When the American Society of Magazine Editors moved this year’s National Magazine awards—the group’s annual round of self-congratulatory huzzahs—from a lunch at the Waldorf to a black-tie evening ceremony at Jazz at Lincoln Center, the understood intention was to sex up what had become fairly rote proceedings: a loud, crowded cocktail hour followed by an occasionally sleepy, occasionally satisfying award presentation with a pre-plated cold lunch many barely touched. It’s the kind of event people love to bemoan, but they can’t help coming back.
So last night’s show, which started with cocktails in and around the Allen Room followed by a ceremony in the Rose Theater, had people buzzing over the changes. (We heard both good and bad reviews.) At least one thing didn’t change: The preshow cocktail hour was still loud and crowded, and most people showed little interest in stopping their conversations to sit down for the show. “I’m deciding if I’m going to sit or hang out until later,” a woman explained to us, unbidden, a few minutes before the ceremony’s intended 7:30 PM start time, when less than half the crowd was seated. Then, her decision: “I’m going to hang out.”
But at 7:35 PM, a seven-piece jazz band appeared in the aisles, blasting “When the Saints Go Marching In” and effectively drowning out the conversations. Unable to talk over the trombone, everyone sat down for the ceremony, which proceeded much as it has in years past. Some old standbys won (Esquire, The New Yorker), as did some upstarts (The Virginia Quarterly Review, Backpacker), and some moments had the crowd sounding sleepy (about two-thirds into the show) and satisfied (Time editor Jim Kelly’s general excellence win). But sexy? Maybe not.
Posted 05.10.06
So last night’s show, which started with cocktails in and around the Allen Room followed by a ceremony in the Rose Theater, had people buzzing over the changes. (We heard both good and bad reviews.) At least one thing didn’t change: The preshow cocktail hour was still loud and crowded, and most people showed little interest in stopping their conversations to sit down for the show. “I’m deciding if I’m going to sit or hang out until later,” a woman explained to us, unbidden, a few minutes before the ceremony’s intended 7:30 PM start time, when less than half the crowd was seated. Then, her decision: “I’m going to hang out.”
But at 7:35 PM, a seven-piece jazz band appeared in the aisles, blasting “When the Saints Go Marching In” and effectively drowning out the conversations. Unable to talk over the trombone, everyone sat down for the ceremony, which proceeded much as it has in years past. Some old standbys won (Esquire, The New Yorker), as did some upstarts (The Virginia Quarterly Review, Backpacker), and some moments had the crowd sounding sleepy (about two-thirds into the show) and satisfied (Time editor Jim Kelly’s general excellence win). But sexy? Maybe not.
Posted 05.10.06
