For the most part, I’ve led a sheltered life, so every once in a while I try to get out of my comfort zone and learn about the world around me. Last Thursday, I went to the National Black Fine Art Show (February is Black History Month, in case you forgot), and then to the American Society for Yad Vashem’s winter gala.
The National Black Fine Art Show benefits the Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts, and was staged in the penthouse of the 7 W New York. Sponsors included The New York Times, Essence magazine (this was my second event with them in a week), and Macy’s.
I never know where to begin when I cover these big shows with booths and exhibits. First things first, the busts and headdresses by Woodrow Nash—who showed with the Rage Gallery and attended in a black porkpie hat—were among my favorite pieces of the night. He’s a friendly chap who does these intricately pieced sculptures; the ones I liked weigh 200 to 300 pounds and are made from thousands of bits of polished ceramic strung like giant necklaces of stone. Impressive.
There was a gallery from Zimbabwe and they get the award for coming the farthest. But the highlight of the show was a group of three busts by Richmond Barthé, whose work is also in the Met. Ranging in price from $65,000 to $110,000, the bronzes were cast in very small lots, and if I could take one home, I would pick Josephine Baker. Mr. Barthé grew up in New York and was sponsored by the actor James Garner, who you may remember from The Rockford Files. I certainly do.
I want to talk about the flowers for a minute, which were designed by Pollen Nation. There were only a few big arrangements around the buffet, but so imaginative, with bent reeds, green anthuriums, water orchids, and Art Deco black vases. Have you noticed that everyone is doing the thing with the ring of flowers around the lip of the vase? Apparently that’s in now. There were calla lillies and white fluffy flowers, and it was the first time I have seen calla lillies mixed with anything that remotely worked.
The Young Leadership Associates for Yad Vashem chose the Metropolitan Pavilion for their winter gala, and good thing too, because there were hundreds and hundreds of people, all young and prosperous-looking. The organization certainly knows how to turn them out.
The invitation promised, “Dietary restrictions will be observed,” which I hoped meant that my appetite would be magically curbed but in actuality translated to a kosher dinner. And what do the young, prosperous Jews like to eat? Apparently everything. I haven’t seen so much food since … oh, who knows when.
There were two sushi stations and a place where cooks would assemble your choice of pasta and sauce with little flame burners. You want meat? They got it: two carvers with three different kinds of meat each, including corned beef. At one point, the meat station was replenished from the back by a man with two food trays that must have carried 20 pounds of fresh hot steaming meat. This was either mouthwatering or repulsive, depending on how you view hot slabs of steaming meat. I liked it.
Of course, there was a slider station with hot dogs and things. When, when I ask, will we be freed from the tyranny of sliders? I saw big bready rolls that looked like they could choke a horse.
The bars had guacamole with chips, which was a bit sloppy and tricky, truth be told, but that didn’t stop me from helping myself twice. While I munched on salty snacks, I noticed the delicious kosher chardonnay had a long note on its bottle with details of the vintner and the family tradition of the wine.
The passed nibbles were nothing to write home about. There was a coffee station, with some sort of cookie stand, but it was too early for me to go there.
Exhausted by sampling so much food, I meandered over to the entry hall, where Judith Ripka was selling her jewelry (another second for me in two weeks). Have you seen this yet? She sets up her jewelry with bid sheets, silent-auction style, on consignment if you will, and then if no one bids on the stuff, she just packs it up and takes it home. At both events, she moved a few pieces. Listen, these days be grateful for anything, but I guess I’d feel better if they disclosed the percentage that goes to the charity, which they did not when I asked.
Someone told me that Yad Vashem’s mission was remembrance of Holocaust victims. Fittingly, there was an impressive museum-modeled display of storyboards talking about the lives of young children of the Holocaust. It took me about 15 minutes to read a third of the big panels that sat on easels under the titles “Children’s Play” and “Creativity in the Holocaust.” During this time, not a single other partygoer ventured over to look, despite the exhibit’s central location. I checked back later and was disappointed to find the posters alone again. I hope some of the text ended up in the gift bag.
