Tribute to Dorothy Lichtenstein
Southampton Writers Conference
July 10, 2024
Robert Reeves
Thank you, Christian, for permitting me a few minutes to acknowledge the passing of our beloved friend and long-time benefactor, Dorothy Lichtenstein. In our programs she has been known for years simply as Dorothy, and we invoke her name almost reverentially. Though this is an inevitable moment for us all, her passing feels devastating to me and to so many in our community. We are heartbroken. But rest assured that Dorothy wouldn’t want this moment of remembering to cast a pall on the evening, much less the conference. That wasn’t who she was.
Dorothy first became aware of us at precisely this time of year, during the writers conference, 21 years ago. She loved to be around writers because she loved to laugh, and in those days, in particular, we laughed a lot. Of course the laughter didn’t hide – for her or for us – the seriousness of our commitment to the work. We just believed, rightly or wrongly, that creativity almost requires a sense of humor.
Dorothy came up to me after an especially hilarious evening with Mel Brooks – she later reported never having laughed so much – and she asked me how she could support our programs. That was the first time I met her, and I’ve said many times, that moment forever ruined me for fundraising. If you didn’t know this, Dorothy was take-your-breath-away gorgeous, and I was a bit of rube then, certainly as a fundraiser, and I thought that’s how it worked – just stand around, leaning against a fence post, a straw in your mouth, until a really beautiful woman approaches you and offers significant financial support to your programs. Of course I know better now.
It was the beginning of an amazing partnership. She grew to love our programs and to love the Southampton campus. She became so much more than simply our benefactor. She was our collaborator, counselor, friend. And the results of our partnership with Dorothy have been spectacular. The inventory of our programs and locations is too long to list, so I encourage you to poke around the web site.
Dorothy was exactly what a philanthropist should be and so few are: She did not seek to impose her will on the world. She was modest, even self-effacing, perfectly content to remain invisible, behind the scenes. She was proud of us, and proud of everything we accomplished together, but she did not relish putting her name on things. It was no small gesture for Dorothy to let us associate our programs and our community so publicly with her name.
So why then, two years ago, did we gather our programs officially under the umbrella of her name: the Lichtenstein Center?
It was the result of a shared fear and a shared hope. The fear was that the arts are increasingly vulnerable in the world, under attack and in retreat everywhere, including and even especially in higher education. The hope – our fragile hope – was that lending her name, along with the enormous cultural significance it represents, would help shield us, protect us both in the world and in the university.
What Dorothy gave us, finally, is something few artists, much less academics, ever get: the opportunity to invest in ourselves and our vision, to do what all artists do, finally – a chance to work hard and live by our wits, and if we are successful, to achieve the even greater gift: the chance to control our own destiny.
The best way to reward her faith in us, I think, is for all of you here to continue what you’re doing right now: continue to write books, to make films, perhaps to enter emerging realms of creative endeavor, but always to be passionate about art. You might also – in these truly unsettling, even frightening times – honor her by following one of the founding principles of the Lichtenstein Center – this bit of advice is right there on our web site: Do not cower. Laugh whenever possible.
So, I wish you a joyful and productive conference.
And dear Dorothy, we miss you more than we can say.