Last night, I attended the annual Robin Hood benefit event at the Javits Center. Robin Hood targets poverty in New York City by partnering with, and funding other local youth, education, employment and survival programs. Its annual fundraiser is well-known as the splashiest charity event in town, and that’s saying something. They raise a LOT of money, and donate 100% percent to their partner causes.
Upon entering the event — whose space was the size of an indoor football field by the way — we could see the dining and auction area surrounded by a massive curtain. Walking to our table, we passed enormous models made from donated items. Here is a castle made of NY coffee cups.
There was also a giant chair made of bottled water, and some pieces were filled with donated towels.
The event production company David Stark — specializing in extravagant corporate and charity events, and off-the-hook weddings — designed the decor. After Googling the company, I realized I’d been to another of their events — Tate Modern’s Inaugural Artists’ Dinner, also held in NYC. The dinner was decorated with undulating curtains made from 15,000 Benjamin Moore paint color swatches. The scale and visual impact of these “installations” rivals those by many contemporary artists at the Whitney Biennial or any Chelsea gallery; although, in this case, the works are not for sale, and will eventually end up either in the trash, or, as is the case for the Robin Hood items, dispersed to the needy. Here is the “installation” at the Tate dinner.
Before entering the event, I stood outside and watched the parade of swells emerging from their town cars. The men were pretty much exclusively wearing business attire: dark suits and ties. And though some were high profile, visually, they were all interchangeable. The women were dressed in fancy dresses, but nothing over-the-top like you’d see at the Oscar ceremonies or the Met Costume Balls. Most of the guys were, I suspect, alpha-male businessmen — CEOs and hedge fund types out to do good works in front of their peers. There were almost no paparazzi, as most of the attendants are not “names” to the general public, though they might be amongst themselves.
After the food was served, there was a break for schmoozing, after which the event started in earnest. As co-MC, Conan O‘Brian made a bunch of jokes with references to businessmen and business events that I didn’t get — I’m not sure he got them either. At one point, a section of the aforementioned curtain opened, and a children’s choir, soon joined by Sheryl Crow, performed “Lean On Me.” Tom Brokaw and Jamie Niven, a Sotheby’s auctioneer, led the bidding on various packages, one of which included a performance by the Jonas Brothers at your kid’s party, and another, a five star African safari hosted by a conservationist and filmmaker. The bidding went pretty high — close to half a million in some cases.
Then, as if that weren’t impressive enough, Niven asked who would give a cool million for a gold brick inscribed with his or her name. Slowly, the glow sticks went up, and the offers reached 10 million dollars in less than five minutes! A second round requesting 250 thousand for each silver brick got even more glow sticks. You get the idea as to what kind of money was thrown around there. If the economy is shaky, no one here is letting on.
I wondered about the whole idea of these charity events, which raise money for programs and cultural institutions that are, in some countries, supported instead by government programs. In the UK for instance, a lot of arts funding comes from the lottery, so ordinary taxpayers don’t need to feel they’re supporting possibly dodgy artworks. I have a hunch that many attendees would balk at the implementation of higher taxes to cover these same types of programs: kids’ meals, education, medical expenses, etc. Where is the glory in giving if everybody does it? And if it’s virtually invisible? If you HAVE to do it, it’s not the same.
These charity galas are, of course, feel good events for those who can afford to give. They offer the potential to reposition a cutthroat CEO as a good person with a heart — and now a brick — of gold. Yet, who can deny that giving to these programs is socially beneficial? Does it seem cynical then, to suggest that the attendees received at least their money’s worth in glory and reputation correction, and that their motives were less than completely altruistic? I believe it was Niven who exhorted the crowd to “Build Your Legacy!” which is pretty obvious code for “Increase your social standing and raise your status!”
That’s the weird aspect of all these charity events — any evolutionary psychologist will tell us that beneath the lovely displays of altruism lie hidden, and perhaps not so hidden, benefits. For instance, social benefits such as status elevation may potentially lead to financial benefits. Status upgrades are genetically beneficial as well. Do truly good Samaritans — altruists expecting nothing in return for their kindness and generosity — actually exist? I suspect they sometimes do. But, most of the time giving flows easiest when others are around to bear witness. That’s not being cynical; it’s simply how social animals work. And though I wish the government cared a bit more for some if it’s citizens, I can’t complain about the generosity demonstrated by those who can afford it.
After all the excitement around redistributing massive amounts of money, the curtain opened at the opposite end, and Shakira began a set. The dining area was so huge (we were at table #360), that we had to saunter across the expanse to get a closer glimpse, although large, bright video screens surrounding the whole dining area displayed the performance. The Columbian diva started with a song in Spanish, a seemingly smart statement about her identity (the choice of language, not the song itself). Later in the set, John Legend joined her on stage.
Most guests probably had musical tastes that lay elsewhere, but they knew they were getting a top-notch show, even if they didn’t know the songs. I tried to imagine a more apt selection: Rod Stewart? The Eagles? Al Green? Or, perhaps a revue from Jersey Boys or South Pacific?
