THE 55th ANNUAL VIENNESE OPERA BALL : At The Waldorf Astoria.

The Waldorf Astoria was opened in 1893 as the “unofficial palace of New York.”

Presidents, ambassadors and their ladies have welcomed their foreign counterparts in the famed Ballroom for centuries, lending an aura of tradition to a country that is still, relative to the Western world, in its infancy.  This evening, the Waldorf’s Grand Ballroom was host to the US-Austrian Chamber of Commerce’s 55^th Consecutive Viennese Opera Ball.  

All proceeds support the United Nations “Nothing but Nets” program, to benefit the victims and survivors of the recent earthquake in Haiti.

The Grand March of the Dignitaries signifies the opening of the Ball, traditionally escorted by the United States Military Academy, West Point cadets and Color Guard. The presentation of the debutantes followed, with Ms. Jennifer E. Rolfe and Mr. Hans Luther, the Debutante Patroness and Patron providing elegant escort. Also in attendance were Kristen Dalton, the reigning Miss USA, and Stefania Fernandez, the reigning Miss Universe.

 The Peter Duchin Orchestra, based in New York City, played Wakdeutful and Ziehrer from the red carpeted dais.  Heinz Heidenreich, famed Austrian choreographer, led the Specialty Dance of the Debutantes and the waltzes.

Women wore both traditional and modern ball gowns, lending a broad spectrum of fashion to the evening’s entertainment. Carmen de Lavallade showcased an exquisite design by husband and acclaimed costume designer Geoffrey Holder.  Mr and Mrs. Daniel Heidtlt;/span> danced an unparalleled traditional waltz, and the lady’s full-skirted pale pink silken ball gown, with pleated brocade, conjured a striking vision of 19^th century elegance.  Other notable escorts included Constantine Moralis and Maksim Chmerkovskiy, no strangers to the theatre, and Doug Ausenbaught, of the Westpoint Color Guard.  

As brass buttoned cadets extended white-gloved hands to the debutantes, the former happily relinquished small bouquets of scarlet, green-stemmed roses.  The couples signified a degree of innocence that, in a time of war, is valued for its fragility and perhaps fleeting nature.

“Frankly, it’s an honor to be here tonight,” said Nadi Kassim, Westpoint cadet. “We will likely be serving in Afghanistan and Iraq soon.  I feel proud to be a first generation American soldier, and to serve my country in a time of war.”  Lieutenant Colonel John Willis, official escort, spoke of their honor, courage and social elegance with apparent satisfaction.

The presence of American military personnel and high-ranking Austrian officials marked the continuance of governmental efforts to encourage cultural exchange between the two countries.  The Austrian Ambassador to the United States, Christian Prosl, received me in a large, ornately carved antechamber, lit by a single crystal chandelier.  I asked about his impressions of the evening, realizing after I had spoken that his face, flushed from dancing and striking blue eyes, lit with pleasure, provided ample answer.

“There is a definite consideration of the past [here tonight]. We are here to carry on our tradition.  The debutantes signify the nice pleasures, the innocent pleasures [of our culture]. “ He spoke of the past with reasoned nostalgia—“We are no longer a superpower, and we need to know and understand our position in the world; there have been a lot of changes”—and looked to the future with evident hope. His opinions echoed those of Renate Brauner, Vice-Mayor to Vienna. “In Vienna, we reach both Old and New Europe. It [Vienna] is something very special; it is a place of tradition with room for modern and lively people, who love to celebrate.”

 As I reentered the Ballroom, eyes trained upon the waltzing couples, I was immediately struck with both a sense of nostalgia and wonderment. In a world where the past is as close as yesterday, and the future as near as tomorrow, it was wonderful to be a part of a moment in time that stretched so much farther than the reaches of modern sensibilities.

 I left at 2:30am and woke to a Saturday afternoon that would soon resemble those before. The memory of the waltz began to fade, its distant echoes finally giving way to the jarringly garrulous New York City traffic.  And no longer did an extended, white-gloved hand direct my movements; it was the promise of a strong cup of coffee that compelled me to the other side of the street. Though I must admit, I did negotiate the potholes with extraordinary fluidity. NATALIE FASANO