In Search of Lost Times: A Chateau Wedding

NCIS’s Caleb Alexander Smith Marries Sports Illustrated’s Lindsay McCormick

As their sprinter van pulled up to the quintessential French Chateau, the passengers’ glee was blunted by an unwelcome and unexpected revelation. Until this point, the McCormicks, hailing from Houston, and the Smiths, New Jerseyans, had done their best to embrace the many whims of the bride and groom. The previously unacquainted families had endured trans-Atlantic flights, had spent a week crammed into a Parisian condo together, and had done it all with exuberance and open minds. All had gone well enough thus far. But then, something unacceptable: They were about to lose their phones.

The architects of this plan, Lindsay McCormick and Caleb Alexander Smith, initially met in Los Angeles in 2017 and bonded over golden-age, screwball comedies, 1960’s French New Wave cinema, Wagnerian operas, and 20th century oil paintings—sharing a love for things bygone. In fact, their favorite trip together had been when Smith enveloped McCormick in the gothic architecture of his 18th-century alma mater, Yale. That was 2019, mere months before the couple would join the planet in the locked-down life of Zooms, FaceTimes, and bare apartment walls.

Smith, an actor and filmmaker, saw his slate of projects fall away during the pandemic. McCormick, a sports broadcaster, had—like so many others—experienced a health crisis that sent in her and out of the hospital in search of an accurate diagnosis. Despite their engagement in early 2022, the couple admits they’d lost some of their initial optimism and exploratory posture towards life.

When McCormick pitched her wedding vision to Smith as a “family vacation abroad instead of the conventional two hours with three hundred people in a ballroom,” it was met with a welcoming smile. Having only seen Paris through the likes of Godard and Truffaut, McCormick pinpointed France as the ultimate destination. And when the two finally chose the Chateau de Villette, a 17th century “mini Versailles” that’s hosted the likes Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, their own desire became clearer and a focused plan began to crystalize: They would go back in time for the wedding of a lifetime. 

Every decision thereafter gained a degree of intentionality. Each element would adhere to the theme. There would be no contemporary music; McCormick’s hair would be styled akin to classic Hollywood vixen Veronica Lake; and most importantly, under no circumstances would there be any phones.

The families of the couple had little time to complain as they were whisked from the van into ornately decorated bedrooms gleaming with antique luxury. “Johnny Depp stayed in this room last week,” whispered one of the chateau attendants. “I heard Tom Cruise took over the estate when shooting Mission Impossible,” responded one of the guests. But even with 185 acres of achingly perfect French classicism to explore, one of the guests managed to retrieve their phone and actively reported MLB playoff scores to keen listeners in a hushed voice. These families did, after all, hail from Houston and New Jersey, and the stars were aligned for yet another Astros and Yankees showdown.

This fist of modernity smashed through the glass facade of nostalgia only so much, however. The ceremony was held in the chateau’s wood-paneled chapel and began the evening with a stately, even solemn tone. The key transposed from minor to major with the cocktail hour’s accordion and upright bass duo offering mid 20th century French classics. The bride and groom were busy about the estate posing for “unposed” photos and missed the cocktail hour’s speakeasy themed mixology and gustatory delights (e.g. ōra king salmon in gravlax powdered with poutargue). This was because the "First Looks” procedure, where a couple meets and smiles for cameras before walking down the aisle (so they can later enjoy cocktail hour), was deemed “not traditional enough” for the bride and groom’s Chateau time machine.

The wedding dinner, staged majestically at a table for 13 in the Chateau’s orangerie, was received in such a way that the Chef was welcomed with a rousing ovation when she peeped in to wave “Hi” to her guests. But for many, the highlight of the evening came just after dinner when previously unnoticed side doors slowly opened, revealing a gypsy jazz trio stationed in the Chateau’s library. Guests were invited to lounge with flutes of champagne as the trio, featured on Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris soundtrack, played a lively selection of Django Reinhardt-centric tunes.

But if one were to think this aesthetic and corporeal stimulation would be enough to keep digital citizens from scratching at their necks, one would be wrong. Sources report that, ironically, the older generation was the most antsy at their digital untethering. “I wish I could record this” was uttered several times throughout the night. And “Are we getting photos of the food?” was another cry for help. 

In the midnight hour, the guests beckoned the groom’s sister-in-law to accompany the instrumental jazz trio with her voice. On staff at the music department of a hometown church, the vocalist at first demurred, but then finally acquiesced. Fighting through both the language barrier and a measure of shyness, she asked the trio if they could play the bolero classic Bésame Mucho. The accomplished trio at first seemed hesitant, but ultimately acquiesced, counted in the tune, and plucked away. The trio’s trepidation vanished within the initial bars of the piece as they soared to new heights with their sonorous guest performer. All around the library, guests settled back into chairs, lapping up the music like a stranded man who’s finally found water in the dessert.

But then came a wrinkle in this development. The photographer had departed, and likewise the Super 8mm videographer. Was this performance going to go completely undocumented? But adhering earnestly to the policy, not one guest whipped out a phone and struggled to find the right framing. No one live streamed the moment to share (or gloat) with online followers. And not one selfie was snapped. The moment, sublime and surreal, was captured in memory and imagination only. It was beautiful, and then it was gone. And in a day full of fairy tale escapism, this may have been the biggest fairy tale of all.

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Aliquam bibendum, turpis eu mattis iaculis, ex lorem mollis sem, ut sollicitudin risus orci quis tellus. Phasellus sodales massa malesuada tellus fringilla, nec bibendum tellus blandit. Sed a ligula quis sapien lacinia egestas. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae. Aliquam bibendum, turpis eu mattis iaculis, ex lorem mollis sem, ut sollicitudin risus orci quis tellus.