Sunday, December 26, 2021
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I have had the great luck to be a member of the Model family for 30 years now, being married to Ben for half my life. DadAlan was such a vibrant, talented, smart, kind, loving and ever curious human being. A loving husband, Father, Father-Law and Grandfather. The beautiful artistic life he and MomAlice created throughout their 61 years of marriage is and always will be an inspiration to us all. We watched both of them bounce back with fierce determination from the serious car accident they had 18 years ago- as soon as possible, they resumed their physically active life of world traveling, quartets, photography exhibits, tennis, theatre, symphony, pickle ball and bike riding- so much more active than Ben or myself ever were! They have been incredible role models for us for what it means to build and share a wonderful life with someone and the importance of family. After my own Father passed away, Alice and Alan travelled to Illinois to see the show my Dad had been writing when he died. They always came to see me when I was still performing. They happily schlepped to the middle of Ohio to see our daughter Molly star in Billy Elliott and as recently as last month they travelled to Long Island with their dear friend to see Molly in Elf. And I am quite sure that they saw more of Ben’s shows together than any other super fans- even me! They have been the greatest support system any family could ever have!
I want to share a special gift that DadAlan, the artist, gave me that I didn’t realize fully until Wednesday as I was doing errands on the upper west side, in a fog, stunned from the news of his sudden passing. As I walked up Broadway, I saw a large crowd of people receiving groceries being given out by a church on the corner of 93rd Street. The sun had begun to set and the light was dramatic. These people were all ages, shapes and sizes and of every ethnic background. I was waiting for the light to turn to cross through the crowd, and I was struck with the realization that I was seeing this scene through the eyes of Alan Model. I was not just seeing, but I was also looking at the faces, at the body language, I was looking for the stories in that crowd. It has become second nature to me over the years. I actually remember the first time I had that experience. I was on a crosstown bus that was really crowded. When the bus stopped at Fifth Avenue, I saw a ground floor fancy apartment that was missing its window. The men replacing the window were sitting on the windowless ledge eating sandwiches, while a fancy lady inside looked like she was making her own lunch in her kitchen, completely oblivious to the workmen. A few other people on the sidewalk looked disgruntled they couldn’t squeeze in to the bus. I remember calling DadAlan to tell him about it and he seemed delighted with the scene I described and told me that’s why it’s always good to have a camera with you. That is the gift he gave me. I know it will be with me forever. When I caught myself actively looking into that crowd, I took a grateful breath. I thought of the Sondheim lyric: “Look at all the things you’ve done for me: Opened up my eyes, taught me how to see, notice every tree, understand the light, concentrate on now—”
Though I will deeply miss seeing dear DadAlan, I will always carry the gift of seeing through his eyes with me.
His memory will be a blessing to us all forever.
