Believe it or not, it was her first time officiating!
Molner and I recently returned from Istanbul, Turkey where I officiated the wedding of our friends Peter Cincotti and Zeynep Onaran. Peter is a singer, songwriter, and killer pianist — don’t believe me? Watch him in action here. Zeynep works for the Financial Times. The newlyweds pulled out all the stops during our visit. Here are my remarks for their ceremony and the story of their relationship. (We had Zeynep’s friend Sanu translate for the many guests who don’t speak English, but I’ve taken that out for Wake-Up Call readers!)
This is my first time officiating a wedding, and I’d like to begin by thanking Peter and Zeynep for giving me this role on this very special day. It is truly an honor. I am here with Sanu Grohe, Zeynep’s good friend, who’s serving as our living, breathing version of Google translate — but even better.
Zeynep and Peter, before we begin, thank you for sharing this spectacular city with all of us — Zeynep, your homeland, and Peter, your new home away from home. From visiting ancient mosques to spotting dolphins in the glittering Bosphorus, from piping hot, pillowy pita and mouthwatering kabobs to the explosion of jewels and cashmere and crafts at the Grand Bazaar, and spending time with old friends to meeting new people who already feel like old friends, you have filled us with Turkish delight — in more ways than one. Being in this magical, vibrant city is an experience we’ll cherish forever. Thank you for your thoughtfulness and generosity.
And while we may be here today to celebrate your love for each other, the people who have gathered are a testament to how much YOU are both loved. Many of your guests have come from far away places: New York City, Los Angeles, London, Rome, Paris, Bangkok, São Paulo, Sydney, Berlin, Hoboken. We were all thrilled to make the trip, but are also thinking of many people in your lives who could not be with us today. I know you miss them.
So here we are. At last. When that song was written back in 1941, it could have been about you two:
“At last
My love has come along
And my lonely days are over
And life is like a song.”
That very same year, when “Oh! Look at Me Now” came out, the songwriters surely envisioned a beaming Peter, basking in his good fortune, watching Zeynep, a beautiful vision in white lace walking toward him.
To say that this day was a long time coming doesn’t begin to explain Peter and Zeynep’s long and winding road to each other. Their story began when Zeynep was 20 and Peter, a much older man, was 26. She was assigned to show Peter and his band around during the Istanbul Jazz Festival. There were a million reasons why it would never go anywhere: As Peter says, they were kids, an ocean away, pursuing their careers, learning, growing, building their lives. And even though they stayed in touch here and there (like when Peter texted Zeynep asking for the recipe for İskender, a Turkish dish he loves), they were in different places. Their paths would periodically converge, only to part ways again.
When Zeynep moved to New York to study, she was no longer geographically undesirable. And there were a few attempts to get together. After they went to a movie, they headed back to Peter’s apartment where he was banging around the kitchen making rigatoni at midnight. Zeynep thought he was nuts. She had a job and responsibilities that just didn’t fit in with a musician’s peripatetic, late-night lifestyle. So once again, they went their separate ways — Zeynep even brought her boyfriend at the time to one of Peter’s shows, that’s how much this was not happening. A couple of other meetups followed, always complicated by current girlfriends, boyfriends, and mixed messages. Does she like me? Does he like me? Where is this going? A love connection, it seemed, just wasn’t in the cards.
Thank God for Tinder. Their relationship had gone a bit cold once again when Zeynep finally called out Peter for lying about his age on his newly created profile. He said he was 29 — he was 34. (Peter, really…) She drew a circle around his age and texted him a laughing emoji. They finally went out on a real date. They learned, as Shakespeare wrote more than 400 years ago, “It’s not in the stars to hold our destiny, but ourselves.”
Zeynep, Peter told me he loves your big heart and quiet power. Your adventurous spirit and willingness to leave your city and your family — when he can’t imagine leaving the Upper East Side. That you always have his back. “If I fall,” he said, “I know she will catch me.”
Peter, Zeynep told me how emotionally in touch you are, how willing you are to learn and grow — that you have opened up her world and added color to her life. This is a relationship built on mutual respect and admiration. And it’s clear how proud you are of each other. And of course, music! It is your oxygen. Whether it’s the keys of a Steinway or the strings of the Qanun, music is and will always be your love language.
Marriage, as you’ve heard over the past few days, isn’t always easy. Peter’s best man Alex recommended humor and selective hearing. It does require patience, compassion, compromise and humility. Be the one who says, “I’m sorry” or, “I was wrong.” (I still have trouble with that last one, although candidly I seldom am wrong.) Be grateful for every day and for each other. Be kind. And yes, laugh…a lot.
Now. Let’s do this thing!
