Secrets and lies
The cult of celebrity is so strong and so pervasive that even exclusive businesses have trouble preventing news leaks. Tessa Fox learns how some top hotels manage the media.
When pop singer Britney Spears made a brief trip to London earlier this year to appear on Top of the Pops, the media's hunger for even the tiniest morsel of information about her visit was apparently insatiable.
By the end of the singer's stay at the Mandarin Oriental hotel in London's Knightsbridge - where, according to press reports, she hired the Imperial Suite at a cost of £4,700 a night - such personal information as the bill for sessions at the hotel's spa were in the public domain.
Although the hotel's press office insists that the whole piece was entirely fabricated, and that there had therefore been no breach of confidentiality, the incident raises issues that concern most top hotels: how best to preserve the privacy of high-profile guests, and how to prevent leaks of information that can infuriate an important client, jeopardise lucrative repeat business and damage the hotel's reputation.
It may be impossible to control the dissemination of made-up stories, or to anticipate a member of the public talking to the press about something they've witnessed in a hotel, or to control an excited crowd of fans and photographers, but hotels that attract high-profile guests clearly do what they can to preserve clients' privacy. For most, one simple policy is key: denial. "If someone rings up asking if Britney Spears is staying, we politely say that we don't have any guest by that name," says a spokeswoman for the Mandarin Oriental.
It may seem unreasonable to deny a famous guest's presence when the paparazzi are photographing the superstar as she goes in and out, but most celebrities adopt an alias, and hotel personnel are under strict instructions always to refer to the person by that name. "The agent gives us the pseudonym," explains Sally Beck, director of sales and marketing at the five-star Landmark London hotel. "All calls for that person are vetted, even when the caller uses the correct pseudonym."
If hotels are denying the very presence of a celebrity, it is not surprising that they claim never to discuss any other details of a visit. "We have a very strict policy of disclosing no information whatsoever," says a spokeswoman for the Mandarin Oriental. "Our reputation is built on that, and it's why our market is growing." Obviously, if a celebrity's agent uses the hotel for press interviews, it is hard to deny a presence, but in that case the publicity is driven by the agent rather than the hotel.
Even Skibo Castle and Estate - the private members' club set in 7,500 acres in Dornoch, Sutherland, which shot into the public consciousness when pop diva Madonna and film director Guy Ritchie married there last January - makes no obvious capital out of such a widely reported event, though the association alone can have done nothing but good for the membership tally. Sales and marketing manager Adrienne Eastwood refuses to discuss the event even now, and there's no mention of it on the property's Web site. "We're a private members' club so it's in our interest to protect every confidentiality," says Eastwood. "We don't comment on specific events. People come here precisely to find privacy."
Of course, it's not just pop stars who require such careful handling. London's 51 Buckingham Gate, the luxury serviced apartments tucked away behind 24-hour security, wrought-iron gates and a large courtyard in St James's, has been the first port of call for many a high-profile politician or dignitary visiting the capital since the complex opened 18 months ago. Manager Liam Ryan, who anticipates about 10 high-profile guests a year, says that diplomats present a far bigger challenge than any show-business celebrity. (That includes so-called Nasty Nick, the reality TV contestant who was whizzed to 51 Buckingham Gate after his infamous eviction from the Big Brother house last summer. "The producers called us just two hours before," says Ryan, "but somehow the paparazzi knew to come here, too.")
"A visit from a prime minister last year was very, very stressful," says Ryan. "All staff had to be specially interviewed, details of their backgrounds given, and they weren't allowed to change jobs for the duration of the stay." Another top politician was constantly surrounded by 10 people, there was a security cordon and canopy at the entrance to protect him, the Foreign Office and Scotland Yard were involved, meeting rooms were debugged, and a whole floor was given over to offices. "And," says Ryan, "it was only a two-day visit."
A place such as 51 Buckingham Gate earns its reputation among diplomats from the quality of its staff as well as practical details. "The fact that we have butlers is key," says Ryan, "because we try to minimise the number of people who interact with a high-profile guest. The butler becomes a single point of contact. We're also lucky because staff are loyal, and a returning guest can often request the same staff."
The Landmark London attracts similar high-profile guests. "That's our main market," says Beck, "so we're used to dealing with very sensitive security and confidentiality issues. If the prime minister of Israel were staying, for example, you can guarantee people would know about it, but we have special procedures to protect someone like that - such as providing private entrances and working closely with Special Branch. It's all managed in a very low-key way so there's no disruption to other guests."
Whether a hotel is temporary home to Britney Spears or Ariel Sharon, it is ultimately the responsibility of the staff to ensure that a stay meets the expectations of such guests. That means no autograph hunting, no photography, always using the alias, and no discussion of celebrity guests - even socially. Confidentiality clauses are common, and any member of staff found in breach of them can face serious disciplinary action, to the extent of losing their job.
At the Halcyon in London's Holland Park, known as a celebrity bolt hole away from the West End, sales and marketing manager Nicola Moorhouse says that there have never been any breaches of confidentiality - a record she puts down to the professionalism of staff. "It can be beneficial and exciting to be seen as a hotel which attracts the ‘celebrity set'," she says, "but we would never, ever try to gain publicity on the back of one of our guests."
Her comments are echoed by many, and she, like others, clearly puts far greater emphasis on providing an environment that high-profile guests will want to return to, rather than counting the column inches in the popular press.
Stars eat out
The issue of guest confidentiality is not confined to the hotel industry. London restaurant the Ivy, with its famously star-studded clientele, is a magnet for paparazzi eager to snap the idol of the moment and to keep their newspaper and magazine paymasters supplied with front-page picture material.
Such is the restaurant's reputation that actress Joan Collins chose to hold her hen party there last month. But when the venue and details about the event were leaked to the press, Collins cancelled and held it at another location.
How did the leak happen? Ivy manager Mitchell Everard declined to comment on the incident, saying that it is the restaurant's policy not to discuss business, but he firmly rejected the suggestion that tip-offs come from within the restaurant. "We rely on staff understanding the type of guests we have," he says.
So private does the restaurant want to keep its business that it has never had a press office, says Everard. But the absence of such a formal route to information is no deterrent to the paparazzi, many of whom will camp out in the expectation of spotting a star worth photographing. "We obviously can't stop the paparazzi and they are always outside the door," says Everard. "We just have to live with that. Who knows how they know who's coming?"
Fancies of the famous
While the assurance of privacy may be a celebrity's number-one need when staying in a hotel, it is a popular belief that celebrities also make outrageous demands on their hosts.
The hoteliers Caterer spoke to appear to take such matters in their stride. At 51 Buckingham Gate, Liam Ryan shrugs off the question, saying: "Once they're in, they don't tend to make a lot of demands. Some might want us to take pictures down, and one wanted his own pictures to be hung instead. Others might ask for very specific foods, or we might alter the time the apartment is cleaned to suit them."
Film star Elizabeth Taylor's alleged request that her suite at the Dorchester be repainted lilac is a popular myth. A spokeswoman for the hotel says: "I was rung at home by a journalist to comment on this. I denied it strenuously, as it absolutely was not true.
"Nevertheless, the journalist chose to print the story, which has now become part of folklore. I cannot tell you how many press cuttings I have received from across the world, based on his article, stating this as absolute fact."
For Sally Beck at the Landmark, the solution is simple. She says: "If they want the room repainted, they pay for it - and then they pay for it to be painted back again after they've left."
We want your views
How do you keep guests' identities secret? How do you ensure that staff keep quiet when important guests are in town? And isn't it tempting to leak information for the good of your business? E-mail us with your views to chot@rbi.co.uk. Your e-mails may be used, in edited form, in a future edition of Caterer.
