Tribute | Peter Donnelly: arts champion, charmer, friend

I first met Peter Donnelly in the 1980s. I was evaluating theaters around the country for the National Endowment for the Arts. Peter Donnelly was then manager of the prominent Dallas Theatre Center, though Seattle (where he'd run the Seattle Repertory Theatre for years) was still his true home.

I came to Texas to review his company, and Peter met me at the airport in style. He bombed up in a snazzy sports convertible, wearing a paperwhite suit, a scarlet silk tie and radiating Irish bonhomie. As he whisked me off to have lunch with some mega-rich Dallas types (not part of my job, but who could object?), he entertained me with a rapid stream of the most entertaining, convivial, informative chat imaginable.

That was Peter: voluble, generous, ebullient, irrepressible. His sudden death last week at 70, from pancreatic cancer, deprived this city of a fiercely committed and constructive arts advocate. But it also robbed us of a terrific human being.

Some people called Peter "the Pope," because he wielded so much power in the arts funding world. But his true genius was simply a talent for people. He was an incorrigible charmer, who knew everybody, heard everything and could work a room like nobody's business.

When I moved to Seattle in 1991 to work at The Times, he welcomed me warmly. By then Peter was back here, too, heading up the philanthropic organization, ArtsFund. We had our own little lunch club (one of many for Peter, I'm sure), and periodically got together for a meal and a schmooze.

Man, did Peter give great schmooze! He didn't betray confidences. But he also was a fountain of fact, advice and opinion for someone covering the Seattle arts beat.

A lot of arts folk say they have no use for critics. But Peter read reviews by me and others religiously. He often complimented me, which of course felt great. But he also wasn't shy about correcting some arcane bit of local theater history I got wrong, or setting me straight if our opinions on a show diverged.

I saw less of him after his retirement, but I loved spotting Peter's white-thatched head bobbing in the crowd at a Seattle Rep or 5th Avenue Theatre opening, and catching up with him on the latest.

The last time I saw him was just a few weeks before his death on March 28. I miss him already.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com