After complaining bitterly about our vendors, I had lovely conversations today with two of them. How annoying! Where is my righteous indignation now?!
Even though I hadn't ever spoken to either of these vendors, they were totally familiar with our wedding. One told me she knows our farmers/hosts and they are all excited about our celebration, and the other said she's planning to visit our site tomorrow. What an unexpectedly high level of customer service . . .
In other vendor-twilight-zone moments, I received these five quotes for our remaining printing needs: $492, $320, $286, $251, $161. Those are five radically different prices for the exact same print job! What gives?
Showing posts with label Wedding Planning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wedding Planning. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
You Better Shop Around
Monday, September 29, 2008
Just As Unique As You Are
I'll admit to reading wedding blogs and watching wedding shows and skimming wedding magazines in the check-out line. It's a fun thing that one is only allowed to do (justifiably) for a few months. It's as if you only get one Christmas in your whole life - you maximize and exploit the opportunity.
In the spirit of over-doing it, it's great to try to get wedding ideas from the mainstream, heterosexual-dominated Matrimonial Industrial Complex. Our wedding will be a lot like straight people's weddings, with the flowers and the music and catering and stuff. Why not take some cues from their awesome celebrations?
But this morning, I learned from a particularly bizarre forum on Weddingbee that apparently many straight people don't want to share their wedding media with us, and they certainly don't want to highlight gay people's experiences on their websites. Apparently bandwidth - and compassion and justice - are in short supply.
But we need our space on those websites and magazines and TV shows - and it's not just to make a political point. Until there is enough gay-specific wedding media out there, you awesome/crazy brides have got to share with us!
Their "cover" argument is that highlighting gay weddings creates a "separate but equal" situation - that since gay people's weddings are just like straight people's weddings, there's no need to give them their own online space. Obviously, this is a strawman. It doesn't take a minute's thought to see why a gay bride or groom might specifically want to look at pictures of a gay wedding.
Here are some of the tricky questions that we have had to navigate, with little guidance from the Knot or Martha Stewart or those ridiculous shows on Oxygen and We:
What do two grooms wear? Should they match or contrast or complement each other? What have other grooms done, and what looks good? Where on earth can we find enough good pictures of enough beautiful weddings to get some ideas?
How do two grooms dance together? Should we play it up, or play it down? Choreography? Just boogie around like a couple of fools? What does a two-groom foxtrot look like? Beautiful or ridiculous? Where can we see examples?
How do two grooms walk up the aisle? How can we capture the traditional spirit of the wedding procession, while acknowledging what's different, but doing it in a simple and subtle way? What have other couples - male and female - done? Who has the pictures and who can explain their line of reasoning?
What are some "new traditions" to replace or supplement the old (but fun!) hetero-normative ones, like the bouquet and garter tosses and the classic Midwestern Shot Line? There must be hundreds of stories of what worked and what didn't - we need to see options that fit our style and our celebration. Show us!
So, we're not being greedy or "political" when we ask for something like Queer Wedding Wednesdays. Maybe there's a money-making idea out there for me to establish my own Queer Weddings version of the Knot (hey - I'm patenting that right this second).
I can't deny that looking at pictures of same-sex and other queer weddings brings the political issues of marriage equality and justice right to the forefront, right in front of your face as you're trying to do something as light-hearted as choose a letterpress printer or a cake flavor. But that's exactly the point - letting us share in the fun in a way that works for everybody will quickly and finally lay all these tensions and debates to rest.
Where are my awesome brides at? LOVE YOU LADIES!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Frendors and Venemies - Pick Up Your Phones!
I raise money for a living. I have done so for several years. Some parts of my job are difficult - writing long proposals, organizing big events, preparing complicated budgets. But perhaps the easiest and most important part of my job is returning phone calls. It is often the tiny, crucial difference between yes and no from a donor. I want to teach our vendors the why and how of using telephones to make money.
To assess their current competence with regard to telephony, I have created this short quiz:
1. Let's say you are the manager of a transportation company. You receive an email from a customer confirming coach service for a date four weeks from today. You reply with a terse email demanding a phone call and immediate payment. The customer quickly dials the number you have provided. What do you do? Do you a.) answer the phone or b.) let it go to voicemail? If you answered b.), do you ignore the message or reply?
2. Let's say you are the manager of a wine store. An engaged couple has visited your store to talk about wine selections for their upcoming wedding. Of course, you are extremely courteous and helpful in discussing their preferences and their budget. You send them home with a few bottles to taste, and tell them to email you with their entire order within a week. You provide the store's email address and emphasize that they should write, "Attn: Manager" in the subject line. They send you an order amounting to almost $2,000 of wine - a major and serious purchase for this young couple. Do you reply to thank them and confirm their order and arrange for payment? Or, do you leave them hanging with no response for 5, 6, 7 days???
3. Let's say you are the menswear manager of a small, posh boutique. An engaged couple has ordered custom formalwear for their wedding. They are prepared to spend more on these garments than they have ever spent for anything other than their car. After they place their order, let's say you make a little forgivable mistake, and forget to send it along to the workshop. But, that's okay! You fix the problem in plenty of time. Later, one of the grooms phones you to check on the delivery date. You say, "They have not arrived yet, but I'll check on them, and call you right back!" What do you do? Do you check on it and call back right away? Or do you ignore the question and never call back at all???
I know some of these questions may be tricky for neophytes, luddites and (apparently) people who make their living through sales. But try your best! There could be a career in it!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The Pints Go Marzen In
A few days ago we realized that, while we had spent a fair amount of time trying to choose wines to serve, we had spent relatively little time thinking about beer. We didn't want to be lazy and serve Corona or some crap like that. And while my love and admiration for Yuengling is greater than should be allowable for a mass-produced domestic lager, the committee voted it down. And by "committee" I mean Emerson.
So we toyed around with the idea of serving local craft brews, which fits in very well with our focus on locally produced and sustainable food choices. But while the Triangle actually has a great selection and variety of microbrews, they tend to run close to 10 bucks a six-pack. Add the 75c "corking" fee per bottle if we choose not to get Heinekens from the caterer (like that would even be a choice) and we have another case of the committee voting in the negative. And by "committee" I mean me.
So if you can't go with the oldest beer in the country, and you can't go local, what's left? Seasonal! We're both suckers for Oktoberfestbiers, and a pale lager that's not over-hopped seemed perfect for a late summer / early fall wedding. But with so many craft beers as well as major labels making a beer they call "Oktoberfest", exactly how do you choose?...
Beer tasting! Last weekend Emerson I and trucked our way over to the beer store (a chore, I know), and snatched up every beer labeled "Oktoberfest" or that had some sort of visual aid on the bottle that implied we should be drinking it in October, such as an orange leaf or a scarecrow. And then we sat down in front of the Mets game (watched them kick the Phillies' collected asses, but I digress) and tasted away. With notes!
Almost every beer we tried would have sufficed, since we culled the obvious losers at the store, but we pretty much landed on two. First, Spaten. Made in the traditional Marzen style, it's pale with just enough sweetness to balance out the light hops. It's truly refreshing and a quintessential Oktoberfestbier. (Of course, nothing else in this wedding is German and importing twelve-ounce bottles from across the Atlantic isn't exactly sustainable, but I refuse to dwell upon this fact any longer than this parenthetical statement). Our second choice isn't technically an Oktoberfestbier, though to it's credit it doesn't claim to be: Redhook Late Harvest. A classic American red ale, it was full flavored yet smooth; should be a great choice to go with dinner, especially if the weather is on the cooler side. Also, it's from New Hampshire; the connection should be obvious.
Now, I suppose this also an appropriate time to wax nostalgic over my halcyon days as a study abroad student and my October excursion to Munich and the Hofbrauhaus, a madcap adventure that I'm sure was entirely unique to me and my buddy Adam and that no other college student experienced in the years leading up to, or the years following, that fateful trip where I drank beer out of comically gigantic glasses with 2,000 other American and English college students and which is undeniably the most authentic experience one can possibly have in a foreign country. But I won't mention it, because it has little to do with my big gay wedding 12 years later. Although I am now vaguely inspired to start a new blog all about the utterly unique and unprecedented experiences I had in college...
The Real Meaning of Nonplussed
We are now projecting attendance in the 80-88 range. Down from 105 last week (and as many as 115 earlier this summer). I guess this is the double-edged sword of a "destination" wedding. It's plenty of people to have a good time - but still feels a little disappointing.
The upside is, I am no longer the least bit stressed about the budget. The downside is, I'm worried that the scale of some of our choices (especially the tent) is too big for this party now.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Crafty!
For each weekend left until the wedding, we have little projects, mostly arts and crafts. Thankfully, we know that all the really big stuff is covered (catering, venue, music, ceremony). I'm glad we got those things out of the way so we could feel free to try some slightly outlandish (for us) things that might fail, knowing they are of minor importance.
Our first project was actually rather successful. We are using the very traditional two-card seating system. Each guest will pick up an "escort card" upon entering the reception tent, and then at each seat will be a "place card." I believe that giving people specific seating assignments helps alleviate the awkwardness of choosing your spot at a "mixed" table of friends and strangers.
It only came to mind recently that this system doesn't exactly lend itself to an outdoor wedding. Lots of little pieces of paper flying around is neither charming nor particularly "green." Fortunately, we are not the first people to seek a way to hold those little cards down.
Somewhere in my obsessive scouring of the internet's matrimonial treasures, I found a picture of an escort table crisscrossed with ribbon. It looked quite lovely – very formal, and a bit more interesting than some of the simpler options. I filed it away in my mind, but later – couldn't remember where I had seen it.
Fortunately, this project is more popular as a bulletin board than as a tabletop, so applicable examples and instructions were widely available. Also, Michael and I – although not artsy/craftsy – are also not total idiots. Thanks to the crafts store that bears my fiancé's name, we were able to assemble enough ribbon, scrap booking supplies and double-sided tape (no hot glue guns - that's a serious level of commitment) to make this happen.
The downside of this project is that I spent hours looking for the escort-table idea that I had remembered but failed to bookmark. In doing so, I saw so many - dozens upon dozens! - of great place card ideas. I felt so inferior to all these creative folks! I realized how many cool, creative projects we hadn't even tried. But I didn't want to change course. A simple, utilitarian display is infinitely more "our style" than any cool deployment of corks, pine cones, seashells or origami.
And I am sure that no one will show up to our wedding having just spent hours clicking through galleries at The Knot or MS Weddings. I hope not, anyway!
Update: Look what somebody else posted today (!): http://tinyurl.com/682455
No Postage Required if Mailed in the United States
I started to worry about seating charts. As in many things, I wanted to get a head start on what I know from experience can be a complicated and tedious task.
So, we developed a system. Using color-coded Post-It notes, we began arranging guests at 13 tables. It was fun at first. Give me a yellow! (Confirmed attendee.) Give me a blue! (Expected, but not confirmed). We need two purples over here! (Seat fillers, like at the Oscars.)
Unfortunately, fun turned to frustrating quickly. Do you want to know why - and how you can help?
Because we are waiting for 98 RSVPs! I know, I know - you have 9 days still to reply. But why wait?! Give us a hand people, send them in - especially if we don't know if we are holding 0, 2, 4 or 6 seats for you!
So, we tried and tried to figure out a seating chart and all the possible permutations of classmates, distant relatives and political confederates. As you can see from the visual evidence on the right, we eventually hit a wall and - shamefully! - resorted to drowning our sorrows in fruity cocktails.
Keep us out of rehab! Send your postage-paid RSVP cards today!
(n.b., These fruity cocktails are not a preview of what will be served at our wedding reception.)
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Time Keeps on Slippin', Slippin' . . .
Sorry for light posting this week! Hectic at work getting things done in advance of the long weekend. And, as I've mentioned before, it's hard to find the kernel of "interesting" in all the little projects we've been doing.
Tonight we're starting to make seating charts, and that should constitute the kind of emotionally piqued experience that results in an amusing post. We have bought all the equipment for our centerpieces and tested out the design (more on that soon). We also did our first (only?) big craft project, which was a grosgrain-criss-crossed surface for our escort table (more on that coming, too).
Big upcoming challenges include getting our wine selections finalized and ordered and dealing with the printing of our ceremony programs and menu cards.
Meanwhile, we have to buy a car, which is not the sort of task I like to modify with a meanwhile. Parting with anything more than $25 requires my unwavering (read: obsessive, anxious, neurotic) attention. I'm a little bit frugal.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Georgia On My Mind
This is not a political blog. Certainly the very subject of gay marriage touches on the political and we have occasionally waxed philosophical on current events and social relevance of marriage equality. But this is not a place for political musings, per se.
Except in this post, where I voice my wholehearted support for Russian dominance over pesky former Soviet republics. This might strike you as against my heretofore support for the plight of the Georgian people and my previous pronouncements of Russians as "sneaky" or "evil" or "drunks". But it will be more understandable if you realize that the Russians inevitably have their sights on Ukraine and you may remember that our dance instructor, Yuliya, is Ukrainian and as of last week it is my sincerest wish that Yuliya and all of her people suffer miserably in a Soviet gulag where they are forced to teach salsa to rhythmless orangutans with anger management deficiencies.
This is because Yuliya, during what I believe to have been a beautiful executed left-end leap into a well-structured twinkle, crinkled her nose with a look of disgust which suggested I had just shat directly onto her feet and said, in a tone unbecoming of a lady or educator, "Can you even hear the music?" This was promptly followed by a suggestion that from now on maybe Emerson should lead. Needless to say, Yuliya will not be invited to the wedding. And I am seriously considering launching an investigation into her credentials because in all my years of ballroom dancing I have never witnessed such an obvious lapse in judgment. This will only serve to inflate Emerson's already bloated ego as well as cause irreparable damage to my increasingly fragile self-image. I hope Yuliya is satisfied with herself.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Weekend Only a Mother Could Love
Mom is on her way from Georgia right now, to pitch in with all our final-stretch projects. I'm very excited to see the dress she picked out, in her signature green, and to shop for shoes and accessories to go with it. I'm also excited to start chiseling away at many little worries and details, so that can we sail into October with not a care in the world!
Thursday p.m.: Pick up more wine samples. Shop at the craft store for hurricane lamps, floral supplies, wreath forms and picture frames. Discuss rehearsal dinner plans.
Friday noon: The Tasting!!!
Friday p.m.: Squeal with excitement about the food. Bask in the glow. Shop for shoes and accessories.
Saturday a.m.: Final fitting of our suits, meet with stylist. (You heard right: stylist.)
Saturday p.m.: Shop for cake stand (or appropriate supplies to make one). Paint flower pots and practice assembling centerpieces. Get a little drunk, then practice dancing.
Sunday a.m.: Site visit possible. Big breakfast with George Stephanopoulos on the tube much more likely.
I am so happy and grateful that we planned so much so early (and were such pains in the neck to so many vendors), because all these little tasks are just fun.
Revised/Tentative Ceremony Music
Working with the brass quintet leader is fun. Starting with some raw ideas, we are shaping a great program together. The music - it is hoped - will suit the occasion and our taste as well as the enjoyment of the musicians. They should have fun, too, right?
Prelude: Three movements from Verne Reynolds (b. 1926) Suite for Brass Quintet.
Procession: One movement from Victor Ewald (1860-1935) Brass Quintent No. 1 in B-flat minor.
Psalm: "Boze! Boze! Písen novou" from Antonín Dvorák (1841-1904) Biblical Songs Op. 99.
Interlude: One movement from Paul Hindemith (1895-1963) "Morgenmusik."
Hymn: "Seek Ye First" by Karen Lafferty (b. 1948).
Recession: Three songs from Charles Ives (1874-1954) Four Songs for Brass Quintet.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
My Turn
Emerson left yesterday for his bachelor party, much like I left him last month for Andrew's. I must admit, while I haven't become as stupid as he became without me, it's surprising how quickly the house feels empty, even with the zoo we currently have. It's nice to be able to make a full pot of coffee and know it will be consumed; I so made too much this morning. But that's ingrained behavior for you.
I have been able to distract myself, though, with thoughts of my own bachelor party! Unlike Emerson's mine does not involve hiking up a mountain without electricity. It does, however, involve burlesque. And 80s Night.
I also have like two days to figure out what I want inscribed inside Emerson's ring. He's thoughtful and sweet and I'm a cynical jackass. The only two things I've come up with are "Property of Michael" and "Last Chance For Love". This is causing me more stress than I imagined it would. Maybe I should conduct a Facebook poll...
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Journey to the Mountaintop
In 12 hours I leave for my no-doubt unmatchable bachelor weekend. (I neglected to include the committee in my Groomtourage post! Oops!) The high point (har har) of the weekend will be climbing 4,000 feet of Mount Moosilauke on Friday with some of my best friends.
Most of this trip will involve drinking whiskey and playing poker in a primitive cabin in the White Mountains. However, a couple of other incongruous highlights include catching a "reality chamber opera" called Tim Gunn's Podcast as well as a minor league ball game between the NH Fisher Cats and the Harrisburg Senators. A gay groom's bachelor party has to be a crazy pastiche, right?
As excited as I am about all that, there is one other planned activity that is really making my heart race.
Tomorrow afternoon, I'll be taking our two rings - which have hardly left our hands for two years - to be cut up, melted down, welded, sawed, shaved - whatever it is that the rocking jewelers at Little King want to do. And from two well worn, deeply loved rings we'll have two brand new deeply lovable wedding rings.
I have the inscription for Michael's ring on a post-it note in my wallet right now, I hope it's the right one!
(n.b. Ignore the date stamp on that photo - the picture is actually from Christmas 2006.)
Groomtourage
Marrying is a team sport. (Get ready for more sports metaphors, I'm high on the Olympics right now.)
Not only do you have your primary team-mate (him to whom you are affianced), but you get the opportunity to assemble a cracker-jack squad of specialists. Most of these specialists are creative types, and like elite athletes they must be handled with the utmost level of respect and attention.
Our team at this point consists of no fewer than seven farmers, seven musicians, five speechmakers, four declaimers, three therapists, two DJs, two chefs, two visual artists, two jewelers, a tailor, a stylist, a photographer, a choreographer, an administrative assistant and countless personal advisers.
Working with all these brilliant people is a privilege and a responsibility. One can smooth the path, in a way, by aiming low - that is, making all one's own creative decisions and employing mere technicians to execute them. But, we were dedicated to a "collaborative" approach from an early stage. We wanted each of these superstars to bring his or her own viewpoint, enjoyment and artistry to the task. Consequently, we are engaged in deep, sometimes delicate conversations with each of them.
The newest additions to our team are the brass quintet and the tailor. We have just exchanged our first rally of emails with the quintet's leader, Sandy, having started with a number of outlandish musical suggestions. Her response was very thoughtful and sensitive to our taste - which she clearly understood - and now we have parried with a new set list. Our goal is to find music that they are truly excited to play, because we believe that will bring out their best talents.
Mr. Tabet is our tailor, and he too brings not only a reputation for extraordinary skill, but also a strong viewpoint as to how our suits should look. With his strong but unidentifiable accent and hard but pitying glare, he barks out orders like the tiny Bela Karolyi of menswear. Our bill for his services is a little more than double the money we paid for our suits to begin with! Nonetheless, it is a true pleasure to see his experience and competence, and to know that we have avoided the sad fate of the Ukrainian athletes last Friday. 
You Should Be Dancing - Yeah! (We Should Maybe Not)
Last night was the third of our five foxtrot lessons. On the upside, we have a routine! It involves such colorful elements as a left-end leap, a sway and a bunch of twinkles. Fortunately, the leap does not involve leaping, and the twinkles do not involve jazz hands (or fingers in any way); on the other hand, the sway is much more complicated than it sounds, requiring something called "arm style."
Another upside is that we get to wear our fabulous new shoes. There is mine on the right. Gorgeous, right? Thanks, Nordstrom Anniversary Sale!
So, you may be asking, what is the downside of our foxtrot lessons? Well, we are just terrible. Yuliya, our adorable, sweet, brilliant teacher, will never tell us so, but we can see it in her eyes. Her voice may be saying "Slow, slow, quick-quick!" But, her eyes are saying, "You dance like a pair of lobotomized rhinos."
The other downside is the flop-sweat. Gross, I know. We are guilty of some combination trying too hard, dancing too fast and raw terror. Perspiration is a vicious cycle, too - the more you worry about it, the faster it comes. Do you think Botox is a terrible idea? How about a Karate Kid-style headband? Yes, Sensei!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Parting Gifts
I hate terrorists.
Oh, I'm sure some of them are really nice if you get to know them before they blow something up. And certainly their mothers' probably think they're sweet. But those adoring maternal types might think differently if they realized how their terrorizing children are mucking up my perfect day. (You'll see why in a minute).
Now as many of you know, one of the customary wedding-y things is to give a little thank you for trekking all the way out here and buying us a place-setting gift to all of your guests. A sort of thank you for playing, you've been great sort of dilly. These are usually a) edible, b) emblazened with the couple's name and date, lest you forget who they are or to send them an anniversary present, c) breakable, or d) all of the above. Emerson and I, not wanting to be left out, have been agonizing over what to give. Weddings we've attended have had everything from candies, to flower bulbs, to custom beer bottles. But unless you own an engraving company that makes wedding trinkets, the cost quickly increases.
Plus, we have a pathological desire to be different.
And since everything else in this wedding seems to be homemade, why not the parting gift? We weighed our options and came up with, what I think is the coolest idea ever. Recently I've taken to pickling (hey, everyone needs a hobby). I've pickled everything I can get my hands on at the farmer's market and as far as edible, inexpensive, DIY gifts go, you can't go wrong with pickles! A mason jar, a cute hand-written label, a little raffia around the rim and voila! All you need is some fresh produce and penchant for boiling vinegar and you've got yourself a thoughtful, unique, and useful gift.
Except there are terrorists.
Since nearly everyone is flying and with the airlines getting all bitchy and beginning to charge for checked luggage, we're betting that a good number of guests will not be checking any bags. And since some jackass terrorist somewhere got the bright idea to hypothesize that he could make a bomb out of mixing liquids, guess what you can't bring onto a plane? Pickles. Which are floating in a sea of liquid.
So instead of spending the next 72 days slaving over a hot stove making pickles and jam that people are either not going to take or going to take because they are polite but will leave in the hotel room or are going to take but have them confiscated by the TSA, I'm going to bitch about how much I hate terrorists and their imaginary, hypothetical, unrealistic plots to destroy us, and the irrational, infantile, pointless steps our retarded government is taking to make me "feel safe" when in reality all it is doing is inconveniencing me and RUINING MY PERFECT DAY!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Of Vase and Pens
I may have announced already - and somewhat triumphantly - that we are past the "planning" stage and entering the "execution." (The equivocation is intentional.)
It has actually been rather difficult to write entertaining, interesting and meaningful blog posts during this phase. It's hard to imagine that anyone would want to hear about our quest for the right flower bowls (footed compote or tole basket?), choosing the right pens for addressing invitations (brown ink - fine point - but not too fine), or yet another disquisition on matching shoes to belts (although - I GOT 'EM!).
This final phase is what separates grooms from Groomzillas.
One, of course, wishes to measure one's neuroses against others'. In this way, one could detect a "norm." There are virtually no friends, colleagues or (certainly) mothers who will ever tell you to your face that you're being crazy or - likeliest of all - annoying. I find myself wondering, "Is that a phony smile? Or are my envelopes genuinely fascinating?"
It is the beauty of the blogosphere, I suppose. No one will read these ramblings unless they are truly amazed (or worried?) by the involuted decision-making apparatus of this groom's addled brain.
To summarize: this week we finalized our invitation design, ordered envelopes and a return-address stamp, bought pens and ink, picked up our SHOES, paid the deposit for musicians, booked bachelor party travel, rescheduled our dance lesson and stared glassy-eyed at the shelves of a craft store.
This is life in the minutiae lane!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Brassy
So, since we got engaged . . . Okay, I'll stop there. I was about to tell a lie.
Since well before we got engaged, I have wanted a brass quintet to play for the wedding. Through all our many hair-brained ideas and scouted locations, I imagined live brass in each of them. Almost nothing could be more extravagant, and make even a little picnic on a goat farm into an elegant and uplifting occasion.
Well, we got one! Miraculously, we can afford it.
But that's hardly half the story.
I would say I know more about modern and contemporary chamber music than the average person. Which is not saying much. I am certainly no connoisseur. Those people are crazy. But I know enough to name a half-dozen important composers I admire and pieces that move me. I have known for years that I wanted a brass quintet with the talent and flexibility to play something fresh and unexpected. No Pachelbel, no Vivaldi, no Titanic.
I thought that graduate students (or talented college students) would be ideal for this. They are hungry for opportunities to perform and make a little money, and they have a still-youthful passion for music that might broaden their palate. And, let me tell you that "contact your local college" is the most prevalent piece of advice in budget/DIY wedding guides. So, obviously people have done this with some success!
Knowing that our local "kudzu league" university has a pretty strong music program and a renowned student orchestra, I sent an email to their student president (it operates as both a curriculum and a club). He replied within a couple of days, and forwarded my request to the whole wind orchestra. I got two nibbles from individual musicians (a trombonist and a flautist, which . . . anyway), and one very promising reply from a young man leading a brass quintet of his own!
As you can imagine, I replied right away, and enthusiastically. But then - surprise, surprise - only silence for several weeks. I left messages on his cell and at his home, I sent probably six emails. Finally, we spoke.
All my hopes for a cheap-yet-boundlessly-creative student ensemble were dashed.
Not only was this group of students wildly more expensive than the highest estimated price I had encountered for professionals, but they really couldn't play anything other than standard boring wedding fare. Or, more accurately, "Faire," as they also specialized in Renaissance weddings.
Finding myself back at square one, I followed up with some students who had replied to my initial request, but found silence there as well. Undoubtedly, because it's summer, they were off doing exciting things in Malawi and at various law firms.
I contacted a well-known trumpeter, recommended to me by our dear and lovely soprano vocalist (more about her later), but after a month of waiting, he replied that he would be playing another wedding that day, and that three of the five members of his ensemble would be otherwise engaged, as well.
Finally, seeing no other options - and coming to peace with a brass-less wedding - I called the music booker recommended by our caterer. As you can imagine, lacking faith in our caterer, I had avoided taking this recommendation. I assumed the booker would offer us something both expensive and uninspiring.
Oh, was I wrong.
The booker was absolutely delightful. Professional, respectful, prompt and efficient. when I told her our budget she firmly committed to find us a quintet for "a lot less," and she did. Hallelujah!
But what I had not foreseen was that my above-average yet quite-limited knowledge of music would be called upon immediately, and quickly proven inadequate. The quintet needs a set list in just a few days, at the same time we send our deposit. We have an idea what "sound" we want, but can we (could we ever) possibly come up with a specific list of pieces?
Let me admit that very little good work has come out of my office these past two days, although I look as studious as a philomath in my office with the door closed. Am I busily writing proposals? No, sir. I am listening to the great works of Adams, Barber, Copland, Dahl, Ewald, Ives, Ligeti and dozens of obscure others, in order of descending popularity.
I am trying to guess which string quartets, which saxophone concertos, which piano sonatas will easily and beautifully transmogrify into brass chorales. Of course, I have no idea what this group of musicians can play or are willing to arrange or learn.
But there are two things I am sure of: we are having a brass quintet at our wedding, and I know more about modern chamber music than I ever imagined, but still a little less than those nutty fanatics.
Papercuts
Last weekend, another pair of dear friends came down from New York to keep us company. One will be a reader during our wedding ceremony, and the other will be designing our invitations. We have written a lot about his talent already.
I suppose, as of this week, I shouldn't say, "he will be designing," but "he is designing." The work of design is intense and arduous. We spent three hours on Saturday mostly looking at fonts and typing our names over and over. Minute differences in the shape of the serif or the height of the small-caps make a visible difference.
Awesomely, we found the "look" that suits us and our celebration best. It fits our country style, patriotic motif and old-fashioned-casual aesthetic. I wish I could share it! But I'll wait until the invitations are in the mail, so I don't spoil the surprise.
Meanwhile, I'll share something cool that's also going in the envelope.
We know that many couples like to provide their out-of-town guests with guidance and information. How else would they know where to brunch?! But our impulse is to plan, plan and plan some more. So, with the help of our designer, we'll be making a cool orientation packet to send along with the invitation, and here's a little snapshot:
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Beta-Blockers
So I have been to a fair number of weddings this summer. The time it takes me to go from entering the wedding to crying tears of happiness is proportional to the number of days until my wedding, as the various brides and wedding guests can surely attest to. Probably a photographer or two as well. I am increasingly worried for my own pending nuptials.
I didn't used to be like this. I was a cynical, heartless viper when it came to all things treacle*. But now, for the love of God, I am an emotional wreck. I'm even crying right now. Seriously. It's a good thing I have my office to myself. I am truly afraid that I am not going to be able to get through the processional without my face becoming puffy and bloated from the floodgates of joyful emotion. So I need a pro-active solution
I could try yoga or meditation or some other new-agey homeopathic touchy-feely garbage. But not only am I highly skeptical of anything remotely connected to mindful breathing or southern California, that stuff is, like, time-consuming. I believe in the quick fix; better living through modern chemistry. And here-in lies the problem.
They don't make don't-cry-at-your-own-wedding drugs. I know. I've looked.
I suppose social anxiety medicine would work but I know a guy who took propranolol before a public speaking event and, well, let's just say it was less than ideal. So maybe I'll just pop a few xanies right before and hope for the best. It's not like I have to remember anything more complicated than "I do."
*This might not be entirely accurate. Some of you may remember the time(s) when I (theater geek alert!) sobbed uncontrollably when Gavroche was shot. And maybe Fantine. And others. But I did not, I repeat, did not cry during Miss Saigon. A boy must have standards.
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