An auditorium filled with elementary school kids in rural Virginia, so excited they can hardly contain themselves – they know some of the high schoolers playing in the jazz band and are moved by the music playing onstage.
A theatre in Columbia, Missouri filled to capacity because a New York City Opera came to town to perform.
Wynton Marsalis and Paul Simon, performing a fusion of their respective music styles to a sold-out house in Lincoln Center, NYC
What do they all have in common? Someone behind the scenes worked really hard to make these performances happen. This first two “pictures” above were from my past lives as a Band Director and a Company Manager. That last “picture” was the work of my friend Lisa Schiff, outgoing Chair of the Board for Jazz at Lincoln Center.
Last week, Lincoln Center honored Lisa for her dedicated and influential work, always humbly acting behind the scenes, making countless performances happen – Over the past eleven years, she has helped raise over $300 million in funds that preserve and give life to one of our truly American institutions. Not only did her fundraising help build a Mecca for jazz but it also helped support a musical outreach program, led by Mr. Marsalis, that is second to none.
Lincoln Center’s recognition of Lisa got me thinking about all the folks like her, who through their extensive networking, constant hard work, and philanthropic spirits, make our world’s non-profit organizations run. Without their work, there would be no theatre, dance, music or art museums, no parks, no recreation, no food banks, and very few community services. Our collective quality of life would be significantly poorer without those who selflessly give back to their communities.
So here’s to Lisa and her peers. Lisa is one of the most generous, genuine, and fabulous people I know. In her tribute, she was described her as “the perfect balance of grace and grit ” She is inspiring and people like her are one of the reasons I work so hard, so that I can strive to give back to my world too.
The Secret Ingredient: Give and then give some more.
I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it…. People think pleasing God is all God cares about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back. -Alice Walker, The Color Purple, 1982
I just returned from visiting flower growers in Holland and am here to report that spring is pretty much on schedule in Northern Europe. It was still cold and the trees were just starting to sprout. The famed, glorious tulip fields were beginning to color up and turn from rich green to strips of color swathing the landscape in rivers of vibrancy. It’s all very much unlike here, where we had spring surprise us many weeks early – only to reveal her true nature as a commitment-phobe by backing off and letting the chill reappear. The unexpected return of cold temperatures preserved the spring buds and blossoms longer than usual, giving us a much-desired (can you tell I love spring?) though slightly confusing bonus spring!
It reminded me of a simple truth we all learn early in life: Mother Nature is always in control, and she doesn’t work according to our schedule. Another reminder? Blooming branches. They are the joy and bane of everyone in my business.
Joy, because they give tremendous visual volume to any event, causing every bride who sees them to swoon – they are the perfect balance of girly, romantic fluff (blooms) supported by a manly restraint (branches) that no groom could deny. If I could get blooming branches like the ones we used in the Chuppa pictured above whenever I wanted, I’m pretty sure they would be featured at every single wedding we design…for good reason.
Bane, because I can’t get blooming branches year-round. Mother Nature only graces us with their presence on one, maybe two weekends each year, during those few radiant days when spring is at her very best. Being in the service industry, event designers want nothing more than to give our clients, well, everything. Sadly, Nature is a fickle (albeit beautiful) woman who leaves us with little choice but to disappoint October brides desperately dreaming of blooming branches and New Year’s Eve shindig throwers pining for peonies.
Some may see Mother Nature’s seemingly selfish schedule as an annoyance, but I see it as a blessing in disguise. It forces us to stop, let go of a little bit of control (we could all benefit from doing this a bit more) and appreciate what’s here right now. In this modern world of endless opportunities for instant gratification (television on demand anyone?), I find it refreshing that She is still in charge. Living here in NYC, going about our busy schedules come hell or high water, it can be hard to remember that we’re in nature at all. We are.
Today there are more beautiful flowers available, more days of the year, in more places, than at any time in history. The power of science and technology has given us the bad habit of expecting whatever we want whenever we want it. Well here’s a thought: if you have your heart set on a February wedding but long to have a centerpiece made of blooming cherry tree blossoms without breaking the bank, why not consult with Momma instead? She may not be able to give you the branches you want, but you can rest assured she’s got a whole set of gorgeous, exquisite blooms you can pick from – there’s an array of lovely options 365 days a year.
With her time-tested tools of temperature, light and moisture, Mother Nature dictates when we can have her best and most glorious beauties. Instead of arguing with her, enjoy them while you can.
The Secret Ingredient: Stop and smell the roses.
P.S. When you’re done, enjoy this very apropos commercial for Margarine.
The Parkhurst in my Hometown in Virginia was one of the few restaurants to get a front page write-up in the Washington Post. Originally from San Francisco, Chef George Weddleton and his wife Nita had managed to turn an old 60’s road-side motel into a destination that served some of the most amazing meals I’d ever had, along with a wine list celebrated by the best in the business.
One of the traditions they held was “family meal,” which was served to the staff after everything was clean and set for the next day. Now before I go on, it begs mentioning that one of the “funny” things about George was his total hatred of mechanical dishwashers. At his insistence, every glass, every utensil, every dish, pot and pan—every thing in that restaurant that ever was graced by a morsel of food was washed by hand. So you can imagine that, as a result, family meal often ended well into the morning hours most nights.
One summer night, I think it was in 1981, everyone was gone except George and me, and we sat down for a breather after we finished cleaning up. I guess he must have noticed I was acting strangely and so he just blurted out “what the hell’s wrong with you?” And I was caught so off guard that I just started talking.
While it had its wonderful moments, growing up in the mountains of Virginia instills a certain set of expectations that puts pressure on you as a teen – pressure to be like everyone else, even when you know you’re not. When I realized that the person I was, wasn’t like most of my friends, the pressure to give in and be what they expected me to be started to really get to me.
“I don’t know who I am,” I told George.
I trusted him a lot and I told him that night that it seemed I needed to decide if I was gay, or bi, or maybe I just would decide to be straight, or maybe I just didn’t know what I was feeling – and the tears started to well up… when suddenly he just stopped me. “Why do you have to BE any of those things?” he said. “What’s wrong with just being David? Shut up and just be YOU!” You could have knocked me over with a feather. His words shook me to the core. I realized that I was trying to be what everyone thought David should be instead of just being David. George and I had our moments of bull-headedness throughout the years, but I love and am in debt to him for his many life lessons that got me to where I am today – especially the one that changed me forever.
