“Portraits on the Page”

Barbara Apoian, were she a man, would be described as “one heavy dude.” She is cosmopolitan, intelligent, witty, well-informed, articulate, well-read, and wields one mean pen. And we don’t mean maybe. (She also happens to be extraordinarily open and modest, which, in our experience, is normally unheard of with such attributes.)

Two years ago she entranced a full house of listeners one bright summer Sunday afternoon at Foothills with the reading of several episodes from her memoirs. Some had surprise endings a la O. Henry. Others recounted true adventure tales. In still others, she shared personal trials, or expressed some hard-won philosophy, or evinced political feelings about women candidates for office. No two were alike and you never had an inkling of what she would come up with next. Clever lady. She sat in an armchair on stage, simulating the intimacy and informality of a living room. She smiled warmly, invited complicity, and very clearly enjoyed every minute of her presentation.

Barbara was born in England, lived (barely) through the London Blitz, in the 1950s started a love affair with France which endures to this day (she met her American husband there at the same time), successfully took on corporate life in New York City for decades, and lives now with her (same) husband in the peace and quiet of the Catskills. That is, when she’s not gadding about Palm Springs, or Cannes, or Morocco.

Her audience that afternoon laughed. Uproariously. And cried, too. (A good gentle cry is good for the soul, every now and then.) And then roared its approval at the end with endless bravos and standing applause .

We are just lucky enough to have a return engagement on Saturday, October 3rd at four o’clock. I personally guarantee full satisfaction. And I will personally refund your money if you feel in any way shortchanged.

Deal?