by Beatrice Bikali
Floodlights, seen for miles around, rest on a historic landmark in downtown Detroit. Shining like a jewel in the night sky, the Guardian Building is ready to party. Valet attendants open car doors and women in furs step out into the night. Is it a Hollywood premier? Is it opening night at the opera? No, it’s Fanclub Foundation’s annual benefit for the arts, “Swingtime ’98.”Upon entering the building, the undeniable sounds of a swing band fill the lobby—ornate arches and columns resonate—mesmerizing all who see and hear. As guests mount the steps and move toward the music, some stop short at the sheer majesty of this art deco master-piece. Others press forward—the sounds are just too irresistible. Like the Pied Piper, The Imperial Swing Band draws couples onto the dance floor where generations collide in half-time rhythm.
“This is great,” one fellow exclaims, out of breath from a jitterbug. “When I’m not dancing, I can’t keep from looking up at the ceiling of this room. The architec-ture is magnificent! What a great place to have a party!”
Zoot suiters, with red carnations, quietly work the room while guys in slouched hats twirl girls in whirling skirts, occasionally tossing them over their shoulders, to Duke Ellington’s “A Train.”
The singer, in long black gloves and gown, stands before the crowd carrying a torch in her voice, singing lyrics from haunting ’40s melodies. She then jump-starts the room with sizzling jitterbug tunes. In a quiet corner, a femme fatale in platform shoes turns to adjust the seam of her nylons—steamy scenes straight from a 1940 Sam Spade paperback.
Arm in arm, a couple passes to sign up for the silent auction. She looks longingly at the Oriental rug donated by Hagopian World of Rugs and the golden Detroit landmark ornaments donated by Gail’s Office Supply. His interest is in the gift certificates from several of Detroit’s finest eateries.
Moving on, they stop at Joe Muer’s table to sample the cuisine and then continue to more of Detroit’s best restaurant tables, like the Oakland Grill and Excalibur. The wine table has a line, but the couple happily waits for a glass of Bordeaux. “The food is so good,” he says, sampling a steak and rice concoction. “It’s like the taste-fest in the summer in the New Center area.”
“Only different,” his date chimes in. “Very different...now this is really classy.”
Upstairs, on the thirty-second floor, looking out over the Detroit-Windsor skyline, hips move to a hot, Latin/salsa combo, while others stroll through the art gallery sampling decadent desserts and sipping after-dinner drinks. “This is unbelievable,” exclaims a Zelda Fitzgerald look-alike dressed in vintage ’20s holding a martini glass. “I’ve never, ever been to anything like this before.”
Quite simply, a time capsule split wide open Saturday night, and guests were transported back in time.