It's just a play...

The annual ArtsFund luncheon in Seattle is one of those “can’t miss” affairs. Every corner of our art world is represented. Most organizations and major underwriters have their own tables. Over a 1000 supporters of the arts are in the house. It’s an arts “love in”.

This year, I was honored to sit with my friends from the Seattle Symphony as their world renowned Music Director Gerard Schwarz was presented the lifetime achievement award. It was particularly moving to have his son Julian perform a very engaging Handel piece on the cello with violinist Elisa Barston. For sure, it moved Gerry.

Being at the luncheon prompted me to reflect on how the arts have affected my life. My interests have always been wide ranging. I had a fourth grade teacher who loved the Renaissance and took every opportunity to tell us that pursuing all of your interests was very important to experiencing a full life. It did not take me long to immerse myself in music, art, performing, science, sports, astronomy, world culture and language, which made my parents scratch their heads. Why in the world was I taking an interest in all these subjects? A short attention span? I hope not. There was just so much out there to learn and more importantly experience.

As I sat listening to Handel’s Passacaglia, I was reminded of an incident in high school that was a tipping point for me. As my teen years progressed, I developed more than a passing interest in writing, music and language. But before I knew it, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat consumed me and sports became my life. After all, you didn’t get a cool sweater and jacket with letters, bars and pins all over them from the Spanish club, or the Glee club or for writing for the school newspaper. It seemed as though sports were everything. Then along came the class play. That sounded like fun. “The Diary of Anne Frank” gave this young Richie Cunningham (“Happy Days”) a chance to recite a lot of Hebrew and make some pretty heady decisions as Anne’s father.

The play occurred during basketball season and that year I was in Indiana where, as I’ve said before, basketball is next to Godliness…as long as God makes the ball go through the hoop for you. I was always a team player in sports. I never gave the coaches a hard time. But then a note was handed to me in class that said the coach wanted to see me BEFORE practice. Not a good sign, I thought.

When I reported to his office, the coach barely looked up. After making me sweat for a couple of minutes, he said, “I understand you want to be in this play.” “Yes, I do. It’s just a play and I thought it might be fun.” Then the lecture started. This wasn’t supposed to be fun. This was about discipline and learning to respect others. You can’t play a sport and then “waste” your time “goofing around” in this “silly play”.

Wow! I was floored. Why was this so bad? I don’t think I had ever felt the need to stand up for myself so strongly. And why I did then, I’ll never know. But the words came out of my mouth without hesitation. “How am I doing on the court, Coach? If I’m doing ok and I don’t miss practice and I keep up my grades then how can you tell me that I can’t be in the play and still play basketball?” Silence. “Are you going to cut me from the team half way through the season if I want to be in the play?” More silence. Then,“Well…your grades are good. Mind you, if you miss five minutes of practice for this play, you’re done.” “I won’t, Coach.” I’m sure I was shaking. I know I thought my head was going to blow up. I turned slowly and walked out.

Times were pretty medieval then. Thank goodness the renaissance mentality has crept back into our lives. But never another word was said about the encounter. Oh, I thought the coach worked me harder than everyone else after that, but, if he did, I probably needed it. We had a great basketball season and the play was fantastic! My Hebrew wasn’t bad, either.

Turns out, it was not “just a play”. It was a little piece of freedom that my fourth grade teacher gave me. Finding those things in life that excite and stimulate you is an adventure that everyone should experience. That’s what I think the arts are about. They are very personal. They exercise our minds. They fill in the blanks in our lives. They make us complete.

That’s what keeps me coming back to the ArtsFund Luncheon. It’s about being with people who have found the value and the emotions in art. We can’t all be artists but we can enrich our lives by being around them, by thinking about them, marveling in them and, perhaps, even participating. What would our lives be without the arts? Pretty dull and grey, I think.

As I listened to the moving Handel piece, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and tears filled my eyes. Whether it’s the beauty of a new ballet, the excitement of a Broadway musical, a dramatic new play on stage, an astonishing display of glass art or even hearing Kurt Cobain scream at you from the wall of the Art Museum, your life has more meaning from these encounters. I love the arts…and the Seahawks too!

Seattle...such a place!

A few days ago, I was backstage at McCaw Hall after opening night of the Nutcracker ballet. We were there to toast the 25th anniversary of this production which is regarded by many as the quintessential ballet experience for everyone. In fact, this production is one of most stunning creative collaborations that has ever been brought to the stage at the holidays. Kent Stowell, choreographer and then co-artistic director with wife, Francia Russell, joined forces with famed illustrator and designer Maurice Sendak to a create a magnificent event that rivals the very best stage productions in the world. As we lifted our glasses, it made me think about the road we have come down in this community over the past 25 years and what a remarkable trip it’s been.
If it doesn’t show, please know that I am biased. In 1978, my wife Jane was invited to join the board of directors of Pacific Northwest Ballet, then a fledgling company that was an off-shoot of the Seattle Opera. And she’s given her volunteer life to the organization to this day. It was exciting back then to feel the energy growing as Kent and Francia shaped and formed the company. The dancers came ready for anything and would often join with us volunteers to give backstage tours, making it up as we went along. We even did an event in the rehearsal studio called “Ballet for Two Left Feet” where people like me actually danced with Kent and Francia’s instruction…I was best at bowing. When we did “Ballet for Four Left Feet” the next year, we novices danced with real dancers from the company. It was then that I found out just how light ballerinas are. Let’s just say my lifts were a bit too ambitious a couple of times…I may have scared them a little but no one was hurt.
Five years later, Kent Stowell’s Nutcracker debuted with eye-boggling sets and costumes by Maurice Sendak. This was a transitional and landmark event for Pacific Northwest Ballet. There are a handful of companies across the country that critics give credence to and then we were ready to become one of them. The toast that night was with plastic cups but it could not have been more fulfilling. Still there was the heart-stopping moment when the Christmas tree starts to grow…the journey up was far less dependable then than it is today. But that night, this company stepped into the spotlight on the world ballet stage and made their presence known. It seemed to me that the dancers even impressed themselves.
As the decades have passed, Seattle has blossomed and grown in so many ways. Then the Mariners were new and so was the Kingdome. The Seahawks were the talk of the town. But it was the arts that were carving out a more revered place in our community and the ballet was the new kid on the block. I drew my newest client Citicorp into the fray to help finance that first production. My young company even produced the first souvenir program, which we designed and wrote by committee on Kent and Francia’s living room floor. The private-public marriage with the performing arts in this community is a thing to behold. DDB, with the astute community vision of Ron Elgin, has always been there to lend a hand to the Ballet, as well as, to many other arts organizations…and we are not the exception, we’re the rule.
Today, Seattle and the Pacific Northwest Ballet are the envy of almost everyone outside of Manhattan. Our arts community shines in every corner and, as a place to live, our city is sumptuous. Opening night of this year’s Nutcracker brought the memories of the past quarter century flooding back. It was such a gala evening in such a magnificent hall. The dancers were so “on” that it gave you chills to watch them. Pacific Northwest Ballet says so much about Seattle. It’s like our personality. It’s like our life. We just know we can do it ourselves, whatever it is. We like being on the edge and we know how to live…even if we are “in the woods”. I'm so proud. What a place we live in!
Posted by Dan McConnell on December 11, 2008 4:48 PM Permalink