January-February
The first time I perk up about the pandemic, which I knew about (but it was always in the background, somewhere else) is in January, in Davos, when a Chinese friend tells me she is stuck in Switzerland, not wanting to return home. From then on I know it is serious, but like prior epidemics, SARS or Ebola, I expect it to stay put “wherever it started”.
The first time I perk up about the pandemic, which I knew about (but it was always in the background, somewhere else) is in January, in Davos, when a Chinese friend tells me she is stuck in Switzerland, not wanting to return home. From then on I know it is serious, but like prior epidemics, SARS or Ebola, I expect it to stay put “wherever it started”.
I return to New York at the end of January and begin prepping for another trip to Switzerland, when the first major alarm goes off — the Basel Carnival (Basler Fasnacht) is cancelled! I am pretty sure this has never happened in 800 years (well give or take the World Wars). Like most people, we find these precautions a little exaggerated. My friends in Basel speculate that it could be postponed until the Spring. Then slowly but surely, the art world begins to shut down as well: there is news of the Louvre taking a few days off, and Art Basel is up in the air.
March 5
A dinner at the Ambassador’s Residence in honor of the New York Philharmonic, the Coronavirus is on everyone’s mind. The ambassador confides that this might be the last event he hosts in a while. Orders from Bern instruct us to stop handshaking, so to everyone’s great amusement, we “elbow bump” instead. At my table, one of the dinner guests, who runs communications at the Peninsula Hotels, tells stories of emptied out hotels in Hong Kong. I have no idea this will be my last social event in New York, and my last time in Manhattan for a while.