N ovember 20, The FAC was just coming off a banner year. And the theater, under the leadership of director Scott Levy, was more popular than ever, selling out shows and earning standing ovations. Ticket sales were up. Membership was up. Everything was on the up. Not long after the balloon touched, the wind picked up suddenly and Epstein noticed the basket carrying the cast members was starting to tip over.
He reached for the edge to steady it. But as soon as he grabbed hold of it another strong gust jerked the balloon and basket, whipping him along with it.
Epstein had to have surgery to set the fractures in place, but the stunt made the evening news, got written up in the paper, and the production sold out. Over the next decade, a handful of community leaders hatched a daring rescue plan that seemed like it would set the beloved local arts institution on solid financial ground.
And they pulled it off. This story is well documented, and Epstein himself recounted it in a recent column in The Gazette, but in , Michael DeMarsche, a charismatic arts champion with a mane of hair that would make Fabio blush, took the helm of the Fine Arts Center.
He was charged with bringing the center into the 21st century and raising the funds for a much-needed renovation and expansion. And this culture persisted for nearly a hundred years. DeMarsche moved easily in this world. He bought some Chihulys, hosted wine tastings, gave VIP tours of the collection, arranged exclusive art trips, brought in a few blockbuster shows including Andy Warhol and Fernando Botero and did all the private glad handing and ego stroking that capital campaigns for big building projects require.
