13 and Counting

Parents who bankroll these events tend to think of them as separate from the religious component of the day, and don't think one impinges on the other. And of course, pricey coming-of-age rituals are not an exclusively Jewish phenomenon. They cut across any number of cultures, and in some cases their scale provokes plenty of intramural hand-wringing. Consider quinceanera , the Latino celebration of a 15-year-old girl's transition into womanhood, a day that is marked by a special Catholic Mass and, in the United States, parties that keep getting glitzier.

"With quinceanera and bar mitzvahs, you see the exact same tug of war between religious authorities and party planners," says Elizabeth Pleck, a professor of history at University of Illinois and author of "Celebrating the Family."

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In New York, it's safe to say that the party planners currently have the upper hand.

James got his start in the '80s, working as a "motivator" for a party-planning company, a job which required him to dragoon guests onto dance floors. (Odd as that gig might sound, there are sometimes five or six "motivators" at bar mitzvahs these days.) Other times, James would don a costume and perform.

"I'd dress up like a steam train from the [Andrew Lloyd Webber] musical 'Starlight Express,' " says James. "I played the Phantom from the 'Phantom of the Opera' a few times."

James was constantly pitching his bosses elaborate ideas for the next event, and after a while he thought he deserved to get paid for his innovations. They offered him a raise of $100 per party. He quit and started Parties by Pat James in 1991. The company plans about 80 bar mitzvahs a year.

Most start with a field trip around the city, or suburbia, to find the right venue. A few weeks ago, James was taxiing around midtown Manhattan on one of those venue-hunting expeditions with a woman named Aimee Stoopler. Stoopler, who speaks with a slight Long Island accent and looks to be in her late twenties, is planning her second bat mitzvah.

"It's not till 2008," Stoopler says, "but you've got to make a reservation early, or you could get shut out."

Her first daughter, Amanda, was bat mitzvahed a few weeks ago, and during the cab ride she and James leafed through a scrapbook with photos of the event. The room, you can see, was festooned with poster-size, glamorous photos of Amanda, who looks like a model. You can't tell from the photos, but Stoopler says a performer from Cirque du Soleil was there all night, hanging and twisting from a silk rope attached to the ceiling.

"She was a big hit," says Stoopler, smiling. "My husband liked that."

One of the stops is at Cipriani, a cavernous former bank that is one of the city's poshest rentable party spots. A saleswoman is going over the particulars. (Dinner, for example, is $400 per adult.) Stoopler doesn't blink at the price, but she'd like to know if they could set up a huge, floor-to-ceiling drape so that when guests first arrive and grab a cocktail, they won't be able to see the tables.