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A Tribute to L. Peter Feldman
Last Saturday evening, at the Canadian Arts Presenting Association Conference in Ottawa, the organization's founding Executive Director, Peter Feldman, was paid tribute for his 22 years of service to the Association, and to artists and audiences in Canada and abroad. The dinner, which celebrated Feldman's contribution, included tributes by the Association's first Board President Dan Donaldson; National Arts Centre President Peter Herrndorf; Department of Canadian Heritage Acting Director of Programs, Trade and Investment Branch Jo-Anne Stewart; CAPACOA President Sandra Thomson, and yours truly.
To see my colleague and close friend celebrated in this way was one of the best and most rewarding evenings of my thirty plus years in the performing arts. Sometimes very good people are recognized for their tireless work and dedication. This was one of those moments.
I am proud to call Peter Feldman not only a colleague, but a beloved friend. What follows below is the text of my remarks to the assembled people at Mr. Feldman's tribute:
* * * * * *
Sandra, thank you for this privilege of participating in paying tribute to Peter this evening. I am just one of Peter’s many good friends. Several people here tonight have known Peter longer than I have.
C.S. Lewis wrote “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival." How true.
As I have reflected on what I would say tonight, I have come to hope that I will be able to speak for all of us who know and love this most extraordinary, gifted, generous, hilarious, steadfast, and occasionally exasperating man.
Like most of you, I met Peter in a professional context on April 11, 1991 in Vancouver where I spoke at Pacific Contact. My speech title was a question: “Where are the Leaders who will keep Hope alive?”
In that speech, I exhorted the people present to stop thinking of themselves as cogs within institutions, but to recognize that what our arts community needs most cannot be found within institutions, but only in the human heart. I was talking about faith, courage, trust, respect, joy, and commitment.
When I met Peter, I didn’t know I’d met someone who already was - and who would continue to be – one of those leaders who would keep hope alive.
Faith, courage, trust, respect, joy, and commitment can only live in institutions when they are fully alive in the people within those institutions. Having been blessed with Peter’s friendship over the years, I have seen these things guide and anchor him so often.
You and me? – we have a lot in common; we are all loved by Peter. At least in my case, it’s not because we’re always all that lovable. It’s because Peter is, by nature, generous with his affection. His affection for you - the members of this Association – and his support and passion for Canadian artists and Canadian audiences have shown up since the first day I met him.
Those of you who know me know that I value intelligence and skill, but I have to tell you that these things aren’t all that useful without COURAGE to try the difficult, GRATITUDE for what you’ve got, and OPTIMISM that greater things are possible.
I remember during the early days of CAPACOA when there was no professional development program or budget in place. The Association was much more cautious in taking risks. Peter substituted his own courage and optimism for the budget that wasn’t there yet. He believed in the membership of this Association; that YOU would show up to make it work. He was right. It’s easy to forget those times now.
Peter Feldman has never held a half-empty glass in his life. Even when his mother passed away - and it was the hardest hit I’ve ever seen the man take - at Dorothy’s memorial service Peter sang “God Bless the Child.” He’d lost his Mum, but he sang about how blessed he was to have had her. This is the Peter I know and love.
Some people are born with a song in their heart. They sing every morning, just like a songbird. One of things I love most about my friendship with Peter is that it is so full of joy, of hilarity, and of simple appreciation for just about everything.
I don’t talk about it much, but I have struggled with depression over the years. When I’m around Peter, those clouds lift. It’s like seeing the world through an old black and white TV, then having the world transformed into color. When I’ve forgotten the song in my own heart, Peter has always been able to remind me of the words - AND the music. I’ve seen him play the same role with many other people.
We all know Peter’s various sides. The dignified advocate. The poised host. The mischievous teaser. The grand raconteur. Peter was, after all, trained as an actor. He’s the only man I know who gets paid for having multiple personality disorder.
I have heard Peter rhapsodize about a pastrami sandwich like Lord Byron wrote about his beloved Contessa Theresa Guiccioli. I have seen him cry at beautiful sunrises, most particularly the morning we were at 10,000 feet on the summit of the volcano Haleakala. It was below zero; the wind was blowing at about 40 knots. There was more than one tear in Peter’s eye that morning.
Earlier this week, after lunch, we took a walk through Ottawa’s old city, and Peter couldn’t stop talking about what a gorgeous day it was. This is the friend I love; a man who reminds me what a miracle life is. Never to take it for granted.
With apologies to Shakespeare, “I have come to praise Peter, not to bury him. The good that men do does indeed live after him.” The good that Peter has done this Association, and so many of us, will continue. As will Peter, whatever he decides to do in the future.
In closing, I will tell you a brief story. One day Peter and I were in New York and had decided to meet for lunch. We made what is an almost annual pilgrimage to the Stage Deli. After we were seated, we struck up a conversation with the folks at the table next to us, whereupon after a few minutes we were asked, “Are you brothers?”
We lied. We said we were not.
Posted on November 7, 2007 03:18 PM | Permalink
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