Pieces of the Past. Este artículo no está disponible.Pieces of the Past

David Beer’s Pieces of the Past is not a memoir, or so he would have you believe. Winston Churchill could write a memoir, as could Dolly Parton, because each in their own way achieved greatness. Beer did design some fine buildings, and he established and nurtured a very reputable architectural firm that was eventually well known for its hotel designs. But greatness? No. Next life, perhaps . . . In this life, he had a wonderful time. In early years, he lounged around in his elderly relatives’ oh-so-gracious country places and traveled the world when it was glamorous, adventurous, and fun. Later he could be found using his slide ruler while waiting in line twenty-four hours for a standing-room ticket to Maria Callas’s debut at the Old Met on 39th Street—or, at about the same time, sporting white tie and tails on a Monday night, sitting in a just-off-center box as a guest of an enormous-emerald-wearing, once famous diva. He lunched at a prized window-side table at La Tour d’Argent, feasting on fine food and the view of Notre Dame; later, obeying his conscience, he marched against the Iraq War, for a woman’s right to choose, and for AIDS research. More frivolously, he saved Venice several times, along with a few demi-royals and some genuinely glamorous types. He even helped Kitty Carlisle Hart dress appropriately to visit a mosque. Beer invokes a past New York of Checker cabs and open double-decker buses. While his parlor was once lit by a double-story, stained-glass window, he now extols the virtues of his eight-foot-ceilinged, white-brick-clad apartment—at least, as long as it has a south-facing, forty-foot-long, flower-filled, tree-shaded terrace. Often musing, sometimes heartfelt, always curious and observant, David Beer describes a life affectionately remembered and well worth living.