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With the New York party scene on hiatus, here is how some patrons and society figures are spending their time and resources during the coronavirus pandemic.
Age: 62
Occupation: president of the New York Academy of Art
Favorite charities: Women in Need; the Heart of Art, an auction for the American Nurses Foundation.
Where are you hunkering down? Near Delray Beach, Fla., with his husband, Greg Unis.
How are you filling the hours? I get up by 7 a.m. and give myself an hour to assemble my thoughts over coffee and the paper. I go straight to the editorials. They always kick my mind into gear.
I then do an Instagram post of an artist from our community before starting the workday with a Zoom meeting of the school’s Office of Emergency Management. I like the social contact and seeing their faces every morning. Today I will spend a couple hours doing virtual studio critiques over Zoom with students. It’s the highlight of my week.
Which charities are important to you? My focus is the New York Academy of Art. Because the academy’s annual Tribeca Ball was postponed, we are presenting work that would have been seen on the studio tours that night, as Tribeca Ball Online.
What do you do for a change of pace? I walk the dogs, a godsend. I often call my mother during that time. She is in lockdown in a senior living residence, and I hate that she is forced to spend so much time alone. I’m in a book club. Tonight, we’ll be on Zoom discussing Toni Morrison’s “The Bluest Eye.” Her voice is transporting. Greg and I make dinner at home every night. We usually have a cocktail while we cook. It makes every night feel like an occasion.
Do you have a word for others trying to get through this challenging time? Anyone who has ever had a hankering to make art, start now. It’s calming and you can do it anywhere. I try to paint every day in the studio I’ve set up in my garage. The piece I’m working on is a group of swimmers in the ocean. There is no land. It’s unclear whether they are enjoying themselves or trying to get to safety. It feels like now.
Age: 48
Occupation: artist
Favorite charities: Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund, Fairy Foundation.
Where are you hunkering down? Orient, N.Y.
How is self-isolation affecting you and your family? At first there is a weird feeling of release from not having anything urgent to do. The first week, John [Currin, her husband] worked. We stayed in the city. But just before lockdown we left for Orient in the North Fork of Long Island. You can walk to the water there. Our kids have their friends. There are a lot of art-world people, though we’re not allowed to see each other.
What has been the emotional fallout? I think of this as a worldwide menopause, not in a fertility-related sense, but as a kind of restructuring. But instead of using this time for our benefit, some of us are making ourselves mentally ill.
It’s like we’re going through the Kubler-Ross stages of grief. At first you can’t believe what’s happening. Then you get angry and want to change the prognosis. Then you’re resigned. That has a lot to do with why it’s sometimes hard to get up in the morning. You think, “How am I going to change the outcome?”
Are you finding ways to lend a hand? We’re contributing to the restaurants in New York that we go to all the time, through their employee funds. You have to support the local people, those in our immediate sphere: the delivery people, the hospitals, the housekeepers, the police, all the people who are supporting us right now.
What gives you comfort? I’m cooking up a storm, making some crazy dishes I’ve never made before: batter-fried halibut, a concoction of duck breast with black peppercorn. I check in with friends. Once a week we have a Zoom cocktail hour. At first you think, “I really don’t need this.” And then you realize, you do.
Age: 57
Occupation: television producer, author, screenwriter
Favorite charities: the American Ballet Theater; LDF (formerly the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund).
Where are you hunkering down? Her apartment in Manhattan.
How has this crisis changed your routines? We were in script mode when the pandemic struck. I had come back to New York from Los Angeles, where I’m head writer for the new Lena Waithe comedy “Twenties.”
I’d intended to spend the time with my husband, daughter and dog, then return to Los Angeles. But the night I landed, Dr. Fauci made the plea to eliminate extraneous travel. Since then, I’ve been working from home. As writers we are so fortunate to need only our imaginations and a laptop to create entire worlds.
Have there been other bright spots? One of the silver linings for me is having my high school-aged child at home. She left for boarding school in ninth grade, but I now have the pleasure of feeding her dinner every night and bringing her a cup of tea while she studies.
How else are you finding balance? Rituals keep me sane and buoyed. Daily walks, meals, lighting a fire every evening and listening to Erik Larson’s “The Splendid and the Vile,” his gripping account of Churchill et famille during the London Blitz — these have become my staples. I maintain a daily group text chat with a coterie of close female friends. We exchange tips on supplies, recipes, photos and political thoughts.
Have you made plans to give back? I see an enormous opportunity for diverse arts institutions to come together collectively once the worst has passed. My focus will be on the performing arts. The example of people singing from their windows in Italy has only reinforced what I have always believed: that the arts are nearly as important as food and drink in sustaining us. Just watch an A.B.T. dancer’s Instagram feed.
Interviews have been edited.