Spoleto Festival USA Finale. Sunday, June 10, 2008. Middleton Place.
It was warm on Sunday. I had shade envy — walking around to shoot various picnics I kept wondering if other people’s spots weren’t cooler.
With the warm day and the concert not on the Great Lawn for the first time in ten years, only one lone couple was out from under the trees — with their umbrella lying on its side.
But a lot of what we like about the festival is that it pushes us a little. You know what I mean, you’d never cram in to the Cistern to see Sophocles but when it’s over you’re glad you did.
The heat served the same purpose – there’s no way the night would’ve seemed as nice if we all hadn’t have sweated first.
And we did sweat. The Finale wouldn’t be the Finale without the Great Schlep (see right).
The scene was typically atypical. Pigs in a blanket and fine silver. Frisbees, footballs, bocci balls and bon mots being thrown about. Firefly-tea-infused-vodka-with-lemonade, wine, beer, and jello shots being thrown back.
A cooler with the chorus to “Beer For My Horses” written on it was a red dot in the blue-state festival crowd. (The line of bumpers rattling over the plantation’s cow catchers displayed many a Democrat sticker.)
Just when you think Taylor Webb couldn’t get any cooler there is she is giving away her woven-reed fans.
Surely Sheila Lauffer, seven months pregnant, was feeling the heat but she didn’t show it. She and Lauren Sanchez had a long and fascinating conversation about smocking, transcripts are available in the bookstore.
We caught Manning and Barbara Williams headed into Middleton Foundation President Charles Duell’s private party in a ribboned-off area by the restaurant.
There was no announcement made about the show starting, so by the time we took our table, chairs, cooler, stroller and candelabra (and we had by no means the most elaborate picnic) back to the car and made our way to the hill, John Kennedy was already ten minutes into the concert.
At 8:40 it was still light (so it was key that we got our stuff packed away, because we always forget a flashlight) and the Ashley view was…insert your own adjective here. I like tremendous, to go with the always bombastic closer(Copland’s Third Symphony this year).
The stage lights shined on some smaller live oaks, much younger than the butterfly gardens reflecting them. They of course also shined on the young Spoleto Festival Orchestra, playing for their youngest audience of the fortnight. One fellow sat off to the left, legs crossed, meditating during the Philip Glass pieces.
Private school alum Jonathan Sanchez grew up in Charlotte, taking cotillion and smoking Camel Lights.
.jpg){kind=link}