I have been putting off writing this, lest it sound like an obituary.   But the 2008-2009 opera season opens next month, and it won't be the same. Kirk Browning has died.                          

You know Kirk. You sure know his work. For decades he developed  new camera techniques that enhanced the broadcasts of Live From Lincoln Center. He directed such televised treasures as You Can't Take It With You, Death of a Salesman, and Our Town.  He was a true television pioneer, having won multiple Emmy Awards, two Christopher Awards, a CITA Award, and a George Foster Peabody Award.  He was also an artist, a scientist and a remarkable person.

I first met Kirk and his wife, Barbara, in Tarrytown, NY when I was a child. She, in a black turban, had the beautifully defined features of a model. He had deep, twinkling eyes and a glint of silver in his hair. With their classy good looks and warm bearing, they seemed like royalty to me.  They were a singular and absolutely delightful combination. We were so convinced of their blue blood, that when my cousin and I (two adolescent girls at the time) saw the brass bathroom fixtures during a dinner party, we were absolutely convinced they were solid gold! Versailles? Bah! We had the Brownings!

The Brownings had a profound influence on my life. They modeled goodness, virtue, generosity and possibility.  Those of us who were touched by them learned. In style.

But, it seems there was always a literary component to knowing them, too. Kirk directed the groundbreaking  Amahl and the Night Visitors and invited our families to watch it right there in the Browning living room!   When Love Story was published, we lunched on a rice salad recipe that Erich Segal had given Barbara. And when I discovered the musical Mame, Kirk shared stories of his early career-when Patrick Dennis was his roommate!  It seemed literature and music always took on a new dimension with Kirk and Barbara. It became more alive. More relevant.  What a great thing to do with your life!

Lincoln Center  and the Metropolitan Opera will not be the same.  And, thank goodness, none of us will be the same. Thank you to Kirk (and Barbara) for living life with verve, confidence, imagination!  Thank you showing us how!