Unoaked

A CAROLINA SUMMER

by MIMI MONTGOMERY

WSummer in North Carolina is, without question, wonderful. Sure, fall is lovely, full of football games, Indian summer days, and trips to the farmers market. Winter is a breeze compared to what our fr iends up North have to deal with. And spring, with its fr agile fullness and budding green, is a hint at the best to come. Because summer beats them all. Whenever I tell out-of-staters I’m fr om North Carolina, they’re always excited to tell me about the time their grandmother rented a beach house in the

Outer Banks, or they went to Asheville over Labor Day. We really are spoiled. Th e ancient curves of the Blue Ridge to the west, the blue-green rise

“WE REALLY ARE SPOILED,” ONE OF MY NORTH CAROLINA FRIENDS SAYS. “THE ancient curves of the Blue Ridge to the west, the blue-green rise and fall of the Atlantic to the east. How could you go wrong?” and fall of the Atlantic to the east. How could you go wrong? Of course, there are some heretics that maintain the beaches of that other Carolina are better. On this assertion, I politely decline to comment. I will say, however, that I spent far too many hours of my college career watching people eat fr ied turkey legs and dance in nightclub cages on the cheery shores of Myrtle Beach. In the words of Forrest Gump: “Th at’s all I have to say about that.” Living in Raleigh, North Carolina, our state’s beaches become a second living room during the summer. On Friday aft ernoons, you can dip out of work a bit early and be on the beach in time

for a cocktail before dinner. I’ve made that drive on I-40 so many times it’s like a second heartbeat – the peach stands and boiled-peanut cardboard signs, the terrain growing flatter and flatter and more swamp-like with tall pines; that first breath of salt breeze curling in toward you. It’s the best welcome of all. My grandparents have owned a home in Wrightsville Beach since before I was alive, so I’m a bit biased. We have pictures of my grandfather holding me there as a newborn, and I learned how to ride my bike on sizzling black asphalt along Wrightsville marshes that rose and fell with the tide. My grandmother passed away three years ago, but nothing in the house has changed. The red and white couch is still by the bay window, bleached from years of sun; the rug in the living room hides a dark brown stain where I spilled Cheerwine as a kid; the plastic crab figurines I played with still abound with nautical enthusiasm (much to my mother’s chagrin). Everything I remember from my life at the beach is tinged with a bright fondness. My dad, dork emeritus, was the Frank Lloyd Wright of sandcastle architecture. While other dads hauled out flimsy plastic buckets and good-naturedly packed sand into them, my dad believed each sand construction was his very own Fallingwater. He brought an actual metal shovel and wagon to the beach, and probably would have rented a backhoe if my mother had allowed it. He dug holes wide enough to fit a small cocktail party; holes that veered precipitously down to the earth’s molten core. Beside these holes, he made sandcastles that rivaled the Mall of America. No grain of sand, shell, or bit of sea grass within a five-mile radius was safe. He used everything. None of this stopped even after my brother and I became lazy, angsty teenagers, preferring to ride our bikes into town rather than act as his work crew. But his imagination didn’t end there. He knew that tidal pools can hold a hypnotic captivation over little kids, and he used this to his advantage. A nefarious creature called “The Lizard Lazala” slithered along shallow tidal pools and feasted on the legs of small children, according to him. Coincidentally, the Lizard Lazala looked a lot like a middle-aged man in oversized goggles floundering about in two-feet-deep puddles. Who could have foreseen that his goggly eyes would mistake a neighboring group of kids for my brother and me? Their parents, I’m sure, were delighted to witness a complete stranger attempting to bite their children’s legs underwater, coming up for air to scream: “Lizard Lazala!” Piratical Don’t even get me started on the pirates. Nothing captivated my brother and me more than stories of Edward Teach and Blackbeard. To my six-year-old self (and let’s be honest, even my current 25-year-old self), piracy is the ultimate dream job. You get to be outside, on the water all day, you don’t have to bathe, and no one makes you do boring stuff like fill out W-9 forms for your gold doubloons or pay insurance on your ship. I mean, there’s the whole scurvy and marauding outlaw thing, but nothing’s perfect, right? Our love for those swashbucklers who sailed up and down the North Carolina coast ran deep: Our parents took us to Ocracoke one summer and we got to stay at the Blackbeard Inn, which was basically our version of nirvana. We spent

the entire trip convinced that any bearded dude we passed was somehow Blackbeard’s ghost, walking unrecognized among modern-day mortals. Our dad and our uncle also used to take us to what they called “pirate camp,” which I have only recently realized wasn’t an actual, registered summer camp, but rather an excuse for the guys to escape the house and drink. “Pirate camp” was held multiple times a week at a pirate-themed bar on Wrightsville, which had dark wood paneling, pirate flags, and a ring-hook game. I’m a little uncertain as to how they managed to smuggle a herd of six-year-olds into a bar, Of course, there are some heretics that maintain the beaches of that other but it was awesome. Our dads would drink beer and hang out, and my Carolina are better. On this assertion, I politely decline to comment. cousins and I would get to order unlimited cherry Cokes, french fries, and play whatever we wanted on the jukebox. I miss pirate camp. I miss the days when my family would pack up and move to the beach for three weeks, my mom holding me down to dump a bucket of sunscreen over my head as I wriggled and screamed. Life has gotten a bit busier, filled with obligations and meetings and grown-up things, but in so many ways, I still feel like that kid with the pudgy belly and saggy bathing suit at the beach. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to the ocean. It has a way of simplifying things. I never feel more myself than when I’m by the water, when I can be reminded of how small and finite my body is. The ocean is simultaneously unknowable and familiar; vast and intimate. Even when I’m far away from North Carolina, from the coast that’s been home above anywhere else, it’s still comforting to know it’s there waiting. Just a drive away, down those North Carolina roads that wind through fields of green tobacco and sleepy little towns, stretching out toward you from a horizon that’s always there, just out of sight.

GIGS

CREATIVE

CULTIVATOR

N.C. Theatre’s new CEO

by JESSIE AMMONS

EElizabeth Doran is not from around here, and she thinks that’s a good thing. “There’s value in remembering what the outside world is saying about your community,” she says. It’s late March, and Doran is a few weeks into her new role as CEO of North Carolina Theatre. Already, “I dig it.” But she knew she would: The outside world is impressed with Raleigh’s arts scene, and Doran is ready to dive in. With both business savvy and theater chops, Doran says she hopes to honor tradition and shake things up at NCT. “I’ve found that you are makers here: There’s a lot of homebrewing, from scientific research, biotech, data, and then beers, honey, coffee. … I would like our audiences to understand that N.C. Theatre is valuable in ways outside of just being a Broadway touring home. We are a maker, too.” What Doran didn’t expect, she says, was the diversity of creativity in Raleigh, and she thinks that’s another good thing. The New York native most recently hails from

Southern California, which she calls “a big melting pot,” many cultures interwoven and combined so that it’s easy to forget where one stops and the next begins. In the

Triangle, however, “a lot of work has been done to protect heritage and to protect the root of art forms. There’s an abundance of very well-developed but distinct cultures.”

Rather than a melting pot, she likens our region to a “botanical garden,” where each plant flourishes alongside another to create a sea of beautiful different blooms: music, pottery, dance, theatre. “It’s all very positive. There’s distinction but there’s also admiration.” An early seed planted in the figurative Raleigh botanical garden was the nonprofit

NCT. Founded in 1983 to produce Broadway musicals, NCT has since become a respected pipeline between local talent and the national stage. By tapping local and regional performers in recognizable big-name playbills, budding actors and actresses can gain a foothold in the big-league acting scene. Clay Aiken, Lauren Kennedy, and Beth

Leavel have appeared on both NCT and Broadway stages in the past decade, as has beloved local actor and show creator Ira David Wood III. The organization’s legacy is not lost on its new leader. “There’s a beautiful, shameless love of the arts in a lot of people in this town. People can – people are – making a living in the arts here…The quality is already very high.” Doran hopes to take a really good thing and make it great; she says that’s the best way to reflect the community and momentum she sees. NCT board of directors member Su Shearin says the organization sees a bright future with its new CEO. “With her creativity, vision, and nationwide theatre connections, I’m convinced Elizabeth will take NCT to a new level.” What Doran says she wants to do differently is focus on the audience. Her background is in the theatre, both as an actress and as a producer and developer, and she, too, has a shameless love of the arts. As she talks about the power of live theater, her tone takes on the cadence of a stage actress delivering a monologue. “We are born compassionate, and the theatre emphasizes it. It makes you sit in a room, feeling. … The arts is this place to just lay it all out, and have fun, and be our compassionate selves.” She’s learned, she says, that the best way to ensure both a packed house and an affected audience is by adopting an attitude of service. “Our job – my mission – is to serve the community by doing theatre that reflects the community, and helps the community to examine its questions.”

Nonprofit mentality

How might an outsider, a newcomer to Raleigh, lead the charge to produce theater reflective of the community? “With a nonprofit thought process,” she says, informed by business savvy. Along with decades in the theater, Doran has an MBA: “I felt like there were systemic issues in arts organizations that somehow our arts-focused training programs were not, at the time, solving.” An MBA and postgrad stint abroad working in international marketing added strategic perspective to her arts leadership approach. “We were looking for a high level of business and theatre experience,” board member Shearin says of the CEO search. “We assumed we’d have trade-offs, to varying degrees. We’re delighted that with Elizabeth we have the best of both.”

Since Doran’s arrival to Raleigh in March, she’s been culling data: census demographics, retail statistics, past ticket sales. She’s also been engaging in her favorite form of research: attending arts festivals and meet-and-greets. “I really want to meet hundreds and hundreds of people and talk to them. What are the things in our collective consciousness right now?” With an idea of her audience in mind, Doran says her NCT will carefully cultivate partnerships, programs, and incentives. If an avant-garde performance ends up on the season docket, then “we’ll work for nine months before the show to educate the community about it.” If it’s a taboo topic, she says, NCT education programs will take it apart, break it down, and engage with relevant groups throughout the city to bring the topic to the forefront of public conversation. Which is not to say the feel-good musicals will fall by the wayside (see below for the upcoming season). Doran already knows her audience better than that. “Every performance has the underlying goal of talking about core values,” and often, lighthearted song and dance is the best way to bring people together. “Our feelings can be protected, in a way, from the onslaught of bad news. You sit in a dark room, and the world quiets, and you feel.” She’s also committed to NCT’s foundational pillars of youth education and civic engagement. “We put these Broadway people next to these local Broadway-type people next to these kids, and it feels really good.”

CURRICULUM VITAE

She’s performed as an 1850s immigrant, greeting visitors to the Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island museum in New York (“I’d choose an accent for the day”), and she’s worked with big names throughout her career. They include Academy Award winner Tim Robbins, Grammy winner Sheryl Crow, and Pulitzer Prize winner William Kennedy. Here are a few of the collaborations in her repertoire: - Partnered with Tim Robbins to lead a theatre troupe, the Actors’ Gang, in Los Angeles for five years; among its alumni are Jack Black and his band Tenacious D. -With Robbins, produced a music and culture festival featuring Gore Vidal, Harry Bellefonte, and comedian Sarah Silverman, among others. - Produced a show in Pasadena, CA starring actress Taraji P. Henson. - Produced Broadway- bound musicals including A Night with Janis Joplin and Sleepless in Seattle. - Curated a film series in San Diego with rotating relevant presenting partners, such as Monty Python producer John Goldstone. - Sought to blend theatre, music, and film through series at San Diego Theatres that included hosting a talk by TONY-nominated Emmy-winning Jeff Jampol and a screening of rare classic concert films like Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense. - Managed the Segerstrom Center for the Arts, where gala performers and supporters included architect Cesar Pelli, opera singer Placido Domingo, and musician Sheryl Crow.

UP NEXT

Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, July 25 - 30 Gypsy, Nov. 14 - 19 Love Letters, Jan. 12 - 21 The Wizard of Oz, March 13 - 18 Bright Star, April 17 - 22 The Wonder Years, The Musical, May 4 - 13 Disney’s Newsies, July 24 - 29

TYING THE KNOT

An old Raleigh family celebrates a wedding with worldly fl air

Newlyweds Marco Levati and Elise Dorsett Levati in the garden of her family’s historic Raleigh home.

by LIZA ROBERTS

WWYNN AND JIM DORSETT WERE NEWLYWEDS IN 1985 WHEN THEY MOVED to MidOaks, the beautiful Raleigh home that had already been in the Dorsett family for two generations. Th irty-two years and four grown children later, the house, in its expansive, leafy setting on Wake Drive, is much the same. Many of the heirloom furnishings, books, and art that have fi lled its stately rooms for decades are still in place; the gracious oaks that shade its gardens remain.

The family who lives there, meanwhile, has grown and expanded alongside an increasingly cosmopolitan Raleigh. In April, when the Dorsett’s daughter Elise celebrated her marriage to Milan native Marco Levati with a wedding reception in the garden, the historic homeplace – which turns 100 this year – got a festive dose of Raleigh’s contemporary international flair. Guests hailed from 10 countries. The previous night, they’d shared a dinner that combined cuisines from countries where the couple has spent time, including Switzerland, Thailand, Argentina, Spain, Italy, and the U.S. The groom – an Italian engineer who moved to Raleigh for a job at Zurich-based technology giant ABB – and the bride, a world traveler and a brand director at Raleigh marketing firm New Kind – didn’t foxtrot, they tangoed. Impressively. The tango is how they met here in Raleigh in 2013, and it’s now a dance they teach together at Cirque de Vol on Hargett Street, not far from their home in Boylan Heights. “When I moved away from Raleigh, (it was) because I was so bored,” says Elise. “When I moved back, everything had grown so much. It’s so international. There is so much energy and so much life. And I was really surprised to learn about the tango community here.” At the reception, the couple performed their syncopated steps in the garden. They barrida-ed past a robust, 29-year-old pink azalea bush that was a baby shower gift for

The bride descends the stairs after changing into her tango dress. Wynn and Jim Dorsett, parents of the bride, in the living room.

Elise’s parents before she was born; they boleo-ed among mature hydrangeas that grew from table centerpieces at Wynn’s sister’s bridal luncheon in 1993; they gancho-ed in the same spot that has hosted innumerable family gatherings, Raleigh fundraisers, church picnics, and school events. The couple’s friends and family from all over the world conversed in several languages. “It’s the nature of the world we live in, and the world that Raleigh has become,” says the mother of the bride, “Having it at home was really important to me,” says Elise Dorsett who is learning Italian so that she can better communicate with the family of the groom. Elise says her parents’ hosLevati. “To bring Marco’s family there was a really special pitality was vital to the wedding’s success. “Having it at home was really im- opportunity.” portant to me,” says Elise. “Not only is it beautiful, but my parents have put their heart and soul into that house and the garden. To bring Marco’s family there seemed like a really special opportunity. Also to have friends from Argentina, and Marco’s friends … the whole combination was very special.” The worldly scene might have been hard for Jim’s grandfather, U.S. Senator Willis Smith, to envision when he bought MidOaks in what was then the countryside, on the

outskirts of what was then a small Southern city. But maybe not. Smith’s outlook and experience were notably expansive. From this quintessential Southern homestead, he built a career that helped to grow Raleigh and the region, founding the leading law firm Smith Anderson in 1912, and presiding over the N.C. House of Representatives as Speaker. His expertise also took him far afield: He served as president of the American Bar Association; was a U.S. observer at “They are deliriously happy,” says the Nuremburg Trials; was the chair of the American delegation of the Inter- Parliamentary Union in Switzerland; Wynn Dorsett, the mother of the bride. The bride agrees, and credits and served his country and state as a her mother for making the wedding U.S. Senator. Smith’s law books are still in place in the bookshelves of his corner home office, which hasn’t changed at all come together magically: “I felt like I was floating.” since he worked in it more than 60 years ago. “Most of what is here was already here,” Wynn Dorsett says of the house as a whole. That’s true for the furnishings, and it’s also true for the family’s long-lived appreciation of tradition and home, coupled with an enthusiastic, celebratory engagement with the world beyond. But at the end of the day, what mattered most at the multicultural wedding was universal: “The love of this bride and groom was reflected back to them by the community of friends and family from near and far who gathered to celebrate,” says Wynn Dorsett. “It was a joyful occasion for all of us.”

Marco Levati and Elise Dorsett Levati dance the tango at their wedding reception in the garden of the historic Dorsett family home.