Anna Wintour, Karl Lagerfeld and Ingrid Sischy and the Gordon Parks Centennial Gala. (Leandro Justen/PatrickMcMullan.com)

We strolled into the Museum of Modern Art last Tuesday, for a gala honoring the centennial of the birth of the renowned photojournalist Gordon Parks, who passed away at 93 in 2006.

A quick nod to the door guy, and then promptly to the bar. Still off the sauce, we grabbed a seltzer and turned around to survey the scene, only to be immediately interrupted by a bronzed figure that had surveyed our less than macho bar order. “Did you just order a sparkling water, m’boy?” photographer Peter Beard asked us.

“Regrettably so,” we admitted to the man whose legendary life-long bender makes Bowie’s Thin White Duke phase look like rehab.

“Very sorry to hear that,” he said, extending a hand, the very one that he touched Cheryl Tiegs with so many years prior.

Mr. Beard spoke to us about the Gordon Parks Foundation. “I’ve been involved with it since before you were born, but it’s my wife Nejma who’s on the advisory board,” he replied proudly.

We noticed a wrinkle in the space-time continuum out of the corner of our eye. It was the monochromatic septuagenarian sun god of fashion: Karl Lagerfeld. He cut a swath through the crowd in his calculated yet effortless way that we’ve come to know and love, signaling that it was, in fact, time to sit down.

As we climbed the stairs to the second-floor atrium, it became clear that the seat-to-guest ratio was a bit off.  What should have been a subdued sit-down process quickly becomes a game of sudden-death musical chairs, but this wasn’t a pack of snotnose asthmatics in an elementary classroom. We were playing with Sarah Jessica Parker, Russell Simmons, and Anna Wintour.

Waiters and busboys frantically searched for extra chairs as more than a few tables, who’d paid big bucks for plates of filet, found themselves short a seat or two.

While extra chairs maintained a holding pattern above the heads of the rich and famous, we’d been cleared for landing. We sat next to James Murphy, of LCD Soundsystem, who was serving as the evening’s DJ. He admitted that he’s been a bit overworked lately, despite his retirement from the band.

“Originally we had no intention of filming the four-hour ‘last’ concert at Madison Square Garden, but at the eleventh hour we did. I’m still editing the thing together.”

We noted that the last concert was pseudo-religious evening for us, and Mr. Murphy hinted that was the idea behind the film, titled Shut Up and Play the Hits, which will be playing in theaters across the globe July 18, one night only.

“It’s for the people who didn’t get to experience it the way it was meant to be,” he said, seemingly still apologetic for the online ticket-sales debacle that caused the band to add three additional shows before the final performance last spring.

Anderson Cooper, son of Gloria Vanderbilt who was a long-time friend of Mr. Parks, took the stage and cued up the rest of the evening with a few anecdotes the man of the evening: “The guy made Shaft, people!” he exclaimed, leading into a heartwarming recounting of his interactions with the photographer as a young man.

Clive Davis, Annie Leibovitz, and John Legend followed, giving speeches laden with anecdotes, professional and personal, about Mr. Parks, whose body of work was expansive and will continue to touch many.