The simply set tables
Photo: Ted Kruckel for BizBash
Just about the smartest thing the Alzheimer's Drug Discovery Foundation organizers did at last Thursday's dinner (and they did a number of smart things) was host their cocktails and dinner reception in the galleries of Sotheby's just preceding the Impressionist sale.
Planners of upscale parties, take note; this is a win-win.I knew this trick because Sotheby's was my client for a few years (during the Taubman transition from poohbah to prisoner, what fun). I saw how important and valuable artwork on the walls adds a frisson of elitism that no amount of decorations and champagne can match (and they let you drink nearby, too, though no red vino mais bien sure). I threw an event there once for Ansel Adams's photography foundation, Aperture, with Joni Mitchell as the boldest name (she's hard to book: she wanted a private plane she could smoke in—you find one), and it was one of my proudest and most fun evenings.
During cocktails for the Alzheimer's foundation, you got to wander around $200 million worth of artwork. (That estimate is based on last year's take.) There was a Picasso sculpture (advertising legend Laurel Cutler's favorite). Then there was one of those Degas dancers. And neither is the planned top-dollar grabber. That seems to be a Fernand Leger cubist canvas Etude Pour La Femme en Bleu. And hidden in a back hallway, where I wait for caterer Great Performances' Jill Cole to bring me a menu, I spotted a tiny Renoir.
For a minute I felt cultured and artistic.
The two hosts were Leonard Lauder and Nancy Corzine, again both former clients. The Alzheimer's Drug Discovery Foundation is affiliated with the Institute for the Study of Aging, which the Estée Lauder family founded. Nancy Corzine is a high-end Los Angeles-based decorator, furniture maker, and fabric vendor. She provided plain white linens for the party that one touch revealed to be divine.
Centerpieces were rose bunches that were all one color per table. The only thing I didn't love were the pewter chargers with bas-relief borders—too busy.
Great Performances became the house cuisine purveyor a few years ago, after Tom Colicchio's (he's the Craft restaurants guy as well as the smart but sour Top Chef judge) Bid restaurant on the ground floor failed. Great Performances took over the cafeteria and is the house caterer, although if push comes to shove, I gather you can bring your own hors d'oeuvre supplier if you must.
The service was impeccable. A nice lady kept pressing the notoriously slow elevator button to minimize grumbling. As you disembarked the lift, two waiters were right there, which I think is so important. The twist? They were proffering foodie bits, not champers and water (which, to be fair, were only a few feet away on waiter trays in the lobby). Jill explained to me that because there are so few places to serve food with all the multimillion-dollar art, this was a safe bet. Everyone is different, but I don't like a canapé before a sip, do you?
Trays of both mediums were generously passed, to the point of satiation, which is rare. And the staff was both friendly and efficient. I don't like bubbly, and a waitress immediately brought me a white wine.
One could quibble. I always do. The gougères (cheese puffs, dear, si vous ne parle francais) were lukewarm and featured a dab of unneeded apricot. For me a gougère needs to be almost piping hot; the Gruyère should, too. The tasty foie gras was a little skimpy on its crouton, and there were so many. I would have doubled the liver per bread ratio and watched customers melt with glee.
Dinner was rack of lamb, but I didn't stay. It sounded good, though, and I will pay more attention to Great Performances.
Sotheby's has a new but seasoned PR gal at the helm, Susan Ollinick, formerly of People magazine. I asked her for a room rental list, and of course she replied there was no such thing. Each event is custom priced and designed, which, at Sotheby's, is just as it should be, I suppose.
So if you have a high-end host trying to wow high rollers, have I made it clear that this is a venue that delivers? I hope so.
Planners of upscale parties, take note; this is a win-win.I knew this trick because Sotheby's was my client for a few years (during the Taubman transition from poohbah to prisoner, what fun). I saw how important and valuable artwork on the walls adds a frisson of elitism that no amount of decorations and champagne can match (and they let you drink nearby, too, though no red vino mais bien sure). I threw an event there once for Ansel Adams's photography foundation, Aperture, with Joni Mitchell as the boldest name (she's hard to book: she wanted a private plane she could smoke in—you find one), and it was one of my proudest and most fun evenings.
During cocktails for the Alzheimer's foundation, you got to wander around $200 million worth of artwork. (That estimate is based on last year's take.) There was a Picasso sculpture (advertising legend Laurel Cutler's favorite). Then there was one of those Degas dancers. And neither is the planned top-dollar grabber. That seems to be a Fernand Leger cubist canvas Etude Pour La Femme en Bleu. And hidden in a back hallway, where I wait for caterer Great Performances' Jill Cole to bring me a menu, I spotted a tiny Renoir.
For a minute I felt cultured and artistic.
The two hosts were Leonard Lauder and Nancy Corzine, again both former clients. The Alzheimer's Drug Discovery Foundation is affiliated with the Institute for the Study of Aging, which the Estée Lauder family founded. Nancy Corzine is a high-end Los Angeles-based decorator, furniture maker, and fabric vendor. She provided plain white linens for the party that one touch revealed to be divine.
Centerpieces were rose bunches that were all one color per table. The only thing I didn't love were the pewter chargers with bas-relief borders—too busy.
Great Performances became the house cuisine purveyor a few years ago, after Tom Colicchio's (he's the Craft restaurants guy as well as the smart but sour Top Chef judge) Bid restaurant on the ground floor failed. Great Performances took over the cafeteria and is the house caterer, although if push comes to shove, I gather you can bring your own hors d'oeuvre supplier if you must.
The service was impeccable. A nice lady kept pressing the notoriously slow elevator button to minimize grumbling. As you disembarked the lift, two waiters were right there, which I think is so important. The twist? They were proffering foodie bits, not champers and water (which, to be fair, were only a few feet away on waiter trays in the lobby). Jill explained to me that because there are so few places to serve food with all the multimillion-dollar art, this was a safe bet. Everyone is different, but I don't like a canapé before a sip, do you?
Trays of both mediums were generously passed, to the point of satiation, which is rare. And the staff was both friendly and efficient. I don't like bubbly, and a waitress immediately brought me a white wine.
One could quibble. I always do. The gougères (cheese puffs, dear, si vous ne parle francais) were lukewarm and featured a dab of unneeded apricot. For me a gougère needs to be almost piping hot; the Gruyère should, too. The tasty foie gras was a little skimpy on its crouton, and there were so many. I would have doubled the liver per bread ratio and watched customers melt with glee.
Dinner was rack of lamb, but I didn't stay. It sounded good, though, and I will pay more attention to Great Performances.
Sotheby's has a new but seasoned PR gal at the helm, Susan Ollinick, formerly of People magazine. I asked her for a room rental list, and of course she replied there was no such thing. Each event is custom priced and designed, which, at Sotheby's, is just as it should be, I suppose.
So if you have a high-end host trying to wow high rollers, have I made it clear that this is a venue that delivers? I hope so.
