yesterday is gone the story of rosemarie kanzler

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YESTERDAY IS GONE
THE STORY OF ROSEMARIE KANZLER
AS TOLD TO KATHRYN LIVINGSTON
BALLO 1985
Still she never regretted acquiring the huge yellow and white, tile-adorned Portuguese
colonial house she named “La Favorita” around which spread 900 hectares of Pampas
grazing land. As with the Peloponnese villa in Greece, she fell in love with the Argentina
property on sight. The prospect of remodeling was a shot in the arm. The grounds, with t
heir huge beautiful trees, presented a special challenge for landscaping. A relatively unknown
North African decorator from Paris, Alberto Pinto, came to Argentina to help Rosemarie
with the decor which she conceived along eclectic lines. She wanted the estancia to be a
replacement for the chalet in St. Moritz. It was summer in Argentina when it was winter in
Switzerland. As it turned out, the thick-walled colonial structure was perfect for housing the
furnishings from the Alpine house.
The heavy Swiss antiques, Bavarian baroque sculptures, the tapestries and antlers, the pewter
and Augsburg silver, eagle-shaped mirrors and tables exuded a unique atmosphere when
mixed with South American artifacts such as the silver gaucho spurs and ceremonial saddles,
paintings from Peru's Cuzco School and colorful Brazilian canvases depicting the birds of the
Amazon.
With the help of a young Argentinian professional couple, Jose Maria Garcia Calvo and his
wife Josefina, she found local upholsterers and craftsmen to execute the thousands of perfectionistic details.
FESTA
When it was all finished, she wanted to thank the people who had been so hospitable to her
and Jean- Pierre and helped them get established in Argentina. She decided gifts wouldn't
suffice, so she invited them with their sons and daughters to a ball in her estancia. The thank
you gesture grew and grew until it became one of the last of the famous international parties
given in this century. Gossip columnists around the world referred to it as 'The Yellow Ball.''
Rosemarie asked women to wear gowns keyed by the Portuguese yellow of the estancia.
Saint Laurent, who made Rosemarie's yellow-and-gold gown for the fete, praised her for her
choice. ''Yellow is one of the few colors that flatters blondes, brunettes and redheads
equally.'' Rosemarie invited her friends from all over the world. They all showed up.
In the wake of 'The Yellow Ball” a whole week’s worth of parties were given by prominent
Argentinians at various other estancias. Argentinians welcomed the chance to entertain all
the visiting Americans and Europeans. These parties allowed them to show the warm
sociability and proudly elegant side of Argentine hospitality.
For her part, Rosemarie had pitched a yellow-and-white striped canvas tent. It was so solid
and strong that the wildest storm sweeping the Pampas couldn't have dislodged anybody or
anything. Again the party decorator Alberto Pinto came over from Paris. He spoke fluent
Spanish and brought with him the fashionable flower designer, Bruno Roy. Bruno Roy’s
most yellow arrangements of white eggplants, oranges, artichokes, grapefruits, cabbages and
cauliflowers were breathtaking conversation pieces. A huge podium was built for dancing.
All the male guests received Borsalino hats as party favors. The Italian immigrants had worn
Borsalinos when they had arrived in the new land. Men danced with their hats on. There were
rip-roaring Argentine tangos. The party started with a showy torch reception and ended with
fireworks. In the balmy March twilight looking outflow her rooftop terrace she beheld the
approaching line of cars with their head lights on. It looked like a magical convoy coming
her way through the six-kilometer road of flat countryside of the Pampas. The normally
quiet, pastoral tableland was foil of electricity. The locals had never seen anything like it.
Forty gauchos with their sons - some not more than ten years old - awaited the cars on
horseback.
In their typical Argentine outfits with their flat black gaucho hats, red handkerchiefs around
their necks, the special riding pants called bombachas and their horses caparisoned with
silver-with-gold, they stole the show.
Each gaucho had a blue-and-white Argentine flag stuck into his saddle. Holding hand
torches, they lined up on the road leading to the colonial arched gates of the entrance.
The whole pageantry was unforgettable for all who had come from near and far.
While the guests sipped their champagne, there were periodic toasts:
“Viva Argentina!”
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