MacGuire; Alice Mayhew; Stanley Mohr with Frank Gifford; Nick Verbitsky; Joan Kron; Andrew Stein; Andrew Blauner; Roger Friedman celebrating Jill Brooke’s birthday (she turned 30, big day); Ron Insana; Jerery Inzerillo; Marc Rosen; William Lauder with his daughter Danielle; Bonnie Timmerman; Spencer Wang; Vaughn  Williams; Joyce Mishel, Stan Shuman. I was so busy talking to Simon & Schuster editor Tim Duggan, that that is all I remember.

Coming to a bookseller near you on
September 30th, 2014.
Last night I had dinner at Sette Mezzo with Margo Howard, in from Cambridge/Boston for a publicity and advertising luncheon at Le Bernardin for her new memoir “Eat, Drink & Remarry; Confessions of a Serial Wife,” which is coming out in October. I’ll tell you more about it when you can buy it.

Margo who is the daughter and only child of the late Eppie Lederer, aka Ann Landers has been married three times (as far as I know) and is currently happily married for a number of years now, to a doctor in Cambridge. She’s been writing all her life (she wrote a book about her mother whom I had met on her frequent visits to Los Angeles – where Margo and I also first met (she doesn’t remember). She is one of those people who has no trouble giving you the here’s-the-facts details in her work. This is a talent all its own even for a writer who can’t keep anything to him/or herself. 

Sette was bustling, and although it’s a very popular neighborhood Italian restaurant, celebrities often find their way there. Last night it was Charlie Rose dining with mega-mogul David Geffen, and next door to them producer Marty Bregman dining with Al Pacino.

Liz O’Brien, a purveyor of 20th century design items and an advertiser of NYSD, carries all kinds of products and designs for the home of American and European designers. One day I was looking at her web site when I found the collection of Mark Shaw photographs that you can buy on 1st Dibs.

Shaw was a famous American fashion and celebrity photographer in the '50s and '60s. He was a New York boy, born Mark Schlossman in 1921 (his birthday anniversary was yesterday) on the Lower East Side. He served in the Second World War as a pilot, flying fighters with the British forces in the North African Campaign and later transports in India and China. His expertise got him assigned as the personal pilot to Russian General Zhukov (when we were allies), and later flew General Douglas MacArthur to Japan for the official surrender in 1945.
Mark Shaw,John F. Kennedy, 1959
After the War, back in New York he went to work for Harper’s Bazaar. In 1952 he became a freelance photographer for LIFE. The magazine was the most widely read weekly magazine in America and its stable of photographers and photojournalists -- were the most prestigious and widely viewed in the world.

In 1959, LIFE assigned Shaw (who changed his name -- as did his mother -- after the War) to do a piece on Senator John F. Kennedy and his wife Jacqueline when Kennedy was running for President. Some of those photographs are now iconic images of the couple and their new family.
Mark Shaw, The Kennedy's Outside Their Georgetown Home

The Kennedy's outside their Georgetown home in 1959 where they lived while John F. Kennedy was senator. This would be their last residence before the White House.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Although he had previously photographed some of the most famous men and women of the time including Brigitte Bardot, Grace Kelly, Picasso, YSL, Elizabeth Taylor, Danny Kaye, Cary Grant, and Audrey Hepburn– to name only a few – his series of photographs of the young and handsome Kennedys made him famous to the average American – LIFE readers who looked at the pictures and rarely noticed the photo credit.

That assignment led to a close relationship with the couple. Indeed, those of us who were young and impressed by the freshness of the Kennedy image, are still familiar with many of Shaw’s photo images of them, the viewing of which today often leaves a bittersweet nostalgia for those days when young America was inspired by Jack and Jackie.
Mark Shaw, Jacqueline and Caroline Kennedy Touch Noses, photographed in Georgetown in 1959.
Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw died in 1969 of amphetamine poisoning. He had been a client of a very famous (at the time) New York doctor named Max Jacobson. Jacobson was known as  “Dr. Feelgood” and he had a raft of famous patients who visited him frequently for his “feelgood” injections known as “vitamin shots” (a mixture of multivitamins, steroids animal organ cells, hormones, placenta, bone marrow and high doses of amphetamines).

The patients included the Kennedys as well as Mickey Mantle, Yul Brynner, Marlene Dietrich, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Nelson Rockefeller, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote Alan Jay Lerner, Eddie Fisher and a host of prominent New Yorkers such as fashion designers, models and society figures. It was, indeed, fashionable to go to Dr. Max for your pick me up shots.
Mark Shaw, Jacqueline Kennedy and John Jr. in Palm Beach, 1963


Image size 10" x 15"/Paper size 11" x 17"
John Kennedy had his first treatments shortly before the Presidential Debates with Richard Nixon. Kennedy, when later informed by the FDA of the ingredients of Jacobson’s shots, was quoted as saying “I don’t care if it’s horse piss. It works.” The doctor’s injections were for Kennedy’s severe back pain. He visited the White House to treat the President 34 times.

Jacobson’s practice was eventually publicized in New York Magazine, and Mark Shaw’s untimely death (first thought to be a heart attack) revealed that it was the “acute and chronic intravenous amphetamine poisoning” that killed him. That was the beginning of the end of the doctor’s career. His license was revoked six years later.
“I don’t care if it’s horse piss. It works.”
It should be said that Jacobson’s practice flourished because the dangers of amphetamines were still unknown to most people. The general public was totally unaware of the drug itself. They had long been popular for medical treatment of pain and also to energize people for their work (Judy Garland is a classic example, when she was a teenager at MGM).

However, reviewing Liz O’Brien’s photographic prints of Mark Shaw’s work take you away from his tragic ending and into the world of beauty that he captured with his camera. Looking at them today, you can see clearly the sense of style that marked that short and glamorous and emotionally accessible Age that followed the terrible War that changed everything forever.

These photographs I chose are only part of the collection, prints of which are for sale here.
Mark Shaw, Coco Chanel In Her Apartment On The Rue Cambon

This photo, published in LIFE in 1957, shows Coco Chanel, aged 74, at her apartment on the Rue Cambon in Paris reclining on her massive divan. In notes taken from the LIFE picture library, it was noted that Mark Shaw "crept as close to Chanel as anyone is ever likely to get with their Leica on. She said so herself." Mark Shaw's informal, grainy, black and white images of Coco Chanel were created using an unobtrusive 35mm camera and film processing methods that enabled him to eliminate all other photographic equipment. Although Shaw's techniques increased the grain and contrast of the photographs, the lack of intimidating, distracting flash and lights allowed him to capture an unusually relaxed Chanel.

Image size 13.75" x 20"/Paper size 17" x 22", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Coco Shrugs

Photographed for LIFE in 1957, Coco Chanel is seen "in her 30 million franc ($85,000) necklace and two-year-old suit…"

Image size 10" x 15"/Paper size 11" x 17"
Mark Shaw, Portrait of Coco Chanel and Jeanne Moreau

Chanel visits with Jeanne Moreau, the famous French film actress. This color image is a rare addition to the black and white photo essay done by Mark Shaw for LIFE magazine in 1957.
Image size 22" x 22"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw,Brigitte Bardot, Hands in Lap, 1958

Image size 10" x 15"/Paper size 11" x 17"
Mark Shaw, Jane Sprague in Blue Fath Gown

Photographed in 1953 at the French country estate, Corbeville, Jane Sprague models a ball gown by Fath.

Image size 22" x 22"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 15
Mark Shaw,Grace Kelly

Grace Kelly, later Princess Grace of Monaco, photographed by Mark Shaw in 1954.

24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Elizabeth Taylor in Dior

Mark Shaw was sent by LIFE to photograph Elizabeth Taylor for the April 28, 1961 issue. The images he took were never used for the article that celebrated her acceptance of the Oscar for best actress of 1960 for her role as a semi-pro call girl in the movie Butterfield 8. Shaw's stunning portraits show Taylor in her Oscar ceremony finery, a dress called "Soiree a Rio" from Dior's Spring-Summer 1961 Haute Couture collection.

Image size 22" x 22"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Audrey Hepburn Walking Away, 1953

11 x 17 inch Giclee print on Hahnemuhle Photo Rag
Signed, titled and numbered in pencil on Archives stamp verso
Edition 1 of 30

From the Estate of Mark Shaw/Mark Shaw Photographic Archive
Mark Shaw, Audrey Hepburn During the Filming of Sabrina

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Henrietta Tiarks, Black Gown

Photographed by Mark Shaw for the March 2, 1959 issue of LIFE magazine, Henrietta Tiarks, later the Duchess of Bedford, was featured full page modeling a silk cocktail dress designed by Crahay of Nina Ricci, reportedly the "single most popular dress in Paris" for the season.

Image size 22" x 22"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, James Galanos at the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum

Photographed by Mark Shaw for the Nov. 22, 1954 issue of LIFE magazine, 29- year-old fashion designer James Galanos is pictured in the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum surrounded by live models wearing his designs. Background mannequins are clothed in vintage fashions up to 150 years old.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Gitta Schilling Wears Dior in Suzanne Luling's Home

Gitta Schilling in a Dior gown photographed for LIFE's Designer's Homes in 1960. The ornate interior is the 17th century home of Suzanne Luling, then directrice of Dior, in Paris.

Image size 16" x 16"/Paper size 17" x 22", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Yves St. Laurent in His Studio

Image size 13.75" x 20"/Paper size 17" x 22", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Sophie Malgat in Gray Chiffon Dior in Dior's Paris Home

Outtake from a shoot for LIFE Nov. 9, 1953 issue. Mark Shaw's camera captured this Dior clad model in the sunroom of Dior's home in Passy. The house was originally built in the early 1900s for an actress of the Comedie Francaise.

Image size 22" x 22"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Lee Radziwill in White Silk Lanvin Castillo

In McCall's November 1962 issue Radziwill wrote "Another lovely Castillo dress is this one of white silk. It is strapless, and has a jacket of tulle, embroidered with amethyst-colored stones."

Radziwill's former palatial homes in England were decorated by the late Renzo Mongiardino.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Picasso with Bettina Graziani in His Cannes Villa

Photographed for LIFE in 1955 in his new Cannes Villa, La Californie, Picasso celebrates his fashion debut by clowning around with a fedora and a sword. Top French model, Bettina Graziani, wears an outfit by American fashion designer Claire McCardell. The shirt's pattern was designed by Picasso in the style of one of his still lifes. All the Picasso paintings pictured had been completed within the past few months.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Marc Chagall in His Studio With Model Wearing Fabric of His Design

Marc Chagall shown in his studio in Vence, France. Photographed by Mark Shaw for LIFE magazine in 1955. This LIFE story featured artists and their designs for fabrics for US firm Fuller Fabrics which were used by American Designer Claire McCardell. The Model here is Ivy Nicholson and she stands with Chagall in front of his painting Le Soleil Rouge.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Mark Shaw, Fernand Leger in His Studio With Model Wearing Fabric in the Style of His Work

Photographed by Mark Shaw for LIFE in 1955, two weeks before his death, Fernand Leger posed for this final portrait in his Paris Studio. Leger's studio is the one he had worked in since 1913. British model Anne Gunning wears an ankle length gown by American Fashion Designer Claire McCardell. The fabric's pattern is in the style of Leger's work best seen in the painting of two women, left, and in the half hidden still life.

Image size 22" x 32"/Paper size 24" x 36", Edition of 30
Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, the much anticipated 5th edition of Masterpiece London in association with RBC Wealth Management opened its doors for an eight day run on the magnificent south grounds of the Royals Hospital Chelsea.
Masterpiece London 2014 Preview. The Royal Hospital, Chelsea. London. 25 June 2014.
Dame Fiona Shackleton and Ian Shackleton.Tom Ford.
Anish Kapoor, Nicholas Logsdail, and Sophie Walker.
Collectors, curators, and designers are drawn there for the astonishing diversity of material. More than 150 international dealers present 3000 years worth of art history from antiquity to contemporary. Jewelry lovers will be enticed by eye-popping gems big and small. And sales are popping too.  

Art is everywhere. Even before entering the elegant premises visitors are greeted with an exhibition of large scale sculpture by Philip King.
Inside the fair.
Tomasso Brothers Fine Art, Leeds & London.
Ursus Books Ltd. New York, NY.
Röbbig Munich, Germany.
Among the art set perusing the aisles were Hilary and Wilbur Ross, Gabrielle and Louis Bacon, Audrey Gruss, Kim Heirston-Evans,  Ellie Cullman, Scott Snyder, Martyn Lawrence Bullard ,Coco and Arie Kopelman, Iris and Ryan Erenstein, Natascha Abensperg und Traun, Natalie Abensperg und Traun, Natalie Langner, Eva Maria O'Neill, Rod Stewart  J.F. Courville, Tim Knox, Jeffrey Munger, Martin Chapman, Mitchell Owens, Miguel Flores Vianna, Susan Palmer, Amanda Dunsmore, Caroline Collier, Heather Kenzner, Nazy Vassegh, Philip Hewat Jaboor, Tom Ford, Charles Saatchi, Jay Jopling, Bruce Eichner, Elizabeth Saltzman, Jane Churchill, Frank DeBiasi, Elizabeth Estev, Sir Benjamin,Thomas Savage, Patrick Gallagher, Christine  Schwarzman, Gary Tinterow, Patrick Legrand, Princess  Ira von Furstenberg, and Princess Firyal of Jordan.
Ellie Cullman, Philip Hewat-Jaboor, and Nazy Vassegh.
Rene Sattler with Ginta Siceva and Bogdana Kondrashina.
Sir Stuart Rose.
Milana Abensperg Und Traun and Countess Natascha Abensperg Und Traun.Elizabeth Saltzman and Charley Gloerfelt.
Artist Sue Webster Of Noble and Webster With Rosanna Le May.
Tim Jefferies and Edmondo Di Robiland.
Lara Ross and Bruce Eichner.
Viscount Windsor and Viscountess Windsor.
Eva Lanska.Oscar Humphries.
Sir Benjamin Slade and Marilyn Galsworthy.
Mia and Eva Fahler.Meredith Ostrom and Elisabeth Esteve.
Della Howard and Howard Hodgkin.
Sir Howard Hodgkin and Antony Peattie.Rosanna Le May and Sir Benjamin Slade.
Countess Christine Camerana and Ana Cristina Alverado.
Kim Heirston-Evans and Audrey Gruss.
Georgina Russell and Viscount David Linley.
James Stunt.
Lady Swire, David Ker, Simon Dickinson, and Sir Adrian Swire around a sculpture by Elisabeth Frink.
Hilary and Wilbur Ross.
Prof David Khalili.Jay Jopling.
Artists drawing at Jaeger - LeCoultre stand at Masterpiece 2014 London.
Natalie Abensberg und Traun, Natalie Langner, Kim Heirston-Evans, Eva Maria O'Neill, and Natascha Abensburg Und Traun.
Ivor Braka.Zarya Austin-Fell and Jeremy Kent.
Penny Lancaster and Rod Stewart.
Louis and Gabrielle Bacon with David Ker.
Mrs. Martin Summers.Lizzie Cundy and friends.
Heather Kezner and Nazy Vassegh.
Oisin Byrne, Jasper Conran, and Robin Woodhouse.
The Erensteins.
 

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In the Presence of Presidential Candidates

June 30, 2014, 7:10 am
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Following a cab down 7th Avenue. 8:30 PM. Photo: JH.
Monday, June 30, 2014. Another beautiful, sunny weekend in New York. Daytime temperatures in the low to mid-80s, nighttime in the low to mid-70s; little humidity. On Friday there were big clouds as if portending rain. But no, just grandeur passing by above. On Sunday, there were few boats passing by on my watch (early afternoon).
Friday afternoon around six, looking northeast, standing on the corner of 83rd and East End Avenue. It looked "historic" to me.
In the last year or so, I find myself more and more drawn to looking at the clouds. I see so much drama and music in them on certain days in the city. On this day there were lots of blue skies occasionally above with these masses of clouds moving through. This was taken on the corner of 82nd Street and Amsterdam Avenue about 2:45 p.m.
Waiting for the light at Central Park West and 81st Street to enter the transverse through the Park to Fifth Avenue and 79th Street.
Madison Avenue and 79th Street, waiting for the light to change. I've been on this corner maybe a thousand times or more in my life since I've always lived in the neighborhood. And when I'm waiting for a light to change, and I look around, whenever I take notice of that apartment building, I'm reminded that David Merrick, the great Broadway producer of the '50s and '60s, lived there. That bit of detail is an example of how I relate to so much of what I see in the city especially under the great light that these photos show.
Park Avenue and 79th Street, around 3 p.m.
Sunday afternoon around 1 p.m., the river was quiet of traffic. A large oil tanker was moving through heading out to the Long Island Sound; a lone sailboat was cruising south; a lone motor cruiser decided not to head south and turned around; a jet skier was following. Along came a NY Waterway taxi (empty) heading north ...
A weekend in New York. Smell the roses. Wow. 15 of them for 12 bucks at the Grace's Market stand on 72nd and Third. They've been here for four days and every time I'm around them, I'm amazed at and awed by the fragrance in my dog house. The dogs are amazed too.
The things you learn; (or forget). Sunday afternoon I was reading something about Los Angeles, and I came upon a name of a man who had the same last name of woman I knew out there. Curious to know if there were a connection between her and this man’s name, I Googled her. Among the links that came up was a Diary from exactly seven and a half years ago. (The woman whose name I was looking up, I learned, had been married to the man.)

Over the years I’ve published so many Diaries on the NYSD that I’ve forgotten about most/almost all of them. Coming upon one of several years ago that I'd forgotten about, is like a surprise. Re-reading this one, I was amazed how timely it was — and is — and decided to run it again. Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose.
First published on January 30, 2007: In the Presence of Presidential Candidates.Reflections on having been in the presence of the men (and woman) who have run for (and sometimes won) the Presidency.

I’ve known many people who in their lifetimes have had close relationships with Presidents both political and social from Herbert Hoover on. Senator Hillary Clinton’s running for President reminded me of my own history of physical proximity to Presidential candidates over the years, although I personally have never known a sitting President. Nevertheless, like a lot of Americans I remain at least slightly in awe of the Man in the Office whoever he (or she) may be.
"The Caroline," John F. Kennedy's campaign plane.
The first time I ever saw a Presidential candidate up close was John F. Kennedy (a foot away) in Lewiston, Maine in October 1960. He was making a quick tour of New England (on his campaign plane, “The Caroline”— I think it was a CV-240 — which belonged to his father. A bunch of us had driven down from Colby College in Waterville on that cold October night to catch a view. He was originally expected about 9 p.m., but arrived well after midnight. The long delay of his arrival only increased the excitement and anticipation.
Senator Kennedy delivering a speech during his 1960 presidential bid.
I was thisfar from him as he passed through the crowd clamoring to get a look at him. He looked repulsed and terrified by the almost crushing mass of humanity as it was cleared so that he could make his way to the platform for a speech. That was my first glimpse into the rigors of Presidential campaigning for any candidate.
JFK making an appearance with Eleanor Roosevelt in New York during his 1960 campaign for president (United States Information Agency).
I never saw Richard Nixon, in or out of office. I’ve known quite a few people who knew him at different times, before and after he occupied the White House.

Although he left office in disgrace, he is recalled by nearly everyone (both Republican and Democrat, liberal and conservative) with a certain amount of affection, and as a paradoxically sympathetic character. I can understand that having witnessed (along with hundreds of millions) his farewell words, especially when he mentioned his mother Hannah Nixon. “No one ever wrote a book about my mother…” he said, his eyes welling up.  (Someone had just published a biography of Rose Kennedy.) “My mother was a saint,” he stated in bittersweet memory, tears brimming, hands grasping tightly the sides of the podium. I thought to myself, there’s the story -- just like many of the rest of us. Mother. Many of us watching cried right along with Mr. Nixon.
Nixon announcing the release of edited transcripts of the Watergate tapes, April 29, 1974.
I saw George McGovern once, in 1972 in North Stamford, Connecticut, also in October, in front of the house of a wealthy fragrance executive named Richard Salomon. Candidate McGovern was appearing at a small private fundraiser. It was a rainy early evening with an ominous and damp autumn chill in the air.

The senator looked worn almost ragged with fatigue, shoulders hunched, almost trudging along the stone walk, his hands deep in his trench coat pockets. His defeat was already a foregone conclusion, and I wondered how the man bore the palpable burden. I admired him, as I do now.  There was something about him that reminded me of my own father, who didn’t like him and voted for Nixon.
George McGovern during his 1972 presidential campaign.
I never saw Jimmy Carter until the mid-1990s when his Presidency had long since past. It was at a dinner party at Alice Mason’s apartment here in New York. Mrs. Mason was famous (especially among the famous) for her dinner parties with guest lists jammed with the rich, the powerful and the media-influential. 

Although he had been president, with a famous name and famous voice, his demeanor was modest, although  confident and dignified. He spoke to you very directly and kindly. That night at Mrs. Mason’s, during the dinner (there were sixty present), he talked about all the small wars that were going on (more than 70) all over the world, wars we never hear about or read about. And most horrifying was the fact that the majority of the victims were women and children. And even worse was the fact that children were being armed for warfare. Mr. Carter’s cause was to come to the aid of its victims, to find solutions to end these wars.

I’ve met Mr. Carter and his wife Rosalyn a couple of times since then, the last time being a reception at Sherrell and Muffie Potter Aston’s several years ago where I had the chance to engage him briefly in conversation. It is quite a trip to talk to a man who has been President. I am very familiar with the maligning of Jimmy Carter especially those who referred to him as “stupid.” He is not stupid.
Jimmy Carter and DPC.
Reflections on Candidate Reagan. In December 1979, having recently moved to Los Angeles, I was invited last minute, as an extra man to a large dinner dance given upstairs at the Bistro restaurant in Beverly Hills by a woman named Lorena Nidorf. Mrs. Nidorf, who was the second wife and widow of Louis B. Mayer of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, gave this dinner every year and her guest list included many famous Hollywood stars and luminaries including several screen legends like Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, Fred McMurray, Alice Faye, Jack Lemmon and Felicia Farr, Frank and Barbara Sinatra, Natalie Wood and RJ Wagner, Tony Martin and Cyd Charisse, Billy and Audrey Wilder, Ardie and Harriet Deutsch, Janet and Freddie DeCordova, Jimmy and Gloria Stewart, as well as many prominent Los Angelenos who were about to become more prominent with the election to the Presidency of their man: Ronald Reagan.

A portrait of Dorothy Chandler, the doyenne of the Los Angeles Times.
The evening was really glamorous and very impressive, although I had the distinction of being a complete stranger, knowing many of the famous faces but only from having seen them on the screen when I was a kid. So what was interesting was also somewhat awkward in feeling.

I noticed, however, that as guests arrived they made a beeline not for the hostess who was a very attractive and charming woman, but for a well-tanned, white-haired dowager wearing a pastel chiffon long dress and looking (in stature) like a Laguna Beach version of Eleanor Roosevelt. I recognized her: Dorothy Chandler, the doyenne of the Los Angeles Times which was then run by her son Otis, and before that by her husband Harry Chandler. Her name was on the concert hall of the Music Center that  she was credited with personally having raised the money to build.

And so, because I felt like a sore thumb sticking out in this glittery crowd, I planted myself, right next to, but with my back to, Mrs. Chandler. That way I could hear whatever homage was being paid by her stellar peers.

In short time, Ronald and Nancy Reagan arrived to say hello. Mr. Reagan had been one of my favorite movie stars when I was a kid, and so it was a treat to see that still familiar face. His cheeks were rosy, his full head of hair the color it might have been at 21 but not at 51 (without assistance that is), and a not quite imperceptible bobbing of his head as he spoke, belying his youthful face. Mrs. Reagan was a diminutive woman, friendly but quiet when her husband spoke.

There had been an editorial in the LA Times earlier that week that he was probably going to announce his candidacy for the Presidency. With that in mind, and considering it was the closest I was ever going to get to a Presidential candidate that year, I moved (backed) in closer to Mrs. Chandler’s back, so that I could eavesdrop.
Ronald and Nancy Reagan arrive in 1978.
It so happened that that day in the Times, there was an editorial disapproving of Jimmy Carter’s unwillingness to let the very ill (and country-less) Shah of Iran enter the United States for medical treatment because of the Hostage Situation.

“I agree with your editorial,”Mr. Reagan told Mrs. Chandler who graciously noted his opinion. However, their ensuing conversation was remarkably, even alarmingly ordinary, like two straphangers passing opinions on a Broadway bus.  I remember thinking that Mr Reagan’s chances of winning the election of 1980 were non-existent. Obviously, I was not equipped with the perspicacity to know an important lesson, embodied by Ronald Reagan, awaited us.
Ronald Reagan on his presidential campaign, 1979.
In retrospect, this man from Hollywood was perfect casting for the role. And he demonstrated that right into the final years of his second term when his condition had already begun to deteriorate noticeably.  Although he had never achieved the movie stardom of his friend Jimmy Stewart, or Mr. Grant, or Mr. Astaire – something he was deeply competitive and ambitious enough to seek – he was every bit as professional as they. And, it turned out, maybe even more than any of those whose stardom he never quite achieved in Hollywood.

A thorough professional, first as an actor and then as a politician, Ronald Reagan turned out to be the man to define an era of 20th century America, as his hero, Franklin Roosevelt had done in Reagan’s youth. He's a “gent” in movie terms, always reminding me of my “rich” uncle who was a contemporary of Reagan’s. Resolutely charming and fair (his version). I liked my uncle and admired his business success.

Ronald Reagan in a scene from "Law and Order," 1953.
Nancy and Ronald Reagan, unlike many who came before and after to occupy the White House maintained the same friendships before, during and after their occupancy. It was a “special” group, of course, many of whom were the original backers of candidate Reagan when he began his political career.

They treated their man with respect but they also told him what they thought. The differences were minor, however. And in their presence he remained the congenial friend who shared their sentiments and shared his national glory.

Shortly after he returned to private life there was a dinner given for the Reagans by their longtime California friends, welcoming them home. At the table, one of the guests asked how he wished to be addressed since “Mr. President” is the formal title. Mr. Reagan answered by explaining that since they were all friends at that table, he wished to be addressed as one of them, with the name he always had: Ronnie.

I saw Bill Clinton up close less than a month before the election of 1992, when I was a guest of the late Dorothy Hirshon at a big fundraiser here in New York. Mrs. Hirshon, who had known, and been to the White House of every President since FDR, had a ringside table on this night, right next to the podium so we could get a good look.

Mr. Clinton was appearing that night with his running mate, Al Gore. It was my first time looking at a Presidential candidate who was younger than I. This defines change in perception, political or otherwise.
Clinton and Gore, 1992.
He was wearing a grey suit, blue buttondown and red tie – a young banker/businessman’s sartorial image, and well-shined brown Bass Weejuns.  He was a good looking man, tall, slightly girthy, flushed cheeks, bright blue eyes and large but graceful, long, sensitive hands. And there was just a hint of a swagger to his gait as he made his way to the podium, reminding me of those guys on the varsity in college who strolled to class in muscle bound baby steps exuding self-confidence.

The governor from Arkansas leaned in casually as he spoke, resting his elbows on the podium, using his hands frequently and gracefully. His talk was intimate in style but substantive with a lot of facts, information and ideas. He was not a dynamic, inspiring speaker like his idol Mr. Kennedy, but he was clear and articulate like a very good (and cool) professor.

Bill Clinton surrounded in 2007.
I never got to shake his hand or have a word with him and I never saw him again in all the eight years he was in office. I did have the opportunity to shake his hand at a private dinner given for him three years ago here in New York.

There he was besieged by admirers who were as exuberant as a crowd of movie fans, a situation which he clearly was very familiar with and rather enjoyed. Although he seemed very outgoing (just from watching him in this private situation), I never had the opportunity to have a word with him nor did he seem (“feel”) accessible to these eyes. His wife, who was not present that night, was already the junior senator from New York and I had met her more than once. 

Which brings me to the Presidential candidate I have met more than any others in my lifetime, and with whom I’ve had the privilege of brief but revealing conversations, Hillary Clinton.

I met her when she was first running for the Senate also at the home of Alice Mason, at a fundraising reception with 20 or 30 people. On meeting, Mrs. Clinton is a very personable woman, and very accessible (for a high profile politician). She makes an effort to be friendly and responsive to everyone around her. If it is forced, it’s as good as Ronald Reagan. It is a graciousness, albeit serious in approach. I have heard from sources who consider themselves reliable that the polish is not always on that apple, but I have never seen an inkling of that.
Caroline Kennedy and Hillary Clinton when Clinton was running for Senate in 2000.
She always reminds me of those girls I knew in grade school who were the “smart ones” -- the ones who always had their hand up and waving first when the teacher asked a question having to do with last night’s homework. Straight “A’s,” straightshooting effortlessly brainy. Almost too perfect to begin with, they can be annoying and often develop an accumulating sense of moral rightness that runs the serious risk of being a know-it-all.

Since that first meeting, however, when I was impressed (although not blown away) by her brittle but girlish charm, I have seen her a number of times -- at cocktail receptions, fund-raisers, charity benefits and even at Michael’s restaurant. She has also seen me enough so that she recognizes my face and always has a warm hello, and sometimes a brief conversation. The words she consistently demonstrates in these circumstances are “considerate” and “smart.”

DPC with the candidate for the US Senate at a fundraiser for her campaign.
At one fundraiser early last year here in New York, I had the opportunity to ask her about her stand on Iraq. I worded my question carefully to politely soften the appearance of confrontation, acknowledging our experience (as contemporaries) of the Viet Nam War and what came after that including the downfall of Richard Nixon’s Presidency. I also told her that I believed the “war” in Iraq was a very dangerous choice or error, and I wondered what she thought. Her answer lacked her characteristic directness and was so circuitous that it lost me: I can’t remember what she said.

That disappointed me personally, although I am not one who believes any candidate of any party owes me an opinion that matches mine. However, Mrs. Clinton as Senator has not disappointed many of her constituents because she seems to be one of those politicians who works very hard at getting things done. Like that homework. It is a quality in very short supply no matter where we go in life. And yet crucial when it comes to progressing and moving forward.

So now it is very interesting to this writer to observe the path and the progress of this woman who might become our first woman president. I do hear detractors everywhere. And they come in all shapes, sizes and social stratas. I hear how she’s “too ambitious,” how she “can’t be trusted,” how they “just don’t like her/hate her/can’t stand her.”  And then I hear from those who, like me, have shared her company (at least in public):

“Have you ever met her?” my friend Peter Rogers once challenged a lunch partner who was exclaiming her loathing for the Senator.

Liz Smith (who happens to be a good friend of Peter Rogers') with Hillary in 2005.
“No,” was the reply.

“Well, I used to feel the same way you do,” he said, “but then I met her. And now I love her. She’s wonderful.”  Mr. Rogers is not by habit a man of wavering opinions although he is forthright and certain about what he thinks.

In other words, in her company, it is impossible not to like her. She’s a good looking woman; looks you in the eye but in an easy way, as someone who seems genuinely curious. She makes the effort to be gracious. She speaks often without notes and substantively, about many subjects, as you would expect of an intelligent, well-informed woman. She’s respectful of those around her, at least by her manner and words. She’s prepared, that kid in fifth grade you sometimes couldn’t stand for always acing the test with the effort it takes to drink a glass of water.

However, we know she’s always been one of those women who get things done. In many of our life experiences that woman is called Mother, the same woman Richard Nixon was referring to in reminiscing about his once held triumph (as President). Mother.

In today’s world Hillary Clinton, like the rest of us, dwells in an environment that is often vicious in the public arena, a free-for-all in verbal abusiveness. The American people, if media is to be believed, like this sort of thing at times. I don’t. I know a lot of other people who don’t also.

I hear, and this is strictly hearsay, tho oft-repeated that Hillary who is very organized and industrious in carrying out her responsibilities, can be a real yeller and have fits of temper. When, I don’t know. And why, I can’t say. My father was like that, although not organized or industrious in carrying out his responsibilities. I can be like that too, as can many of us.
Bill and Hillary, January, 2014.
As far as really knowing the woman the way you might know a friend, we are almost all at a disadvantage. Befriending people seeking or in power is not the same as befriending another person. They are never “another person,” or even, in fact, “a person” because everything they pursue has to do with the acquisition of political power.

Political power excludes. It is frequently the territory of sycophants and “handlers” often known as staff and advisers. In modern 21st century America it is also a road to isolation. Like the rest of us, they ride around, separated from each other, in cars; and worse in cavalcades of black cars with black tinted windows, shielding them from the nameless, faceless, baseless us. The corridors of power are powers of exclusivity where decisions are based on accessibility and the populace is generally regarded as a demographic with neither personality, intelligence or soul.

For those who seek its proximity, power can be an aphrodisiac, or as deluding as the strongest palliative. Or it can be an instrument of well-being. When it comes to a Presidential candidate, I can see they can only be who they are and who they always have been.
Hillary, June 2014.
 

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Beauty and life

July 2, 2014, 6:54 am
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Looking south along 6th Avenue and 12th Street towards One World Trade center. 2:30 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014. Very hot and humid, yesterday in New York, with dark clouds moving in late afternoon hinting of rain. Nada.

The city is noticeably quieter (you could tell by the lighter mid-town traffic on the cross-streets and on Fifth Avenue). Summer is here. No doubt by tonight, it will be even quieter, for this is one of the few weekends where anybody who can get out of town usually does.

I doesn’t. Me and the d’s -- and with old friends and good books -- will be celebrating by watching the fireworks down by the river and otherwise taking it easy.

Jackie and Rod Drake.
Yesterday afternoon in the Episcopal Chapel at the General Theological Seminary on 440 West 21st Street between 9th and 10th Avenues, about 300 New Yorkers and family attended and grieved, at a Memorial Service for Rodman Drake who passed away on Monday night a week ago (June 23rd). Rod was 71, a member of the financial community, father, animal lover and the husband of Jacqueline Weld Drake, had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer this past January. He was a very very well liked man, a kind man who liked people and  who made friends and kept them. He will be missed by many.

Elements. In one of my Diaries last month, I commented (not for the first time) on the “heavenly pear trees” that bloom in the Springtime “that someone was inspired to plant on the streets of New York 30 or so years ago.” I had moved from New York (and Connecticut) to Los Angeles during that time, and was surprised when I returned in 1992 to see them flowering the following Spring. They are very effective in calming and adjusting the mood of us harried New Yorkers living in the thick of the daily rush.

Last week, I got a letter (in the mail) about that “someone who inspired” from Margaret Ternes, who for many years has been involved in running the Park Avenue Malls Planting Project as well as the Park Avenue Holiday Lighting, and the Salute to the Seasons Fund, Inc.:

Dear DPC:

Mrs. Lasker thought Second Avenue was ‘dreary,’ so in went pear trees from 40th to 86th Streets. The following year (and I don’t know exactly what the year was), but sometime in the early 80s (which is when I started working with her) came Third Avenue, the West Side Highway (especially the exits: 79th and 95th). Lastly I was able to finish up on Madison Avenue.

Of course many property owners liked the look as well as we do which brought the pears to many side streets.

Another interesting Lasker initiative is the flower plantings in the tree pits. With trees, New York is now leading the way. We will get larger tree pits (see 895 Park Avenue).”
The pears on East End Avenue in front of the Henderson Place houses between 86th and 87th Street.
And a a side street in the West Village.
The malls along Park Avenue this Spring.
Watering a flower pit on Park Avenue.
There are many New Yorkers now who do not know about Mary Lasker (who died in 1994 at age 94), although she was famous from the 1940s right up to the end of the 20th century for her beautification projects (especially the Park Avenue malls), and across the world for her huge philanthropic work having to do mainly (but not exclusively) with health issues.

Born in Mary Woodard in Watertown, Wisconsin in 1900, the daughter of a banker and a mother who was active in civic affairs, she attended the University of Wisconsin at Madison and graduated from Radcliffe where she majored in Art History, and later studied briefly at Oxford. After college she married and settled in New York, working as an art dealer as well as collector. During the Great Depression, she launched a successful dress pattern company. She was naturally enterprising and naturally ambitious.
Mary Lasker with her horses in the 1940s.
In 1940, divorced from her first husband, she married Albert Lasker, an advertising executive who ran the firm Lord & Thomas, renowned in the world under his direction. He was a distinguished individual in the public eye, known in his day as the founder of modern advertising. Mr. Lasker’s clients were famous for their catchy slogans (such as “L.S.M.F.T./Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco,” “Ask the man who owns one…” (Packard cars); turning clients’ products into household words such as the aforementioned as well as  Palmolive Soap, Coca-Cola, Kotex, Pepsodent Toothpaste.

Albert and Mary Lasker.
Albert Lasker and Warren G. Harding.
Very much the creative entrepreneur, Albert Lasker, a young man from Galveston, Texas who joined the Lord & Thomas firm in Chicago in 1898, believed that advertising was news. His presentation technique was simple: a slogan. He called it “salesmanship in print.” It was innovative. He helped create the popularity of orange juice in this country when in 1908 he acquired the Sunkist Growers ad account.

The citrus industry had been in a long slump. Growers in California were producing so many oranges that they couldn’t sell them all and were actually cutting down trees to limit supply. The Lasker (Lord & Thomas) ad campaigns encouraged people to eat oranges and also to drink orange juice, and soon increased business to the point where they were no longer eliminating trees.

It was Albert Lasker who first applied advertising technique to sell political candidates (he was a Republican). His advice to the Warren G. Harding campaign in 1920 (using newsreels, billboards and newspaper ads) led to a landslide for Harding, and Lasker’s appointment to chairman of the United States Shipping Board. He was only the third man of Jewish descent ever appointed to such a high post in the Federal Government.

Having already acquired ownership in Lord & Thomas, he was also an early owner of the Chicago Cubs and created the  “Lasker Plan,” a report which led to the creation of the Commissioner of Baseball.  When he was 62, he sold Lord & Thomas to three of his senior executives who changed the name to theirs: Foote, Cone & Belding.
Mary Lasker on her living room sofa, ca. mid 1950s.
Mary Lasker in front of a Monet from her personal collection, ca. mid 1960s.
When Albert Lasker met Mary Woodard in 1938, he met an equally ambitious, innovative and creative woman. She was president of the Birth Control Federation of America– now known as Planned Parenthood. He was impressed by her philanthropic thinking. They evolved into partnership and married in 1940. Two years later, they created the Lasker Foundation to promote medical research. Today, the Lasker Award is considered the most prestigious of its kind in medical research. Eighty-one of its laureates have gone on to receive a Nobel.

The couple involved themselves in what was then known as the American Society for the Control of Cancer at a time when the word itself was rarely mentioned in ordinary conversation, people were so terrified of it. Together the Laskers restructured the organization, changed the board, began advertising and promoting fighting cancer as well as raising record amounts of money, directing a large percentage of it to medical research. The organization took on a new name also: The American Cancer Society.
Mary Lasker at the first meeting of the National Cancer Advisory Board at the National Cancer Institute, March 20-22, 1972.
In those early days of their marriage, during the administration of President Truman, the Laskers were promoting a “National Health Insurance” -- which was only prescient but not created.

In 1952, Albert Lasker died at age 72,  himself a victim of colon cancer. After her husband’s death, Mrs. Lasker’s philanthropic work grew. She had a major influence in promoting the National Institute of Health (NIH), and had a major effect on the expansion of its annual budget from $2.4 million in 1945 to $5.5 billion in1985.
Mary Lasker with Bob Hope and Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Martino at the ACP Humanitarian Award Dinner, 1965.
Mary Lasker, Lady Bird Johnson, and Michael DeBakey at the 1983 Lasker Medical Research Awards luncheon, 1983.
Her politics moved on, and in 1960 she encouraged her friend Eleanor Roosevelt to endorse Senator Lyndon Johnson for the Presidency. That connection later led to Mrs. Lasker’s assisting Mrs. Johnson with her highway beautification projects all over the country. She also gave  tens of thousands of daffodil bulbs for the roadside of the parkways along the Potomac as well as the thousands of azalea bushes and flowering dogwoods along Pennsylvania Avenue.

My NYSD reader, Marge Ternes recalled that in the 1950s, when Mary Lasker met Robert Moses, arguably the most powerful individual in New York City government in those years,  who was in the midst of re-designing the city’s traffic system and public spaces, she lobbied him to plant something that bloomed along the malls of Park Avenue that covered the railroad tracks. At the time, the malls were covered with shrubs.
Mary Lasker at tree planting ceremony with New York City Mayor Robert Wagner, ca. 1960.
Mr. Moses didn’t like the idea. “Don’t be foolish,” he admonished the lady, adding “It’s too dirty and too dark. Flowers will never grow there.”

Mrs. Lasker took a bargaining tack: “If I pay to plant 20 blocks, and the flowers are successful, you pay afterwards.”

“We’ll match you 2-to-1,” Mr. Moses countered, underscoring his doubts.

Marge Ternes, who first met Mary Lasker back then, and later worked on some of her projects recalled: “She had a lot of money and a lot of will, and a lot of charm. It was a rather unbeatable combination.”
Mary, front and center, with the Albert Lasker Medical Awards Jury, 1989.
As time moved on Mary Lasker’s philanthropy moved with it. Besides her fund-raising for the NIH and cancer, she became involved in raising money for AIDS. She took Elizabeth Taylor to lobby Congress, advising the star: “Be sure to wear a low neckline.”

I had the privilege of meeting Mrs. Lasker in the early 80s. I had known about her beautification project along Park Avenue and about her great medical research foundation and the prestige of that award. She had a stature that was both stylish and far-thinking in the public consciousness. She was highly respected. She used to rent a house in Beverly Hills for six weeks in the dead of New York winter. Edie Goetz, the eldest daughter of L.B. Mayer, who in her prime was the empress of filmland society, and also had an intense interest in medical research befriended Mrs. Lasker, who was often a guest at her dinners.

Mary Lasker and Hillary Clinton at the 1993 Lasker Awards luncheon.
Then in her early 80s, she still cut a glamorous figure. Women dressed for the Goetz dinners – long dresses, jewels, etc. (men: dark suits). On one such night, there were six of us at a smaller table in the bay of the dining room (with its Fantin Latour, Bonnard, Degas, Modigliani, Manet and Picasso paintings surrounding us in a brightly candlelit space -- our hostess, Mrs. Lasker, Fred and Robyn Astaire, Luis Estevez and myself.

After the dinner we adjourned to the living room where, after everyone was comfortably seated on sofa or chair, an 16 foot wide screen descended from ceiling to floor, the room began to dim, while symphonic music swelled until dark, and the film began. It was Harold Pinter’s"Betrayal" with Jeremy Irons. It was pre-release (Mrs. Goetz “heritage” in Hollywood retained her relationship with the studios and had access).

The mood and environment of the film was in stark contrast to the crew in Mrs. Goetz’ living room that night surrounded by more of her Picassos, Monets, Manets, Soutines, etc. Mrs. Lasker, who was gracious and bejeweled in ruffled black taffeta Oscar de la Renta seemed mainly – like the rest of us – fascinated to be dining with Mr. Astaire – whose classic bearing was as modest as it was stylish -- and watching a Pinteresque moment in contemporary Anything Goes London. What/where is reality, I recall thinking.

All this, inspired by Mary Lasker’s sense of beauty and life.
Mary Lasker's CV: Presidential Medal of Freedom, 1969, French Legion of Honor, 1984, Congressional Gold Medal, 1989, American Cancer Society, Birth Control Federation of America. Secretary; Cancer Research Institute, Trustee; Kennedy Center, Board of Directors, Lasker Foundation, co-founder and President 1942-1994; Museum of Modern Art, Trustee; National Cancer Institute, Norton Simon Museum; boards, Planned Parenthood, Vice President; Research to Prevent Blindness, Trustee; National Committee for Mentla Hygiene; United Cerebral Palsy Research and Education Foundation.
 

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"Real Feel"

July 3, 2014, 7:17 am
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Upper West Side sky. 4:48 PM. Photo: JH.
July 3, 2014. It was very hot and humid, yesterday in New York, sun out with a “Real Feel” of 103 by early afternoon. But by late afternoon the breezes picked up and the dark clouds moved in from the southwest on their way to the Bay of Fundy. Then thunder, then lightning, and finally torrent blowing in, cooling the city and its inhabitants. It  rained for the better part of an hour. Flash flood warnings  followed in the entire metropolitan area.
East 83rd Street and East End Avenue looking west toward the approaching storm and east to Roosevelt Island and the calm awaiting, about 7 p.m.
The same view about 7:45 p.m., and looking northwest after the first rainfall about 8 p.m.
Over on the Upper West Side, JH was also keeping an eye over the sky above the Hudson. 4:40 PM.
4:41 PM.
4:42 PM.
4:51 PM.
4:54 PM.
6:10 PM.
6:31 PM.
7:12 PM.
7:13 PM.
7:15 PM.
7:27 PM.
I went down to Michael’s for lunch not because it was Wednesday, because any day before a long holiday weekend is a loss. I went to lunch with Brooke Hayward, who came in from Connecticut, and Alex Hitz, who is just back from L.A. It was also to celebrate Brooke’s birthday, which is this coming Saturday, the 5th of July. We didn’t tell Brooke that until Steve Millington came out with a scoop of ice cream and berries (and something else…??...) and a single candle. She asked me to help her blow it out. We didn’t sing “Happy Birthday” though. Brooke wasn’t interested.
DPC and Alex Hitz about to help Brooke Hayward blow out the candle on her "cake."
After that, she took us into the Ladies’ Room to see the photographs that her second husband Dennis Hopper took with a camera she gave him back in the early 1960s when they were living in L.A. On one of the walls was a photo portrait of a young Ed Ruscha, another of Jasper Johns. Everybody was in the bloom of youth. Ruscha was movie star handsome and the girls lined up.
Ed Ruscha by Dennis Hopper, 1964.
Paul Newman, 1964. Jasper Johns, 1964.
Wallace Berman, 1963.
There are photographs by Dennis in the Men’s Room also, including a headshot of a twenty-something Brooke wearing  a crown with a tag on it, looking like it was from some costume house out there. There was also a photograph of David Hockney, Andy Warhol, Henry Geldzahler, and David Goodman coming out of a building.
Andy Warhol, Henry Geldzahler, David Hockney, and David Goodman, 1963.
Robert Rauschenberg with his tongue stamped "Wedding Souvenir, Claes Oldenburg" at Oldenburg's wedding, 1966.
Bruce Conner (in tub), Toni Basil, Teri Garr and Ann Marshall, 1965.
Otherwise it was a quiet Wednesday at Michael’s. Jill Fairchild and Jim Fallon, Executive Editor of WWD, with Jason Binn, publisher of DuJour. On the other side of us Euan Rellie was lunching with Tony Gellert, and behind them at table One was Dan Abrams with a very engaging lady.  Across the way, Catherine Saxton, the New York PR guru (Hiltons, Trumps, etc.), who moved from the Big Town to West Palm Beach and loves it. Next to her, PR consultant Judy Agisim and friends.  
The young Mr. Hopper and Ms. Hayward at the time of their marriage.
Mary Rodgers Guettel died last Thursday in her home in the Beresford on 81st and Central Park West. She was 83, born January 11, 1931. She started out life as one of the two daughters of Dorothy and Richard Rodgers, the great composer of American musicals and longtime collaborator of Lorenz Hart and later Oscar Hammerstein II.

The baby Mary Rodgers at the keyboard with her father, taken in Los Angeles where he was writing for the movies. In this picture she later related having no recollection of the gentleness in the man she knew as her father.
I can’t remember how I met her, or where I met her, around the turn of the century. I knew about her specifically because of the great PBS documentary on her father in which she participated. It provided an inside look into the life of the man whose personality away from the keyboard expressed a darker side. He was an alcoholic and a depressed individual. That couldn’t have bolstered the personality of a girl approaching womanhood.

We first had lunch at Michael’s. She was a short woman – probably no more than 5 three or four. She wore her darkening blonde hair that was well cut, in a Buster Brown soft of profile. No matter the age (by now she was in her late 60s, early 70s), she retained a girlish quality that gave her a youthful image, possibly even to herself; a pleasure to meet.

It was a getting-to-know-you lunch. This was easy because Mary had a natural sense of intimacy. She was a person who liked people. Her smile that you see in her pictures is a bright one; and when in the room with her, it was a very warm, even affectionate one. In her company, she seemed like one of those people who had a lot of time to socialize. There was no: “I’ve got a 2:15 appointment ...” etc. And yet this was a woman who wrote books, wrote scripts, composed music, brought up two families, kept up copious friendships, had a decisive hand in the management of the Rodgers and Hammerstein archive (which brought in millions annually to the heirs), and devoted a lot of her time to Juilliard too.
Richard Rodgers and his daughter, the composer.
Although we were brand new “friends,” she told me about her life, her father, and her husbands. There was no hostility in her observations and memories. Yes, father worked at home – which might sound exciting to a fan. But he worked with his door open, so everyone had to be quiet a lot of the time. This was an inconvenience especially to a child or even a young energetic woman full of curiosity about herself and life.
Carol Burnett and Mary RG in a publicity photo of Mary's show which made Burnett a star: "Once Upon A Mattress."
She told me about her two marriages and why the first one didn’t work out.  None of this information was sought after, although I am a naturally curious individual so details that people share about easily themselves is always fascinating.  Most all of these details, no matter how dramatic they seem to the principals, and in the telling, still fall into that category of all-in-the-family to me (who grew up in a very dramatic – the nice word for it – family atmosphere).

Mary Rodgers Guettel (or Mary RG as she signed her letters) had a practical handle on all the dramatic personalities that she grew up with, but harbored no deep resentment of her circumstances or the difficulties they presented to the girl growing up.
Richard Rodgers, Dorothy Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein II, and Dorothy Hammerstein at the opening night of the film THE KING AND I, 1956.
It was revelatory to the viewer of the PBS docu who knew only about Richard Rodgers’ beautiful musical compositions to learn that he was difficult to live with and be around. The great man was revealed to be a very difficult number. It was well known in the theatrical community of his era that he “fooled around.” His marriage, however, remained intact. It was also known that he could be a taskmaster about the interpretation of his work.

Henry and Mary Rodgers Guettel.
Mary’s mother Dorothy Rodgers was a strong woman with her own creative works too, especially in the field of interior design in her own houses. She created two best selling books in the 1960s about these properties that she created. In person, she was a somewhat diffident yet gracious, chic looking woman of means with a natural elegance.

It must have been challenging for the daughter (and there were two, including Mary’s sister Linda) of Dorothy and Dick Rodgers to develop creatively and in terms of sociability. Nevertheless there were distinctive advantages, which she was never unaware of, for a girl who wanted to be in the same business in which her father was a giant. She pursued a professional career successfully as well as being a wife and mother. She’d also inherited her parents’ (especially her mother’s) emotional durability.

I think the charm of her lingering girlishness provided the mattress, if you will, to soften the harshness and hardships of Mary’s parents’ home life.  To these eyes, she never lost that quality. That first lunch, after the two of us “confided” our backgrounds and growing up to each other, Mary RG concluded: “oh why don’t we just go somewhere and neck!” I paid the check, she went back to her office, and I to my desk and keyboard. She will rest in peace.
Catching up in Paris. Word comes from Paris of the opening of an exhibition at the Hotel George V of Harry Benson’s photographs celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Beatles and Harry staying at the hotel in 1964 as Beatlemania broke out all over the world. The photographs were shown 15 feet high and were surrounded by masses of flowers created by Creative Director of the hotel, Jeff Leatham.

There was a party for 300 held in the hotel’a courtyard honoring Harry. From Los Angeles came Harry and Gigi Benson’s daughter Wendy and Michael Landes with Mimi and Dominic, and daughter Tessa Tooley with Tucker, Jr. as husband Tucker stayed in LA to put the finishing touches on his new film for Relativity, "Earth to Ecco" which opens Friday.
The Harry Benson exhibition of his Beatlemania pictures taken 50 years ago this year at the Hotel George V.
Friends who celebrated with Harry and Gigi include New Yorkers Brad and Amy Fine Collins with their lovely daughter Flora, Hamish Bowles, Susan Lloyd, Ambassador Brenda Johnson, Karl Wellner with his and Deborah Norville's lovely daughter, Mikaela, and Joan and Sandy Weill. The Palm Beach contingent: Kate Khosrovani, John Loring, Val Alexander, Susan Lloyd, Jonathan and Eileen Otto, Franklin and Emmy Haney straight from their boat docked in Copenhagen, and Bill and Regine Diamond.  Paris friends included fashion designer Emmanuelle Khanh and Regine of Regine's fame. Sergio Mendes entertained and the champagne flowed till well after midnight while the hotel's chef whipped up risotto on the spot!
Harry in the courtyard of the George V being interviewed about his experience catching the shot of the Beatles' famous hotel pillow fight.
 

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Hamptons Rewind

July 7, 2014, 3:18 pm
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Bridgehampton scene. Photo: JH.
Monday, July 7, 2014. Beautiful weather for the long holiday weekend in New York. Torrential rains on Thursday night flooded many of the city streets briefly, leaving a weekend of Sun, warm but not hot or humid temperatures, and a quiet city for those of us cave dwellers who remained in town.

A reader who must have been looking through our archives sent us an email about a Diary we wrote about the Hamptons four years ago. I'd completely forgotten about it, as had JH. This one tugged on old memories which made it particularly effective because it reminds how much the world of the Hamptons has changed over the last five decades ....

July 28, 2010. A warm summer day, yesterday in New York; sunny but not too humid followed by a warm but beautiful evening in the city.

Nostalgia and back to reality. Forty-five years ago, July 1965 to be exact. In Southampton, Angela Taylor writing for the New York Times, reported:

One-time Hampton residents Elaine Steinbeck and Mrs. John O'Hara (Katharine Barnes).
The summertime living is easy in the dune-bordered communities of eastern Long Island, but the colonists take their leisure in different ways. Southampton's life purrs as quietly as a Rolls-Royce among the middle-aged and older generations but roars like a Jaguar at night when the young get away from their parents and gyrate at a night spot called Mitty's General Store.

Less showy East Hampton has smaller houses and few decorators' shops. It seems to be populated by young marrieds who wear neat shorts or white ducks and walk its streets unself-consciously, because society photographers rarely stalk them.

.... Life settled down to shopping on Job's Lane and getting hair done at Elizabeth Arden's pink salon on Main Street in Southampton where Mrs. John O'Hara was being combed out at the same time that Mrs. John Steinbeck was being put up in rollers.

"We're living very quietly in a teeny-tiny house in Sag Harbor," Mrs. Steinbeck said as she offered a hand to the manicurist. "We don't go to parties, although we've been asked to one on a boat tonight ..."

I remember Mrs. Steinbeck – Elaine– although I didn't know her except to say hello. Mrs. O'Hara, I never met, although her husband was my favorite writer at that time in my life, and I knew they lived in Quogue on the beach.

The area was known by its individual towns, not so much the Hamptons. Each area had its own personality/demographic in terms of summer inhabitants. After the season the towns returned to their small town village-ness, run mainly by the small businessmen and big landowners, many of whom were farmers, especially potato farmers, some from families that had been working the land since the 17th century.

The summer residents opened up their houses around Memorial Day and closed them up after Labor Day until the following year. This was partly because of the access. The LIE got about as far as Patchogue by the early 60s, and then you were on two lane blacktop most of the rest of the way.

Truman Capote's saltbox home in Sagaponack.
There was also another year round community in the towns east and north of Southampton of writers and artists and their exponents in life style. The area in the colder weather had a semi-rural feeling, far away from the city's smells.

The artists and writers lived comforably but modestly no matter their prominence. Truman Capote had a simple beach house in Bridgehampton for years, which after his death was purchased by artist Ross Bleckner.

Real estate was cheap. That first summer I was out there in 1963 we rented a four-bedroom two-bath (and two-kitchen) house set south of the highway, just outside Southampton in the middle of a potato field. It was owned by famous men's fashion editor named Robert D. L. Green. The place slept eight comfortably, and the rent for Memorial through Labor Day was $1200. Total.
The Sagaponack home as Capote lived (via Architectural Digest).
A couple years later, I was a newlywed and we looked at a house near the beach in Southampton that was an old ark of a place with wrap-around porches and cupolas. It had been abandoned and was for sale for $35,000. Whoever had inherited it, wanted to dump it. That was a lot of money for a summer house then, but peanuts considering the property which today commands a price in the millions.

By the late 60s, as the LIE continued to move eastward, the summer populations grew and so did the real estate prices. Old time families east of Southampton were selling their acres of farmland for six figures. Newcomers tore down old houses and put up bigger ones.
Walking along the beach in Southampton.
A Hamptons mom and her child.
The world was changing rapidly. We had a housemate who had come back from working in Japan. He used to tell us that one day Japan was going to take over the car industry. This seemed a really absurd projection/prediction. At that time, Japan was just emerging in the field of technology and manufacturing little handheld transistor radios and very small, very cheap compact-style cars.

Americans looked at compacts as an insult. Wassamattuh, you can't afford a real car? Our housemate, we all kind of thought, was a dreamer. It turned out of course that he was; and the dream turned out to be reality. And the joke was on us. In some ways, it still is.
Southampton, 2006.
A fond memory is of the now long defunct Mitty's General Store, a very cool discotheque to go to on Saturday nights on the road to Bridgehampton.

I've described it here before (recently). From the outside it was a simple clapboard house with a simple front porch. Inside it was transformed: a spacious barroom with tables, crowded with 20-somethings and 30-somethings, (although I don't ever remember a line waiting to get in).

The dress was preppier than it is today in that the preppies always looked like preppies no matter what they were wearing even if it were a tee-shirt and jeans. That look, was archived by the then budding Ralph Lauren and revised into a billion-dollar business selling life-style known as Polo.
A young deer retreats into the fescue in Southampton.
Beyond the bar at Mitty's was a dining room of banquettes and tables, and beyond that was a big dance floor with a DJ spinning. Those were the years of the Frug which had progressed from the Bop, the Chicken and then the Twist. It was pre-drug era. If anyone were smoking anything (other than cigarettes), or snorting/sniffing, nobody knew. Cocaine was ancient lore, associated with the Prohibition and the 1930s. LSD was just about to come into the national psyche, and Cary Grant of all people admitted to experimenting with it. The prescription meds that morphed into "recreational" drugs didn't really get started until the early to mid-1970s.

Dancing the Chicken.
Dancing the Twist.
By the late 60s, the prices out East had jumped, just as they had for everything else around New York. We stayed in the city and eventually got the bright idea of going north to Westchester and Fairfield County for a getaway. The prices were better and the country life was year-round and appealing to 30-somethings settling down.

A few years later, in the late 70s, I moved West to Los Angeles and didn't return East until 1992. Twenty years past and twenty years older, the Hamptons was bigger and everywhere. Southampton still had its gilted "aura" although by that had been mottled by Big and More. It had gone from a summer beach town of woody buggies and barefoot kids in the sand to Money talks and Nobody walks.

That became our main theme. The Old Guard ignored it as long as they could; and the Newcomers, if they didn't meld, didn't care because they made their own groups. And then, eventually, ten years on, it turned out, the Old Guard were dead or practically, and the Newcomers were no longer new, but now the center.

There went the neighborhood. Out in East Hampton -- now a hike on the perpetual parking lot called Route 27 -- is a community bustling with commerce, and big SUVs and Mercedes and Bentleys and Broncos and Range Rovers lining the roads bumper to bumper. Movie stars live there. Movie directors. hedge fund owners, entrepreneurs, rich divorcees, tycoons and real estate moguls. It's a microcosm of the American very rich at the beginning of the new millennium. Their Old Guard has mostly died off although the Newcomers are fast becoming third generation. And Big and More remains a player.
Traffic to the Hamptons on a Friday afternoon.
The other day I was talking with a friend of mine who has had a house in East Hampton for the past couple of decades. I was telling her how the aforementioned Angela Taylor piece in the Times was evidence of how the stage had changed.

My friend is, like me, a big animal person. She had thanked me for reminding readers that dogs cannot take the heat, let alone exercising in it, and that it can kill them. We were lamenting that many people don't bother to learn about the health and safety of their Best Friend.
She told me a story about how one day out in East Hampton walking her dogs she found a beautiful Golden Retriever wandering around. She'd seen the dog a number of times in the middle of the village and was concerned about his safety because of all the cars.

One day she was able to get him by the collar which had a phone number on it. She took him home and called the number. Answering machine. She left a message. No return. The next day she called again. Answering machine. No return. The third time she left a message: "I have your dog. I found him wandering around the town. If you don't want him unfortunately I can't keep him so I'll have to take him to the Animal Rescue Fund (ARF)."
Hampton Hedgerows.
She got a call shortly thereafter. A man's voice. Angry. "How dare you leave a message like this," he ranted. "I don't give a sh*t about the dog," he raged, "I just don't want my wife upset about the dog going to ARF." He told her he was so angry for doing this to him and his wife that he'd see that my friend would "never have another happy day in your life," warning, "You'll never have another reason to smile."

That was a couple of years ago. This man, incidentally, is known professionally as an "entrepreneur" but is mainly in the banking business and is admired for the size of his fortune which fits neatly on the Forbes 400 list. He and the wife have since divorced. No one seems to know what happened to the dog.

Although, my friend told me, it still goes on. The other day she saw a woman driving a gray SUV, running her dog alongside her car as she drove down the road. Was it her plan to kill the dog, you might wonder? If you see her, report her. If you know her name, I'll print it.
 

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Captured

July 8, 2014, 6:57 am
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A Monday morning nap. 9:00 AM. Photo: JH.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014. Sunny and very warm in New York. Muggy too. Thunderstorms are forecast, and the weatherman says it will cool things off. Hot but not as punishing as it can be in the northeast at this time of the year. But 85 degrees at the time of this writing (Monday night, 10:45 p.m.).

Meanwhile, today we’re featuring an event that took place last Saturday in that perfect summer climate of Glendale, California at the Brand Library and Art Center, which marks the opening of the library’s newly renovated gallery with an important inaugural exhibition, Joan Quinn Captured.
The Library when it was first built as the private home of Leslie C. Brand at the beginning of the 20th century.
The Brand is part of the Glendale Public Library which celebrated its centennial seven years ago in 2007. It is housed in a mansion built in 1904 in the foothills overlooking Glendale and the San Fernando Valley. The mansion, which was named El Miradero, was built by Leslie C. Brand, a real estate developer best known for developing Glendale. The house has a design similar to the East Indian Pavilion built for the 1893 Columbian World Exposition in Chicago (which Mr. Brand visited). When Mr. Brand died in 1925, he bequeathed the mansion to the city of Glendale with the proviso that the property be used for a public park and library.

Today the Brand is an art and music library which includes 70,000 book titles,126 periodical subscriptions, a vast collection of compact discs, records, videos and DVDs, slides art prints and 200 piano rolls. It also houses the Art Gallery which features four exhibits a year of California artists, as well as a Recital Hall used for art and music events.
The Brand Library as it looks today.
Joan Quinn, the center of the current exhibition at the Brand, is a native Los Angeleno who has made a footprint in the art world, expecially in the art world of Los Angeles that is as historical as the Brand (albeit a lot younger – by about a century), and far better known in contemporary art. There isn’t an artist or collector in the West (and probably the East) who hasn’t met (and befriended), doesn’t know, or know about Ms. Quinn. A friend, supporter, an art maven extraordinare, she is a collector, connoisseur, writer, and personality whose interests encompass that world.

This exhibition – Joan Quinn Captured – is a reflection of that history. It was curated by Laura Whitcomb in collaboration with curators J. Cheryl Bookout and Joan’s daughter, Amanda Quinn Olivar. 
Joan Agajanian Quinn with portrait by Richard Bernstein.
The Quinn family: Jack Quinn, Amanda Quinn Olivar, John Olivar, Joan Quinn, Paloma Quinn Gowey, Jennifer Quinn Gowey, and Eric Gowey.
"Joan," says Ms. Whitcomb, "probably has the largest collection of non-commissioned portraits in the world. This group of portraits spans over 40 years, so it has been compelling to work with her and many of the artists who made these works." Whitcomb adds."Most artists who had never attempted portraiture rose to the challenge with interesting interpretations of the subject, Joan."

The curators displayed the style in which each artist typically works, alongside the portrait he or she had made. In the center of the gallery was a stylized mountain containing video screens which run Joan's art interviews as well as a steady stream of snaps from the '80s international culture scene.
Portraits of Joan Agajanian Quinn by Dora De Larios, Roberto Lizano, and Shepard Fairey.
Portraits by Richard Bernstein, George Hurrell, Chaz Guest, Eugene Pinkowski, Kevin Whitney, Zarko Kalmic, and Gregory Weir.
Portraits by Tony Berlant (Jack as a rooted tree & Joan as a whirlwind), Tadanori Yokoo, and Susi Cantarino.
Portraits by Allen Ruppersberg, Frank Gehry, and Billy Al Bengston.
December 1984 House & Garden magazine (photos by Helmut Newton — "Quinn Essential" — in display case).
Earlier in the evening last Saturday, critic/author Peter Frank and  J. Cheryl Bookout, President at Southern California Women's Caucus for Art,  co-chaired a panel consisting of artists Laddie John Dill, Tony Berlant and George Herms, who wrote an ode to Joan and Jack Quinn which was sung by Herms with his own arm banging accompaniment at the piano.
    
Native Californian, USC graduate, journalist and collector Joan Agajanian Quinn has been active in the local art scene for over decades. As a journalist, she has written for several art magazines, was appointed West Coast editor of Interview by Andy Warhol, and at one point enjoyed the position of society editor of the Hearst's L.A.. Herald-Examiner.  
The Panel — Moderator Peter Frank, Laddie John Dill, George Herms, Tony Berlant, and Moderator J. Cheryl Bookout.
George Herms singing and playing his Ode To Joan and Jack Quinn.
Quinn was also the longest sitting member of the California Arts Council nominated by then assembly speaker Willie Brown, and has served two terms on the Beverly Hills Arts Commission. She continues to sit on the board of the Armenian Museum in Boston and has for the last 12 years represented the Armenian International Women’s Association (AIWA) as an NGO to the United Nations.

Hundreds of friends, local politicians and a large contingent from the Armenian community attended the opening. Artists including Ed Moses, Matthew Rolston, Kaloust Guedel, Michel Chearney, Salomon Huerta, Dan McCleary, Emmanuel Galvez, James Morphesis, Kristina Hagman, Woods Davy, Don Bachardy, Wayne Shimabukuro, Sharon Weiner, Zareh, Stephen Jerrome, Sarah Newby, besides panelists Berlant, Dill and Herms, mingled in the gallery and in the patio where buffet tables surrounded the newly installed 20 ft. vertical Woods Davy sculpture. 
Kaloust Guedel in front of Chuck Arnoldi's early '70s Cats Cradle.
Herair and Lori Garboushian (from Garboushian Gallery, Beverly Hills CA) viewing Dora De Larios' early 1960s Queen Joan.
Fredell Pogodin viewing portrait and historic 1966 Dento by Billy Al Bengston.
This exhibition celebrates Joan Agajanian Quinn's life and contributions to art and culture by presenting 60 images of her in a varied array of media selected from a collection of over 300 portraits. The works shown are made by Joan and Jack's friends including: Zandra Rhodes, Frank Gehry, Claire Falkenstein, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Billy Al Bengston, Beatrice Wood, Mel Ramos, Arthur Tress,  Joe Goode, Helmut Newton, Robert Graham, Ed Ruscha and Robert Mapplethorpe to name but a few. The portraits provide a link to the vibrant art scene in Los Angeles and around the world from the 1960s through today, giving a glimpse into friendships established and maintained over the years. 
     
Joan Quinn Captured focuses on the artists and friendships of Joan and Jack Quinn and includes an extended film forum with public panel discussions taking place at The Brand Art Center Recital Hall through August 1, 2014.
Amanda Quinn Olivar with Jennifer Quinn Gowey and Paloma Quinn Gowey in front of portrait by Lucie Abdalian.
Exhibit curator J. Cheryl Bookout, exhibit curator Amanda Quinn Olivar, gallery director Annette Vartanian, and exhibit curator Laura Whitcomb.
Laura Whitcomb and Kathleen Davy.
Vishnu, of the Steven Arnold Foundation, with Zareh.
LACMA curator Leslie Jones, Marya Dosti, and curator Robert Dean.
Darlene Medve, Jennifer Quinn Gowey, and Julia Perry.
Photographer Gregory Firlotte and Joan Agajanian Quinn.
Leonard Majzlin, Joan Agajanian Quinn, Carol Hall, Cynthia Tusan, and Kaloust Guedel.
Peter Frank and J. Cheryl Bookout. Don Bachardy and Lori LeBoy.
Country musician Dennis and Victoria Agajanian with Jack Quinn.
Ed Moses, Laddie John Dill, Jack Quinn, Tony Berlant, and Nelson Loskamp.
Ed Moses with Joan Agajanian Quinn.Ani Kopelian, filmaker Gary Conklin, and Carole Boyajian
Jack Quinn, John Olivar, and Laddie John Dill.
J. Cheryl Bookout with Don Bachardy.
Rose Norton, Jack Quinn, and Suzanne Hertfelder.
Joan Quinn and Francesca Garcia-Marques in front joe Goode's portrait.
Coralie Whitcomb and daughter Laura flanking Joan Agajanian Quinn.
Laddie John Dill with Kurt Evans talking about his portrait — Joan Agajanian Quinn as an interview Magazine Stand.
Peter Nelson watching The Joan Quinn Profiles.
Amanda Quinn Olivar, portrait of JAQ by Joe Goode, and artist Sophie.
Filmmaker Schezaad Ausman.Writer Ruth Ziony.
Molly Barnes, Nancy Krasne, and Rose Norton with portraits by Mel Ramos and Eric Pedersen.
Photographs of Joan (by Arthur Tress, Steven Arnold, and Maria von Matthiessen) being viewed by Tony Berlant, Ed Moses, and Laddie John Dill.
Tony Berlant, Ed Moses, and Laddie John Dill.
Mus White with Margaret Black in front of an Ed Moses painting.
Debra Burchett-Lere, director of the Sam Francis Foundation, with Fredell Pogodin, standing in front of Eric Pedersen's portrait of Joan.
Ace Montana with Video Installation showing interviews from The Joan Quinn Profiles.
Wayne Shimabukuro, Amanda Quinn Olivar, Don Bachardy, and Avilda Moses.
Guest taking selfie with Paul Jasmin's portrait.
Dan McCleary and Jim Morphesis.
Solomon Huerta.
Ace Montana and Jonathan Riggall.
Coralie Whitcomb and Mary Empey.Kristina Hagman and Madere Olivar.
George Herms having a laugh with Amanda Quinn Olivar.
Michael Chearney, Brian Nelson, and Raymond Lee.
Molly Barnes, Merry Norris, and Kelly Brumfield-Woods.
Avilda Moses and Don Bachardy.

Photographs by Stephen Jerrome, Gregory Firlotte, & Amanda Quinn Olivar.

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Hot, yesterday in New York

July 9, 2014, 7:50 am
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Sweltering sun over the Hudson. 7:45 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014. Hot, yesterday in New York. Very, with a small breeze late evening with maybe thunderstorms; still waiting for the maybe part at this late hour (midnight).

JH and I were entertained at lunch by our Washington Social Diary correspondent Carol Joynt. We met Carol about eight years ago. I was sitting at this desk one night about two a.m. finishing up, waiting for JH to send me the final layout when I got an email from Carol. I hadn’t heard of her at that moment, (New York)-provincial guy that I am, who knew little to nothing about Washington life. At the time Carol was the (inherited) proprietress of a popular meeting spot/brasserie-ish burger joint in Georgetown called Nathans. (Innocent Spouse, Broadway Paperbacks, Random House, 2011). She started out life writing the news for Walter Cronkite and later on in her career produced for Charlie Rose back in the days when he had a very late night show on NBC, and later than that, for Larry King when he was broadcasting from our nation’s capital.
Outside Nathans when David Kennerly, Vice President Cheney, and Donald Rumsfeld were dining there on July 27th, 2008.
At the time of that email, Carol was conducting a vid-interview weekly from Nathans. It was a merchandising effort (bringing in business: a special lunch price plus interview) and she’d interview a wide variety of Washington players, relatives, Hollywood stars, New York authors and anybody else she could get for an hour or an hour and a half.

Her email was an invitation to be a guest on the show. Now, you may already know this about me but given the opportunity to talk, I am habitually compelled (just this side of addicted) to answering questions about whatever I can. I tell myself that I’m one of those people who likes to hear himself talk. I can be unabashed because I know I’m not alone in this habit. Especially in Washington with all those politicians and politcos and their carbon dioxide.

So about two minutes after receiving Carol’s email, at 2:03 am, on that fateful morn, I responded that I’d like that. She was shocked to get such a quick response. We set a date, and I later wrote about the experience somewhere back there in our archives. JH and I grabbed that Metroliner out of Penn Station one weekday morning.  We made it to Nathans in Georgetown about 11:30 a.m. And were back in New York by six or seven.
DPC and Carol dishing over lunch at the Q&A Cafe at Nathans in 2006.
It was a fascinating interview. I say that because Carol does her homework. Unlike me who tends to wing it based on particular interests of mine, Carol really finds out as much as she can about her interview and his or her subject.  Mine was Society in the Big Apple, is-there-isn’t there and what’s the latest skinny. The interview was set up in a section of restaurant with thirty to forty luncheon guests, with video cameras recording it. Carol is an intrepid interviewer, honestly, truly interested but always with her audience in mind. She asks what she thinks you might like to know. And like any good interview, she can be any man, any woman.

I liked it. Who wouldn’t? I escaped making a fool of myself, no small thanks to her tone and direction. And I learned a lot from it, including that Carol is a great journalist. I mean: she tells you what she sees, her eyes, not yours, maybe, but through those eyes. Again the audience, the reader, is her foremost objective. And there is a  major paucity out there in media-land of that un-ego-adorned technique.
DPC and Carol having more fun over lunch at Nathans in 2007.
After the interview that day, JH and I asked if she’d like to write a weekly Washington Social Diary for us. At first she seemed uncertain that she was up to it (modesty/uncertainty). But it was a win-win situation. It led to a revival of her journalistic career (she had been a recent widow and was mother of a young son), and today she is Editor-at-large for The Washingtonian magazine, prolifically covering that monumental waterfront and its denizens and high muckymucks. Every week she gives us another view of life in our nation’s capital.

A couple of times a year Carol graces us with her presence. She came up yesterday morning on the Metroliner, and met us at Michael’s for lunch. She loves Michael’s for the rose champagne and the fries. A bowl of them that everyone obsessively helped himself too while consuming the rest of lunch. In other words, we had fun as these pictures attest ...
Finally, one worth printing.
Michael’s was pretty busy for a quiet Tuesday in New York in summer. At the table next door, Jason Binn, publisher of DuJour magazine, was lunching with singer John Legend and another friend. Peter Brown was next door at his table entertaining two guests. Carol was surprised to see Washington people there like Politico’s Mike Allen who was lunching with Steve Rattner.

According to Carol, "The first thing everyone in Washington does when they get up in the morning — the first thing, before anything else — is read Playbook." He’s the first word and the last as to what the weather is like behind the Grecian columns and under the Roman domes. Carol made clear that she wasn’t exaggerating: everyone — they can’t help it.
Mike Allen and Steve Rattner on the Charlie Rose Show in 2013.
Mr. Allen stopped by the table to say hello to Carol on his way out. He’s a tall thin fellow, younger than you might think, with a modest, unassuming bearing. Young professorial.  His manner is diffident and polite but sincere. You know by the looks of him, by those apparent qualities, that the chances are what he’s writing, is what is so.

After he left I was wondering what it must feel like for this modest, unassuming fellow to be commanding such journalistic power of attention of Washington politics and its vast subsidiaries. He works even later hours than we do here at the NYSD according to Carol — after three and onwards. It’s a very isolating life in a way, but delicious in terms of what you learn — about the world, life and men and mice; rich in the literary sense, like a novel. And yet, ponderous like those great marble monuments that reside nearby.
POLITICO Playbook's Mike Allen.
Among the Michael’s lunch tables: Mitch Rosenthal and Linda Janklow, Prince Dimitri with Basila Bokoko and Judith Agisim; Simon & Schuster editor — including the “A Life of Barbara Stanwyck” which I finished reading much to my disappointment (wanting more) after 860 pages — Alice Mayhew.

 A portrait of an important time in American culture and politics, so thorough and so captivatingly portrayed in the place, the scene, the characters and the very successful star. The American dream. I know, I’m pushing it, but if you like that stuff, this the place to go to. Also in the room, Andrew Stein; the impresario of culture and history, Elihu (Elly) Roseand daughter Isabelle and assistant Mary; uber-publicist Cindi Berger(PMK).

ThenSusan Zirinsky, the exec producer of 48 Hours stopped by the table with her lunch partner, the beautiful Norah O’Donnell,to say hello to Carol. Norah was an anchor in Washington before coming to do the CBS Morning show with Charlie Rose. Small world all around.

Also at table around the room:Nick Verbitsky; Larry Burstein, publisher of New York magazine; Cathie Black; Boatie Boatright; Luke Janklow;Robert Marston with Martin Puris; Gordon Davis; Diane Sokolow. And it wasn’t even Wednesday. But cool inside Michael’s.
The beautiful Norah O’Donnell.

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La Fete Nationale

July 14, 2014, 8:31 am
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Congregating in the Salon d'Hercule at Versailles, June 18, 2007. Photo: JH.
Monday, July 14, 2014. A sunny, warm weekend; humid but not so bad with storm clouds gathering and threatening to stop by. The weatherman says they will bring cooler temperatures. If and when.

Today is Bastille Day in France, or La Fete Nationale (French National Day), a day that marks the (eventual) beginning of the nation’s century-long transformation from monarchy to republic. It is the 225th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille prison on July 14, 1789, now regarded as the official beginning of The French Revolution which brought down the Monarchy of the Bourbons, including the beheading of the King Louis XVI and his Queen Marie-Antoinette three years later.
Storming of the Bastille, by Jean-Pierre-Louis-Laurent Houel.
The Bastille – official name Bastille Saint-Antoine – is an ironic symbol of political revolution, as for more than three centuries before it had been a bastion of political (monarchical) repression. It was originally a 14th century fortress that was, for much of its existence, from the 15th century onwards, used by the Kings of France as a state prison.

Louis XIV, the Sun King, used it as a receptacle of punishment for members of the upper classes who annoyed or infuriated him. Later it was also used by Louis to imprison Protestants after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. The Edict, which was signed by Louis XIV’s grandfather Henry IV, was an agreement of religious tolerance granting certain human and political rights of the Calvinist Protestants (non-Catholics) in a pro-Roman Catholic country.
Louis XIV.Louis XV.
Louis XVI.Vigée-Lebrun portrait of Marie Antoinette and her children Marie Thérèse, Louis Charles (on her lap), and Louis Joseph, 1787.
Louis XIV revoked his grandfather’s Edict 87 years later. As many as 900,000 of French Protestants  (Huguenots) left France over the next two decades (Louis was still king). Many immigrated to America and distinguished themselves by their prosperity, such as Eleuthere Irenee du Pont de Nemours, founder of the great chemical company (“better things for better living, through chemistry”).

Eleuthere Irenee du Pont de Nemours.
By the 18th century, during the reign of Louis’ grandson Louis XV, and later his great-great grandson Louis XVI, the Bastille was used as a political disposal of those who disagreed with the monarchy’s (the king’s) policies, including those who wrote disagreeable reports of opposition to the monarchy’s politics.

By July 1789, all was not well in the state of France. The monarchy of the Divine Right of Kings was under pressure on all sides, and fraught with accumulating financial corruption all around itself. The problem that would not go away and continued to worsen was a common one: Debt.

The government’s (the monarchy) was so massive that eventually it began to claw away at the supplies of the essentials. In 1788, the crisis was exacerbated by a very bad harvest -- for not only the great unwashed (and they were unwashed) but for the political enemies of the government as well.
East view of the Bastille.
Among the solutions the government put forward was the printing of the assignat, which was a bill, a piece of official paper, identified as currency. It was not the first time in history that a government sought to relieve debt by printing money – Nero did the same (but he coined rather than printed) back in the ancient days of Rome – nor would it be the last. Alas for poor Louis XVI, not to mention Marie-Antoinette.

The problem was a long time in the making. The misdirected and mismanaged finances of the monarchy began almost a century before with Louis XIV. After him came Louis XV (age five when he inherited the throne). Between the building (and constant refurbishing) of the chateau at Versailles and several other chateaux, and the wars that ran for decades, and the expense of the aristocracy (who did not pay much in the way of taxes, and naturally didn’t think they should have to – being aristocracy and all that), by the 1780s too much of a good thing had turned into a bad thing for the French people.
Entrance gate to the Palace of Versailles.
The marble court at Versailles.
In 1776, the year of the beginning of the American Revolution, Louis XVI appointed Jacques Neckerdirector-general of finances. Necker was a Swiss, a prosperous banker in Paris. He could not have the official title of “controller” under the King, because he was Protestant, but he had the power.

During that time he approved and encouraged the loans to the American revolutionary parties that amounted to about $2 billion in today’s currency. He also raised interest rates and encouraged borrowing. Later, when the finances of the government began to come apart, Necker was blamed for the enormous loans to the Americans.

Jacques Necker, director-general of finances.
Twelve years later, by 1788, the French finances were worse than ever. Furthermore, there had been years of official “reports” by Necker that painted a far rosier picture than the reality. He was in the habit of telling people (the King and his advisers) what they wanted to hear. The King dismissed Necker.

Necker in turn failed to  be present at one of the king’s speeches. His absence was looked on as a failure (one of many at this point) of the King. Necker, after all, was the “savior” in the minds of many. The revolutionaries who attacked the Bastille on July 14, 1789 did it three days after Necker’s dismissal.

Having been (mis)perceived as the savior of France’s finances and economy, the revolutionaries used that as a reason to attack the Bastille. They freed the seven prisoners, but not before the battle between the soldiers defending the prison, and the attackers, caused 98 deaths – mainly the attackers and the officer who presided over the prison, as well as three others from his staff.

The incident, now celebrated as the spark that ignited the French Revolution, was witnessed by no more than 300 people that summer day in Paris, and almost a third of them did not live to tell about it. Without modern communication, the general population of Paris had little or no idea. It was made known, however, to the powers that be, including the King.
Women's March on Versailles.
Conscious of the protestation against Necker’s firing, five days later, the King tried ameliorating by re-hiring him. Jacques Necker had triumphed. But he was on a fool’s errand: the natural forces of economics and finance had long before moved away from a managed solution. There was no turning back. And so, on this day in 1789, the first blow came with the Bastille.

Click here to read FIAT MONEY INFLATION IN FRANCE by Andrew Dickson White.
The writing had been on the wall for a long time to not afew -- whose warnings were ignored by almost all (the peasantry notwithstanding, although they probably thought very little about any of it).

Three months after the Bastille, on October 5, 1789, there was a march on Versailles by several thousand women from the marketplace in Paris. The demonstration was entirely not unplanned. The idea had been moving through various circles of citizens in Paris. It was a well known possibility by the time it happened.

Precautions were taken at the palace at Versailles for protecting the royal family. Additional soldiers were brought in. On October 1st, there was a banquet welcoming the soldiers, set up in the palace’s opera house. It was a king’s banquet and the soldiers partook of the abundance including the wines and champagne. The party went on into the early hours of the next day.  Within a day or so, it was reported in one of the Paris papers and referred to as a lavish orgy.
Banquet given on 1 October 1789 at the Versailles Opera House.
The idea that the King and Queen could entertain their guards so lavishly while the “people” were starving, took flight. So it was on that morning of October 5th, a young woman in the market place of Paris, standing on the edge of a crowd of market-women, struck a marching drum. Soon after the bells of a nearby church tolled. And it began, and in driving rain. Traipsing the 12 or 13 miles through rain and mud in some places, the market women were protesting the high price and scarcity of bread.

The crowd had grown by thousands by the time they reached Versailles. There was an audience with the King for a small committee of marchers. He was accommodating and impressive to those with whom he met. He offered to return to Paris to be closer to his people.
Massacre of a Garde du Corps at the door of the Queen's Apartment.
On the advice of the Marquis de Lafayette, the King appeared on a balcony to address the crowd. It was favorable. He was followed by the Queen and her children, and that was not unfavorable also. The following early morning, however, a group of protestors found an unguarded gate to get into the palace. Two guards attempted to face down the crowd. One of the guard’s head was cut off and put on pike. Soon another guard was beheaded. Eventually Lafayette brought some calm to the situation.
Marquis de Lafayette.
In the early afternoon, the royal party got into their carriages and with the National Guard and an estimated 60,000 people escorting them, they were transported to the Tuileries Palace in Paris, where their lives moved into the beginning of the end. 
Palace and garden des Tuileries.
Less than two years later, in June 1791, the King and Queen made a botched plan to flee from Paris, and France. They were caught, and returned to the Tuileries where they remained until they were both arrested and imprisoned after the monarchy was abolished in September 1792.

The following year, on January 21, 1793, Louis was guillotined in the Place de la Revolution (now the Place de la Concorde). Nine months later, on October 16th, Marie Antoinette was guillotined.
The guillotine in operation at the Place de la Revolution in 1783.
Over the next nine months, about 16,000 people were guillotined across France in a period known in history as The Terror.  More than a half million were imprisoned and 10,000 died before coming to trial. Political chaos ensued along with the wholesale murders.

One of the heroes who eventually emerged from this melee of the people against the people was a Captain Napoleon Bonaparte, who within a little more than a decade would crown himself Emperor of France.
The Emperor Napoleon in His Study at the Tuileries, by Jacques-Louis David, 1812.
During the final period when the royal family was at the Tuileries, Jacques Necker had continued in his role as director of the finances. But matters had only grown worse, and beyond his control. Soon he was no longer regarded as the hero saving France. In 1790, with his reputation forever tarnished by the continuing failure of the economy to revive, with Mme. Necker and his daughter Germaine, Jacques Necker had narrowly escaped the fate of the King and Queen and the revolutionary turmoil, by fleeing to Switzerland where he remained safely until his death in 1804.

Madame de Stael.
Necker’s daughter Germaine, when she came of age, married the Swedish Ambassador to France, and became known forever more as Madame de Stael. A very early feminist, visionary and writer, Mme. De Stael, like her father, and her mother – who had presided over one of the most influential salons in Paris – she became a force on the national political scene in France. Never fooled by the meteoric rise of Capt. Bonaparte and his Machiavellian ambitions, her commentaries about him annoyed him to the point where instead of jailing or executing her, he wanted to make her suffer. He banished her ... not from France ... but from the one place in all the world that she loved the most: Paris. At a distance of 40 leagues (120 miles), she could never set foot in Paris. Again. Or so he thought.

Napoleon’s “edict” toward Madame de Stael did not hold of course. After his second exile to St. Helena, she resumed residence in Paris where her “salon,” like her mother’s, was highly frequented by people of literary influence and political power. She died on this day, July 14, 1817, 28 years after the fall of the Bastille.

And dear old France, after the Revolution, then briefly a republic, then an Imperial monarchy, followed by a restoration of the throne; then a second Empire, another republic and then two more, remains powerfully French.
The remaining stones of the Bastille on Boulevard Henri IV.

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Summertime and vacationtime

July 15, 2014, 10:16 am
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Lilies along Columbus Avenue. 4 PM. Photo: JH.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014. Yesterday in New York was overcast, occasionally sunny, and hot and humid. Then about 8 pm, the rains came, first lightly and then steadily through the evening leading up to midnight. The city streets are quiet after dark. It is summertime and vacationtime. You can feel it.

Yesterday morning at the Frank Campbell funeral home, they held a service for G. Nicholas (Nick) Simunek who died last Thursday, July 10th, after being briefly ill with cancer.

Nick Simunek and Terry Allen Kramer.
Nick, an Englishman, born and bred in London, a member of the Coldstream Guards in his youth, was 76. He’d attended McGill University in Canada and then lived in this country for a good part of his adult life. Fifteen years or so ago, he married Broadway producer and Wall Street banking heiress Terry Allen Kramer. Nick was a hail-fellow-well-met kind of guy, a man with a warm, ebullient personality which he shared with whomever he came in contact.

He and Terry shared a deep interest in theatrical and film producing, as well as the camaraderie of a wide variety of friends. They very often entertained at their fabulous Upper East Side duplex penthouse, at their spectacular oceanside villa in Palm Beach, and every summer in St. Tropez.

In the last few years Nick has been active in film production. He was vice-chairman of two production companies – Helmdale and Gateway Films. He was also president of Remarkable Partners, a production company owned by Terry which has produced more than 40 plays and musicals on Broadway and in the UK.

Catching up with the social calendar. Last Wednesday night at Arena, the event space next door to Bryant Park, Fred Anderson, the business partner of fashion designer Douglas Hannant, celebrated a special birthday in the company of scores (hundreds?) his mostest and closest friends. Arena is an ideal stage set for special parties with a very sophisticated lighting system, 5600 square feet of party space easily transformable for multi-media events.  Fred Anderson knows how to show his guests a good time, and so it was ...
The scene at Arena for Fred Anderson's birthday bash ...
Frederick Anderson, Dietchi Anderson, Sylvia Anderson, and Dimitri Anderson
Chad Wagner and Gavin Grymes
Marie Stewart and Frederick Burton
George Wayne and Sonja Morgan
Oscar Plotkin and Sharon Bush
Richard Turley and Yaz Hernandez
Jo Hallingby and Yaz Hernandez
Kim Mallett and Richard Yumang
Svetlana Smolina, Tatiana Vidus, and Barbara Regna
Jack Thiles and Jack Mims
Lauren Roberts and Nicole Noonan
Shaokao Cheng and Niki Cheng
Joe Wiese and Zev Eisenberg
Andre Viveros, Angeline Loo, and Bryant Robinson
Sharon Handler-Loeb and Geoffrey Bradfield
Jackie Astier and Nancy Jones
Katia Dryleba
Margot Lewis, Albert Zamora, and Adam Behlen
Jean Shafiroff and Chiu-Ti Jansen
Marco Guidetti-Hoffman, Alice Judelson, and Jason Hoffman
Salomé Mazard and Douglas Hannant
Nicole Hanley Mellon, David Marshack, and Marcy Warren
Eric Javits, Lucia Hwong Gordon, Barbara Regna, Harrison Morgan, Di Mondo, and Greg Kan
Kim Mallett, Garrett Bowser, Richard Yumang, and Francisco Casales
Richard Farley and Chele Chiavacci
Nina Soriano and Cailan Orn
Roy Kean, Stanislav Sokolov, Gabriel Sebastian, and Paul Beirne
Eric Ketcham, Hyein Lee, and Lorenzo Hill-White
Svetlana Smolina and Marty Thomas
Jane Lawrence, Polly Onet, and Karen Klopp
Sonja Morgan and friends
Matthew Leeb, Dr. Mark Warfel, and Antonio Fiumara
Julio Gaggia and Dominique Semiole
Frederick Anderson and Douglas Hannant
Erik Bottcher and Sam Bolton
Sonja Morgan and Jihad Harkeem
Katrina Long, Eddy Bogaert, and Katia Dryleba
Consuelo Vanderbilt Costin, Nicole Noonan, Adele Nino, Joy Marks, and Nicole Hanley Mellon
Alan Marks, Adele Nino, Bryant Robinson, and Joy Marks
Also, celebrating his birthday recently was interior designer Mark Epstein, who hosted a dinner at Haven’s Kitchen on 109 West 17th Street, between Sixth and Seventh Avenue. Friends, clients, associates from the world of finance, business, interior design and media joined the birthday boy for an evening that culminated in a dance performance by American Ballet Theatre’s princepal dancer Megan LeCrone.
The birthday boy, Mark Epstein
Bob Smith toasting Mark Epstein
Robert Zimmerman, Mel Gerstein, and Gayle Gerstein
James Schreiber, Wendy Schreiber, and Jamie Drake
Jamie Drake, Dennis Miller, Terry Fassburg, and James Kerse
Jon Satovsky, Stacey Satovsky, and Jara Feinblatt
Mark Epstein and Jill Smith
Zach Schreiber, Lori Schreiber, Danny Romanoff, Ronnie Fisher, and Chris Sullivan
Principal Ballet Dancer, Megan LeCrone
Also this past Saturday in Southampton, Sequin, a fashion jewelry store founded by sisters Kim andLinda Renk, along with store manager, Cheryl Dovenberg, along with Jean Shafiroff hosted a kick-off reception for this coming Saturday’s (July 19th) Southampton Animal Shelter Foundation's 5th Annual Unconditional Love Gala.

Among the SASF’s supporters attending were Jonathan McCann, Martin Shafiroff, Lucia Hwong Gordon, Cassandra Seidenfeld, Patricia Gray, Nicole Noonan, Sandra McConnell, Susan Allen and Amy Rosi, admiring the fashions and petting the adoptable dogs on hand for the party.
Pat Gray, Jean Shafiroff, Gina Martini, Kathy Ferraro, Dakota, and Munchkin
This year they will be honoring Georgina Bloomberg. Honorary Corporate Chairs are Allen & Co.,Barclays, Ferguson Cohen, LLP and Sequin Jewelry.Alex Donner and his orchestra will provide the music for the special evening.

The Southampton Animal Shelter Foundation is ranked among the top ten shelters in the country. In addition to providing adoption services, the shelter offers a low-cost spay/neuter clinic. The Training and Behavior Department, evaluates each dog and develops individually tailored training, based upon a dog's needs. Dog obedience classes, as well as dog play groups, are offered to the public.
Sandra McConnell and Tony Urrutia
Cynthia Roth and Susan Allen
Renee Adrienne Smith and Cassandra Seidenfeld
Marcia Schaeffer and Pepper
Amy Rosi and Peter Rosenthal
John Awe and Linda Renk
Maria Mora and Dakota
Ed Ankudavich, Dakota, and Rosemary Ponzo
Randi Schatz and Rosemary Ponzo
Dustin Lujan and Victor de Souza
Arlette Castro and Laura Pashayan
Melissa Breitbart-Sohn, Randi Schatz, and Katlean de Monchy
Chris Arnold and Dana Bartel
Victor de Souza and Cassandra Seidenfeld
Carol Bauhs, Amanda Schaefer, Rascal, and Mimi
Giuliana Koch and Carole Harting
Joe Alexander and R. Couri Hay
Steven Knobel and Nicole Noonan
John Awe and Liz Kelly
Cheryl Dovenberg, Jean Shafiroff, Linda Renk, and Dakota
Jean Shafiroff and Martin Shafiroff
Somer Abramson and Seth

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Left out in the rain

July 16, 2014, 6:48 am
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18th Street and Fifth Avenue. 2:30 PM. Photo: JH.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014. Rainy days in New York. Yesterday it was hot and fairly humid, and threatening rain until late afternoon when it came down in torrents into the early evening. And then more, off and on after that. The good news for this non-air-conditioned writer is that everything cooled down nicely. So far this summer – the first three weeks – Mother Nature has been very kind to us while also demonstrating the season honestly.

The city is summer quiet. The nabe is much quieter because the two schools nearby are closed. And surely many of the residents are away at least for part of the summer. The traffic yesterday, however, was heavy and confounding. You could read a mood of angst and uncertainty (if you’re “into reading what you see in this great big town). There are lots of tourists in midtown. You can tell that they’re tourists because they dress like they’re at the beach and on the beach. Yesterday, however, there were some strong thunderclaps in the late morning and fewer beach bunnies and their rabbits.
I went down to Michael’s to lunch with Bonnie Strauss and Paula Stein of the Bachmann Strauss Dystonia & Parkinson Foundation. Bonnie who has lived with Dystonia for much of her adult life (she contracted it after her second pregnancy). When she told her father whom she was close to and respected, he advised her to seek solutions for herself, but for others also. That fatherly advice was well taken.

Today there are four Bachmann Strauss Dystonia Centers at Beth Israel Mount Sinai here in New York, a the University of Alabama at Birmingham, at UC San Francisco, and at the University of Florida. In the past twenty-two years of the foundation’s existence they’ve raised about $25 million which has been re-distributed for research grants. You may have read about their 22nd annual fund-raising golf tournament a couple of weeks ago here on the NYSD.
Paula Stein, DPC, and Bonnie Strauss at Michael's.
Most people have never heard of Dystonia, and it is very difficult to diagnose the early symptoms, but it affects people of all ages. And because it is a neurological condition, it can ruin people’s lives. It is an enormous burden for children to grow up with. Bonnie and her associates and contributors/supporters, are dealing with that.

Bonnie and her foundation director Paula Stein make an interesting lunch as there is much to learn and understand. It is also especially interesting to me to hear what they are doing and why. Bonnie’s father was a successful textile manufacturer here in New York. The family lived in Rye. But her father was also an active philanthropist and inculcated his daughter with the values of his objective. When he advised her to do something about it for others, she was naturally predisposed to follow in his footsteps. Families.

Last night, I had dinner at Sette Mezzo as a guest of Scott Stevenson, a young lawyer, the son of a friend of mine, whom I have known since he was a boy, and his fiancee Dr. Karen Duncan. Sette was busy: Former Mayor Rudy Giuliani was dining with his wife Judith. Wilbur and Hilary Geary Ross were dining with Harry and Gigi Benson– the Bensons are just back from Paris where the George V is running an exhibition of Harry’s photos of the Beatles at the very beginning of their spectacular career.
Dessert #1: Tartufo topped with stewed cherries.
Also around the room, Gayfryd Steinberg and her fiancé, writer Michael Shnayerson, who will marry next month in Sag Harbor; continuing: Donald Newhouse and family; Geraldine Fabrikant with Shelby White; Harry Macklowe; Billy and Ophelia Rudin with family (including daughter Samantha, and Alex Papachristidis and Scott Nelson); David Wassong; philanthropist Helen Kimmel. New York on a rainy summer night.
Dessert #2: Cherry pie with cherry sorbet.
Today we are running one of those remarkable obituaries from the Telegraph of London– this one of the Duchess of Roxburghe, the first wife of the 9th Duke of Roxburghe of Floors Castle, Scotland. The duchess died last week at age 99. The duke, who was a cousin of Winston Churchill, was also the son of May Goelet, heiress to a Manhattan real estate fortune. May’s mother, Mary Wilson Goelet, was the sister of Grace Wilson, who married Cornelius Vanderbilt III, Orme Wilson, who married Carrie Astor, the daughter of the Mrs. Astor and William Backhouse Astor. The duchess’ divorce from the duke was one of the great scandals of the Edwardian era when women’s rights were practically unheard of.  She survived.

The Telegraph Obituary: Mary, Duchess of Roxburghe, who has died aged 99, showed courage and tenacity when in 1953 she resisted a six-week campaign by her husband, the 9th Duke, to evict her from Floors Castle, his 100-room ducal seat overlooking the Tweed, near Kelso.

Mary, Duchess of Roxburghe, when she was evicted from the Floors Castle, 1953.
9th Duke of Roxburghe.
The mother of Duchess of Roxburghe, Lady Crewe, c. 1899.
He brought the action under Scottish common law which, at that time, laid down that a wife lived in her husband’s house only “by licence”. The Duke gave no reason for wanting to turf his wife out of the family home. The marital dispute was eventually settled out of court and the Duchess departed for London. In December that year she was granted a divorce on account of her husband’s adultery.

Mary Roxburghe had withstood the seige without telephone, electric light or gas. The Duke had ordered the water be turned off, too, but the edict was rescinded after a neighbour, the Earl of Home (as the future Prime Minister was then styled) advised her to warn the insurance company of the fire risk. Other sympathetic neighbours, including Lord Haig, surreptitiously supplied her with food, paraffin lamps and candles for six weeks.

But not everyone took her part. At another border estate, Bowhill, the then Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch were divided in their allegiance. The Duchess sympathised with Mary Roxburghe, but her husband, an aristocrat of the old school, plumped for the duke.

Lady Mary Evelyn Hungerford Crewe-Milnes was born on March 23 1915, the only daughter by the second marriage of the first and last Marquess of Crewe to Lady "Peggy" Primrose. She was named after her godmother, Queen Mary.

Both her parents came from colourful families. Crewe was the son of Monckton Milnes, created Lord Houghton, an MP, man of letters, raconteur, patron of the arts and owner of a fine library containing, as the Complete Peerage demurely put it, “books by no means virginibus puerisque” [ie not “for girls and boys”]. Lord Crewe, who inherited his father’s barony in 1885, was subsequently created an earl (1895) and a marquess (1911). As a Liberal statesman he held several important offices, among them Viceroy of Ireland, Secretary of State for India and the Colonies; Lord President of the Council and Ambassador to France.

The splendour of his career, however, was punctuated by an amiable recklessness in money matters, and in 1904 he was said to have amassed debts of £600,000 (nearly £64 million today) as a result of extravagance and speculation, not least on the racecourse.

Lady Crewe was a daughter of the 5th Earl of Rosebery, Liberal Prime Minister in 1894-95, by Hannah Rothschild, daughter of Baron Mayer de Rothschild, who built Mentmore. She entertained with panache and cast the net of friendship widely. Some found her formidable.

Born into the purple of high office and beautiful possessions, Mary Crewe-Milnes was brought up at Crewe Hall, a huge Jacobean pile rebuilt by Barry, on the outskirts of the Cheshire railway town — and at Crewe House, Curzon Street, one of the last great mansions of Mayfair.
Crewe Hall where Mary Crewe-Milnes was brought up.
In 1935 she was married in Westminster Abbey to the 9th Duke of Roxburghe— “Bobo” to his intimates — a Scottish landowner of more than 80,000 acres, and perhaps the best shot in the kingdom.

In 1937 the Duchess’s imposing stature and dark good looks were again seen to advantage in the Abbey at the coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. With the Duchesses of Buccleuch, Norfolk and Rutland, she carried the new Queen’s train.
Floors Castle, 9th Duke of Roxburghe's 100-room ducal seat overlooking the Tweed.
Mary Roxburghe showed enterprise in the early months of the war by joining a party of “illicit wives” who had wangled passages to the Middle East to be with their Army husbands. Peter Coats, the garden designer and ADC to General Wavell, noted in April 1940: “Palestine is more like Ladies’ Day at Ascot than ever. Actually, I disapprove of them being here, just because they can pull strings and have the fare. But as they are all friends, I can’t work against them.”

The enterprising Mary Roxburghe.
A few weeks later the ever-obliging ADC extricated the Duchess from her car, marooned near Jerusalem in a herd of goats.

After her divorce, Mary Roxburghe spent much of her life at 15, Hyde Park Gardens, a large and elegantly furnished flat overlooking the park. She worked for many charities and was President of the National Union of Townswomen’s Guilds. She also became an enthusiastic member of the Royal Society of Literature, and was for many years a devoted patron of the Royal Ballet.

Mary Roxburghe entertained young and old alike with the same attention to detail and Rothschild cuisine as had her parents. She was well-informed on the politics and diplomacy of the day, showing no aversion to gossip. She loved bridge, too.

From her mother, who died in 1967, she inherited West Horsley Place, a spacious 16th century house and estate near Leatherhead, Surrey, where a well-developed aesthetic sense prompted her to allow only the more comely breeds of cattle to graze on her Elysian pastures.
West Horsley Place.
She took a philosophic view of the worldly goods with which she was endowed. When informed in 1983 that Crewe House, sold by her father in 1937 for £90,000, was on the market again for £50 million, she was unimpressed. “I will bear the news with fortitude,” she said.

There were no children of her marriage.

Mary, Duchess of Roxburghe, born March 23 1915, died July 2 2014

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What’d you say??

July 17, 2014, 8:26 am
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An everyday scene. Photo: JH.
Thursday, July 17, 2014. Rain over for the time being; the Sun came out yesterday, the temperatures reached up into the 80s but the humidity was minimal. The traffic wasn’t. Choking the streets and avenues, the worst in midtown, the worst of the week.

How do I know this? I was on my way down to midtown to meet our No Holds Barred columnist Blair Sabol and her friend Linda Rodin (Ro-danh), the beauty consultant whom Blair swears by and whose services she subscribes to. And JH made one of his rare appearances and joined us too.

Blair taking in the scene at Michael's.
Blair, who lives mainly in Scottsdale, Arizona, has been on the East Coast for the past several weeks staying at her parents’ house in Philadelphia. This was her second or third foray into Manhattan (and environs) since she’s been in Phila. Visiting New York is always a goldmine for writers who can’t help writing about their experience. Blair fits that bill.

This trip she stayed at a luxury hotel which will remain nameless because, among other things, the hotel fire alarm went off (falsely, it turned out) about 4 a.m. This is disturbing to anyone in a sleep, deep or otherwise. But even more disturbing, the same thing happened after the midnight hour the last time Blair stayed there. Was it a conspiracy? Should she take it personally? She should take Ambien if nothing else at 4 a.m.

The thought might have passed through her head. What transpired, I cannot say, and I don’t know if Blair Will say or What she will say if she does, so I’ll leave it to the wait. What she did learn was that there is an attitude in New York about which hotels are the good ones and which aren’t, and what part of town they’re in. If so, it’s dismaying news on many counts. But that’s for Blair to tell you in the next No Holds column ...

Michael’s was very busy Wednesday, with the decibel levels moving up noticeably (I couldn’t hear my lunch partners without practically shoving my ear in their faces.) Normally my hearing is far from perfect. Others would attest to its obvious deafness. However, on this kind of Wednesday at Michael’s the majority of  lunchers (diners?) were filling the air with that New York clatter chatter. The amazing thing about that is, in a place where all kinds of deals and dramas are being hatched by one and all (media/TV/film/publishing/bankers/Wall St), you can’t hear a word anyone is saying even if they’re yelling because so is everybody else. Yelling. Probably a good place to share a deep secret with someone you trust; the noise is so much that people try to tune out the voices nearby. What’d you say??
Meanwhile, more selfies in Central Park. Photo: JH.
The rundown. At the table next to us, the gregarious, garrulous and ubiquitous financial advisor Euan Rellie, a Scot, married to one of the famous Sykes sisters. Euan was with Justine Mannerling and Kevin Martel, the creative director of Harry’s of London.  Harry’s of London was started I was told, by Matthew Mellon, the former husband of Tamara Mellon, the tycooness of Jimmy Choo fame and fortune.

Men’s shoes, Harry’s. Now all the rage. Euan would love it if I’d show you a picture of Harry’s current, line but I’m not going to. You know where to look if you really want to know. Go ahead, you might like.

That was next door to us. In the bay at Table One, Steven Rubenstein, the PR guru (along with his father and brother). On the other side of us Fern Mallis was lunching with architect Steven Learner and Sarah Medford. Beyond them, marketing and advertising executive Cindy Lewis. In the corner (Barry Diller’s table when he’s in town), Dana Miller and Mitch Kanner. You don’t know who they are? Neither do I. Michael’s knows, however, and maybe you might want to also. Next to them, Alice Mayhew, the Simon & Schuster editor with literary agent Ed Victor. Were they discussing the rumored to be imminent acquisition of S&S by Amazon.com? I have no idea, but others were definite airing opinions about the rumor and Jeff Bezos taking over the whole publishing/media world.  And then the moon, of course.

Moving along, at the table next to Alice Mayhew, Bob Barnett, the Washington attorney, husband of newcaster, the great (the voice) Rita Braver. Mr. Barnett on meeting is a congenial, gracious fellow, just the way you’d hope a high powered lawyer would be. At table, or across the desk, wherever it is, however, he’s a genius dealmaker for his clients, many of whom are very famous celebrities, athletes, actors, politicians -- and rich, no small thanks to him. Mr. Barnett was with Adrian Zackheim, the publisher.

I am your camera. Across the way, and in the center of the room, Diane Clehane, girl reporter, was interviewing Tessa Edick, founder of FarmOn!, along with public relations lady Judy Twersky who arranged the howjado’s, and Beth Feldman. Across the aisle again: Lisa Linden (Linden Atschuler) with writer James Panero. Across the way from Ms. Linden, Dini Von Meuffling.

On one side of her, PR consultant and political analyst Robert Zimmerman. On the other side of Dini, politico Andrew Stein lunching with a beautiful model. next to her Couri Hay, and across the way from Couri, Christy Ferer. Nearby: Sotheby’s Exec VP Jamie Niven with Neal Lasher. Also nearby: (David) Sanford (of the WSJ) and (Lewis) Stein; Jack Myers  with Mark Debevoise; Jack Kliger with Tom Goodman; Shelly Palmer; Jim Smith of Niche Media;  Pauline Brown, Liz Smith (Alliance Bernstein, not your Liz Smith; William Hardie, Cliff Sobel, U.S. Ambassador to Brazil; Paul Beirne; Duncan Darrow, Michael Christenson of Allen & Company; and Philippe Salomon and his wife Paula who always take two places at the bar where they can take in the whole scene coming and going while enjoying the Michael’s menu. The Salomons, aside from their view (and they are in my purview) have a very good time together. A team, you could call it. 

I would guess, the world outside aside, the guests yesterday afternoon at Michael’s were having a good time together too. And making some inroads, some agreements, some deals and some ideas that may move their worlds and even the world along to better things.
Early evening in Riverside Park. Photo: JH.

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Great Departures

July 18, 2014, 1:40 pm
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I'll drink to that. 3 PM. Photo: JH.
Friday, July 18, 2014.Warm, sunny day, yesterday in New York. No rain, little to no humidity; a perfect Summer day.
Remembering. Elaine Stritch died early yesterday at her home in Birmingham, Michigan. Stritch, who grew up in Michigan, came here to New York when she was in her early 20s to have a career as an actress. Her talent took her all over the world, and to the heights of New York’s theatre where she learned everything her talent would need to become one of the great great performers of our era.

She’d retired to Michigan sensibly but reluctantly only a couple of years ago. One could see that no matter how sensible the decision to leave, she was always back in town if she had any reason to be here, trouper that she was.

I can say I knew Elaine, although really only from being in her company – usually with Liz Smith. Liz and she had been friends for the better part of sixty years or more.  And although I never got to know her on a personal level, I learned so much about from Liz, and from Peter Rogers, and another friend of Stritch’s who happened to be a college mate of mine, Bob DiNapoli, that the combination of being in her company, hearing her friends talk about her, and watching her perform, I felt I knew her.

She lived to be on that stage. At the end it was very hard to leave it, and she wasn’t shy about demonstrating that. It had been a great pleasure watching her perform -- aside from her ability to amuse -- because she was the consummate pro. She had learned from the greats who came before, and she became one herself.

She was one of those people, one of those actors, who was entirely there, wherever she was, including in her performances whether on stage, in a cabaret like the Café Carlyle, or in front of a camera. And she loved it! At a birthday party (she shared the same day with Liz and they celebrated together occasionally, with lots of friends), it was the same lady you saw up there on the stage or screen.

She lived for years at the Carlyle, and so East Siders might see her walking in the neighborhood. Seeing her even on the sidewalk could tell you a lot about the lady. She was tall and angular, and walked with a wide, determined gait, at a good speed. She was going somewhere (“otherwise why would I be on the sidewalk?”).

When she stopped to talk to a stranger or a friend, again, you saw that personality and character operating. There was a quality of the naïve, and the new girl in town still in the old dame who’d seen and heard it all. We were lucky to have her.

I chose this video of her which is the opening of her wonderful one woman show on Broadway, “At Liberty,” because it’s classic Stritch and it’s a perfect epitaph – and told her way. Nobody could have done it better. She owned and shared it Big Time. We were lucky to have been here when she was.
Also, speaking of the departure of the greats, yesterday Maria Cooper Janis sent me a couple of photos of the great conductor Lorin Maazel, who died on Sunday at age 84, at his home in Virginia. The maestro was a longtime friend of Maria’s husband Byron Janis, the great piano virtuoso.

The first photo is of the two friends when they were teenagers. Maria wrote: “The performance that Vladimir Horowitz first heard Byron perform at was a concert with Lorin and the Pittsburgh Symphony – Lorin 14, Byron, age 16 – in Rachmaninoff’s 2nd Piano Concerto. The rest is history ...
Byron Janis, age 16, and Loren Maazel, age 14, before a concert with the Pittsburgh Symphony, 1947.
And many years later, old friends ...

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American Landscapes

July 21, 2014, 6:42 am
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An empty lot on 31st Street and 6th Avenue. 3 PM. Photo: JH.
Monday, July 21, 2014. It was another really beautiful weekend, in New York. Maybe the best one so far. Sunny, warm but in the low 70s, with an occasional breeze cooling things in the shade.
Showboat (sort of) moves along up river yesterday afternoon about 2 p.m.
Today is the 115th anniversary of the birth of Ernest Hemingway, born in Oak Park, Illinois. I was of the generation that couldn’t resist Hemingway. He and Fitzgerald and O’Hara, were giants in 20th century American literature to this boy. The three men were also friends, and admirers of the man’s talent. And he, Hemingway, was, in my opinion, the most influential as a stylist. (Although O’Hara has always been my favorite.) I read the books and was deeply affected by AE Hotchner’s biography of him. He shot himself just three weeks before his 62nd birthday in Ketchum, Idaho in 1961.
Ernest Hemingway, 1939.
Well, we’re late with this one. Real late. Last May 17th. But better late than never, at least in this case. It was on that day, a Saturday, when the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh formally celebrated its 20th Anniversary. 

I’ve written somewhere on these pages (quite some time ago) about my experience of going to one of the very first Andy Warhol shows of New Works back in 1963. It was at the Leo Castelli Gallery in the East 70s.

Neither Warhol nor Castelli were famous outside of the art world. I had never heard of either man, so I had no idea what I might expect. Castelli was highly regarded (although I didn't know that) but not the giant he became. Andy I had never heard his name before the night I walked into the gallery which was on the ground floor of a townhouse.
Leo Castelli, Pop art dealer Ivan Karp and artist Andy Warhol, at Castelli's gallery in 1966. Sam Falk/The New York Times/Redux.
It was all Brillo boxes, Campbell Soup boxes and Kellogg’s Corn Flakes boxes. Filling the rooms so that you couldn’t enter. They filled the rooms, leaving no room for a human to even stand.

Warhol's Brillo Boxes, 1963.
There probably isn’t a reader among you today who can’t easily picture that, because Andy became like his boxes --  beyond fame and into the collective unconscious. At first sight for this kid, who was never an art historian, who had no interest in Art History, and just wanted to Go Out in New York, it was absurd. I’d seen those likenesses all my life growing up. On the breakfast table, in the kitchen sink and in the cupboard. How could that be Art?

He asked.

I thought it was funny and naturally thought I was pretty smart. I probably still think I’m pretty smart at times, but I also know I don’t give much thought to a lot of things. I sure didn’t know a thing about Andy Warhol and his art when I walked in the door that night. I’d been invited by a girl I knew who was an assistant to an editor at Glamour magazine. The editor was invited to everything going on around town, and anything she didn’t want to do she passed off to my friend. Lucky for us, kids in New York now grown up.

After the reception at the gallery, we went over to a party that Ethel Scull, an early Warhol collector, was hosting in Andy’s loft in the East 40s. I still recall that evening vividly because it was my first look at the New York Art World, something I didn’t know existed until that moment – which was already a cool thing to a young man in a hurry.
Ethel Scull 36 Times, 1963.
Jean Shrimpton, the model, then at her peak, was the star of the evening. Gloria Vanderbilt was there. She was famous, even more famous that Shrimpton. The kid was agog. Photographers were taking pictures of the two women with several artists, none of whom had names recognizable to me: names like Rosenquist, Lichtenstein, Oldenburg. At one point while the mass photographing was going on at one end of the large space, Mrs. Scull stood in the middle of the room and shouted: “I’m paying for this f**king party, when are you going to take a picture of me?” She was pissed off. But no match for Shrimpton or Vanderbilt in this kid’s mind.
Rosenquist and artists at a party at Andy Warhol's studio, The Factory, in New York City, 1964. Pictured from right: Andy Warhol, James Rosenquist, British fashion model Jean Shrimpton, Roy Lichtenstein, Tom Wesselmann, Claes Oldenburg. Photo: Ken Heyman.
Andy had a very agreeable personality, not remarkable. And so, to me, like his art which I had just seen and left with the impression that it was ordinary (everyday), he seemed to have almost no personality. He was courteous, he was pleasant but otherwise ...  Ha! on me. I should say. It took me quite some time in life to see what I was looking at, and even longer to realize that that this very seemingly unassuming man wearing what looked like a white wig (I thought it was his real hair ...!) would one day be a museum!

I should add, in self-defense: like many others, I came to understand Warhol, who was his art, who lived his art and knew what he was assuming. It was he, more than anyone, who was the influence on my own work as a writer. The media was his art also.
The Andy Warhol Museum.
And it was, this past May 17th at the Andy Warhol Museum, a weekend celebration of the anniversary. Andy, who grew up in Pittsburgh, was a household word, with a museum under the umbrella of four museums known as the Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh, he was as famous – actually probably more famous, and legendary – than the man whose philanthropy – derived from his genius – built the museums – Andrew Carnegie.

It must have been some weekend. On Saturday night there was a cocktail reception, a tour of the newly installed permanent collection of The Warhol Preview of  Halston and Warhol: Silver and Suede exhibition. Then after the black tie dinner, there was a dance party with DJs Andrew Andrew.
George Shaner, Marylou Hacker, Jill Briercheck, Michel Franklin, and Michael Philopena
Then on Sunday, May 18th, Bob Colacello, who is Warhol’s Boswell to the point where it may as well be official, gave a talk and a book signing of his “HOLY TERROR: Andy Warhol Up Close.” Colacello’s career as a writer and biographer began with Warhol and “Interview,” the magazine that changed American magazines and influenced everybody today.

The Warhol Halston Show runs through August 24th.  No doubt people will be coming from all over the world to see it. It’s an American Dream story: local boy goes to New York, makes good and brings New York back to Pittsburgh, to stay. A great place to end up. I’ve been to Pittsburgh, so I know.
Alexander Gilkes and Misha Nonoo
Ann Fu Yung and Gregory Labon
Alan Mur, Cindy Lisica, Jessica Beck, and Gerilyn Huxley
Ben Malka
Craig Jordan and Ellen Jordan
Jamie Schutz and Eric Shiner
David Jensen
Jane Holzer and John Block
Jeff Weimer, Jill Weimer, Anna Ciaccio, and Tim McVay
Debbie Barbarita and Michael Barbarita
Dolly and Curt Ellenberg
Jeffrey Bradford, Norah Lawlor, Susan Jones Block, and John Block
Jill Briercheck
Virginia Nelson, Elizabeth Nelson, and Nancy Burns
John Guehl and Miroya Stabile
John Peterman and Curt Ellenberg
Jim Gruber and Barb Gruber
Katarina Bjoernslev and Flemming Bjoernslev
John Peterman, Donna Peterman, Patrick Moore, and Ann McGuinn
Lee Foster, Alice Snyder, Judy Davenport, and Ron Davenport
Madeline Warhola, Maria Warhola, George Warhola, Marty Warhola, and Abby Warhola
Marc Chazaud, Michele Fabrizi, Christopher Hahn, Ron Booth, and Diana Reid
Maureen Kerr-Burkland, Tim Hunt, Vincent Fremont, Patrick Moore, Robert Becker, and Shelley Dunn Fremont
Melanie Brown, Tim Hunt, and Cathy Lewis Long
Peter Davis, Patrick McGregor, and Stephane Le Duc
Shelly Dunn Fremont, Bob Colacello, and Vito Schnabel

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