Pirouettes and Pumpkins
At a Cinderella Ball
By Roxanne Roberts
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 8, 2003

The Washington Ballet needed a place grand, gold and glitzy enough to impress the crowd at last night's Cinderella's Ball. What they got was the newly renovated Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium, the historic masterpiece on Constitution Avenue complete with soaring columns, gilded ceiling and a gated entrance.

"The gates and the lanterns evoked, as close as you can find in Washington, Prince Charming's palace," said gala chairwoman Connie Carter Lawson.

A 21st-century fairy tale: Forget the prince. Just find us a really great castle we can afford.

The ballet got its wish, at least for one night. Closed for seven years, the Mellon is once again open for princes, princesses and the occasional scullery maid who married up. Last night's gala took its theme from a production of "Cinderella" by Artistic Director Septime Webre debuting at the end of the month. Guests were ushered down a red carpet and greeted by dancers wearing costumes from the ballet. At the reception before dinner, Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist and his wife, Karyn, and board president Kay Kendall welcomed guests while "princes" approached ladies with magic slippers. Prada, of course.

"It's perfect," squealed Cindy Jones, slipping into the size 5 1/2 silver sandal. "And I don't think it will fit anybody else!"

Then the doors were flung open and everyone got to gaze upon the main auditorium.

"Great room for a wedding," said Mandy Ourisman. "It reminds me of something ancient in Europe."

The auditorium, named for former Treasury secretary Andrew Mellon, was opened in 1935 and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. In 1940 President Franklin Roosevelt launched the Selective Service lottery from the room. It was the site of the signing of the NATO Treaty in 1949 and of its 50th-anniversary ceremony four years ago. And in February, "The West Wing" used it as the setting for an inaugural ball honoring the NBC drama's fictional President Bartlet.

It was still under restoration when Lawson began planning the gala in October. This is the ballet's largest fundraiser of the year (the company will net $200,000), and she needed room for 400 guests and space for dancers to perform and guests to dance.

"All the hotel ballrooms seemed too boring," Lawson said. She first considered the grand Organization of American States building, but that ballroom was too small. The National Building Museum was too big. Wait, are we talking Cinderella or Goldilocks? The Great Hall of the Library of Congress was the right size but too expensive.

Then someone mentioned that the Mellon Auditorium might be finished in time for the party. The size was right and the rental fee ($12,000) within budget, but what sold Lawson was the grandeur of the space. "When I saw the pillars, the crown molding, the gilding and the chandeliers, I was convinced it was the perfect place to create a modern-day Cinderella ball," she said.

Well, not perfect.

The Mellon restoration has been historically faithful, which means every surface has been returned to its original glory: gleaming floors, clean limestone, new gilding. Air conditioning was added. But they forgot another modern convenience -- electricity. "We require a generator for power," said site manager Stephanie Campbell. The auditorium has five 20-amp circuits -- enough to run five big coffee urns, maybe.

Caterers not only have to contend with no power or kitchen, but new Homeland Security rules require everything that enters the federal facility to be X-rayed at the Navy Yard, where the trucks are then sealed before being driven to the auditorium to be unloaded -- all under the watchful eyes of site managers Campbell and Jenna Mack. "You can call us the wicked stepsisters," Mack said with a laugh.

But the lavish interior meant no additional expenditure to decorate the space for the ballet gala. The party (food, wine, table settings, lights) will run about $125,000, about one-third of the total raised for the event. Individual tickets were $500. "That's a lot of money to ask of people," Lawson said. "And you better deliver a visual, culinary experience."

The tables were covered in gold, lilac and salmon silk and taffeta; the centerpieces held tulips, peonies, roses, hydrangeas, lilies and miniature silver pumpkins. The Cinderella menu included lobster, crown roast of lamb and a trio of desserts -- including a pumpkin and a white chocolate slipper. There was even a sneak preview of "Cinderella" with principal dancers Michele Jimenez and Runqiao Du.

You know how it turns out, Webre told the crowd. "The perfect size 7 Spanish-made Manolo Blahnik glass slipper fits and they live happily ever after."

After dinner, the dance floor was crowded with a mix of amateurs and pros -- patrons and many of the company's dancers, who despite the busman's holiday are usually the last to leave a party.

But this being Washington, the ball was over before the clock struck midnight. No Cinderella dashed out the door, no glass slipper was abandoned, and no coach turned into a pumpkin.

"Husbands turn into pumpkins at 10:30 p.m.," Lawson said with a grin.

© 2003 The Washington Post Company