In February of 2001, I brought my friend Stephens to Symphony Hall for one of my regular Thursday, A-Series subscription concerts. That night, the Boston Symphony Orchestra performed the U.S. premiere of “La Pasion Segun San Marcos” by the brilliant Argentinean composer Osvaldo Golijov.
Usually, Symphony Hall looks like this:
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Whether you’ll be curled up next to a roaring fire in Sun Valley or toasting your buns on the beach in Mustique this New Year’s, there’s only one accessory you can’t be caught dead without this holiday season: My novel. Buy it here.
When I was a kid, I loved playing the board game Masterpiece with my brother. The fact that he cheated didn’t even particularly bother me. I felt like Aristotle Onassis, shelling out inconceivable amounts of money for a Rembrandt.
So it was a nifty surprise one recent Saturday morning when I got a message from a friend in the U.K. saying: “Hey—Quick message only, sorry…I’ve got someone selling a Picasso and a Monet. £4.8 & £3.9m respectively. You know any collectors in the market? A Swiss family liquidating some assets…”
Let’s put aside the fact that someone was casually asking if I knew someone with north of $14,250,000 to throw around. It felt sexy even to contemplate it, and while it seemed too good to be true, dollar signs danced in my head—a standard commission is 10% and even a sliver of that would be a hefty hunk of change. So I said I’d look into it. … read more