There were absolutely no words to describe the scene before me, but, as it is my profession, I will seek to find them. A steely reflecting pool greeted my entry; its still waters ran the length of the massive, white marble room. An onyx dais rose from behind, supported by alabaster railings and slender staircases on either side. Huge Egyptian arches flanked the dance floor; their imposing frames at once giving life to, and taking the breath from, the crowd below. Bathed in sublime pink and gold light, the pock marked face of ancient Egypt created rather than completed the scene of hedonistic excess and elegant synchronicity.
As I contemplated the character of the roaring 20s, and its interpretation within the confines of such a room, I realized that the atmosphere was wonderfully—haunting. It was hauntingly beautiful, a sensation that only the Metropolitan Museum can instill in its visitors. What a privilege to live in a city with such cultural grace, embodied in the Museum and, hopefully, its adoring public.
Go to Scallywag’s Photo Gallery.
