Marie’s Shelf

My friend, Marie Vogt. died last week, at the age of ninety-nine.  She was a remarkable woman, founding the Toledo Ballet in 1939 (let that sink in for a moment), and mounting a production of “The Nutcracker” a couple of years later, which I’m told represents the longest-running consecutive annual production of “The Nutcracker” in the nation.

Having known Marie for fewer than ten years, I defer to others who have known her for a much longer period of time to reflect on her legacy of delivering the arts and arts education to the Toledo community.  There is no doubt about the significance of her contributions on those fronts.

Instead, I’d like to recall my personal relationship with Marie, which began seven or eight years ago, when I was asked to join the board of the Toledo Ballet.  Marie, at that point in her nineties, was an active board member, never shy about sharing her opinions.  She typically eschewed such honorary titles as, “Founder”, or “Emeritus”, although she was quite savvy in recognizing the merits of deploying them when there was promotional or development benefit to be garnered for her beloved Toledo Ballet.

Whenever I saw Marie, she was always solicitous, asking me about my work, and, given that I worked for the local newspaper publisher, never failed to comment on articles appearing in that day’s newspaper, and offered her thoughts.  She enjoyed discussing sports; LeBron James was a particular favorite of hers, during his time with the Cleveland Cavaliers.

Marie had long ago recognized the disconnect between the arts and the business communities; people operating primarily in one sphere or the other spoke different languages, and viewed the world differently.  Likely her husband, Ted, had helped to expose that chasm.  In fact, Marie gifted to me a copy of a book she published in 1973, entitled, “The Businessman’s Ballet Book”, intended to bridge that gap, and enable husbands, boyfriends, and fathers to better understand the world of ballet enjoyed by their loved ones.  Thanks to Marie, I’m able to freely discuss and admire the proper execution of an arabesque, or a jete’.

Marie was a more dutiful friend to me than I was to her.  She was attentive to the practice of sending handwritten (and, actually hand-drawn) notes frequently – a practice encouraged by my mother when I was a youngster, but which apparently never really took hold.  I’ll admit that I struggled a bit reading her handwriting, but I could certainly detect the warmth and kindness in these notes.  And, as I suggested, she had personally drawn these note-cards, as well as crafting the illustrations included in her 1973 book – a true renaissance woman, indeed.

I had the good fortune to be in attendance, as she was honored several times in recent years.  One such award was the “Governor’s Award for the Arts Ohio”, presented by the Ohio Arts Council; another was as a “Woman of Achievement” from the YWCA.  My memory of the Governor’s Award event was of dining with Marie and others during that trip to Columbus, during which she dug-in with a bone-in ribeye and a dirty martini.  I got the sense she could adapt to virtually any social situation, and be comfortable, just as she was that evening.  Assisting her with getting to and from the stage to be honored was a task I welcomed.  She referred to me as one of her “boys”; being forty years her junior, I was proud to wear that title.

Perhaps by the time I got to know Marie, she had become the kinder, gentler Marie.  But, I certainly got the sense that she could be a tough taskmaster when it came to her craft.  She shared with me a story about casting The Nutcracker in the early days, and indicated that she had cast a young girl in the Clara role, in part due to a generous financial contribution provided to the Ballet by the girl’s father.  The following year, the girl had put on some weight, and in Marie’s opinion, was no longer Clara-material.  Her principled stance led her to cast a new Clara.  I never learned whether or not that action affected the Ballet’s pocketbook.

The evidence of the impact of Marie’s friendship is actually quite tangible for me.  In my office in the Pittsburgh area is a bookcase which features a shelf dedicated to my collection of those handwritten, hand-drawn notes, and my copy of “The Businessman’s Ballet Book” – it is simply, “Marie’s Shelf”, and I eagerly share my stories about Marie with visitors to my office.  I invite you to stop in some time to view it.

Thanks,

B.S.

Father’s Day Advice

1.  

Because Richard Milhous Nixon (yes, his middle name was co-opted by Matt Groening for a character in The Simpsons) signed a proclamation, as President in 1972, declaring Father’s Day a national holiday, I thought it would be appropriate to turn to him for advice to offer my children on Father’s Day.  Unfortunately, our 37th president offers slim pickings when it comes to inspiration for youngsters.  Or for adults, for that matter. 

Consider this one: “What starts the process, really, are laughs and slights and snubs when you are a kid. If your anger is deep enough and strong enough, you learn that you can change those attitudes by excellence, personal gut performance.”

Or, this gem: “Remember, always give your best. Never get discouraged. Never be petty. Always remember, others may hate you. But those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself.

And he actually said this as well: “I know you heard what you thought I said, but what I said isn’t what I meant.”  That truly is pretzel logic (shoutout to Steely Dan!)

Not exactly the kinds of things you’d offer to your child, as they dash onto the soccer field, or into the spelling bee fray.  

So I decided to go in a different direction – George Washington.  In addition to being a father, he was also the father of our country, right?  How can you go wrong with good old GW, eh? (setting aside the pesky issue of his being a slave-owner – I get why statues of Nathan Bedford Forrest – another fun middle name fact – this guy’s was utilized for the eponymous character in Forest Gump – need to be jettisoned, and Aunt Jemima is clearly offensive, but Eskimo Pies are delightful, and it seems an unnecessary step to eliminate, or re-brand them).

Now, this may not be the most memorable line George ever delivered (remember the cherry tree incident?), but it sure gives one pause, and makes one think: “A pack of jackasses led by a lion is superior to a pack of lions led by a jackass.”  I almost believe he was presciently thinking thirty-six presidents ahead when he uttered that bit of wisdom.

So, there you go, kids – sage advice for you on Father’s Day.  You’re welcome!

Thanks,

B.S.