Famous people can make you lie if you catch their vibe...
Well maybe not lie but BS just a little.
Being in school at Kilgore I have been a little curious about the famous classical pianist Van Cliburn. He is from the Kilgore/Shrevport area, born one place, spent time in another and the fine arts auditorium at the school is named after him. I lurk around in there sometimes on Tuesday/Thursdays, at lunch break on this long day at school trying to catch some of his vibe.
I know that he was trained by his mom, a great piano player herself and sometime in the 70s his parents got old, died, and he took some time out of the spotlight to care for them and deal with their passing. He returned in the 80s, I think giving a concert for Reagan and Gorbachev. I wondered if he lived in Kilgore. He does not, there was recently a short news item of something, a fire maybe that occurred on the street of famous Van Cliburn, I think in Ft. Worth.
Somehow it seems better if he lived in Kilgore or Shrevport, I can see him praticing his scales for his mom in the hot summer time, dressed in white, classical music drifting out the windows to the magnolias and oaks with their moss, him dressed in white while other kids got dirty and sweated. Ft. Worth don't seem right.
I did find evidence of him in the fine arts building as I slunk around. There were pictures posted on an office door, bound to be students, but there was one, must have been the piano teacher and a very luminous man. Has to be Van Cliburn, I have never seen a picture, but I could see that he has never sweated, never been too dirty, forever clean and bright. He lookes happy. I wondered if just maybe, before he made that 80s comeback, he was like me, lurking around, trying to find some essence of inspiration in a mostly empty quiet building with his guts all nervous. When my guts got too nervous I found that the crapper seemed to be down stairs directly under the stage. Bound to have been constructed there at Cliburns request, a hidden position of power, vibe and mojo where a man could get ready for whatever he needs to do.
Across the hall from the Physical Therapy lab where I spend a good bit of time there is a piano class. Looks like maybe fundamentals of music is taught there also. In another life I sat in those classes in another place, another time when there were ash trays at the ends of the halls where you could smoke right before class or as you looked out those tall windows that are always at the end of school building halls at the spring semester rains and I see those students, like me then with their high school band letter jackets, selves lined with all region band patches, one of them always has on a Hendrix T- Shirt, all learning about the circle of 5ths and that a triad is still a three note chord. Like Van Cliburn they are from small East Texas towns, names like Pittsburg, Queen City, Wascum. Sometimes I hear their scale attempts and I think I may have to go over there and play it my damn self.
One day this week we all arrived and I noticed they were not in class, the room was dark. A few of the therapy students are piano players and some have taken music courses at Kilgore. I suddenly thought of the lie.
I said, " Once every semester the piano classes have brunch at Van Cliburn's house. I have heard he is real nice."
They all bought it.
Being in school at Kilgore I have been a little curious about the famous classical pianist Van Cliburn. He is from the Kilgore/Shrevport area, born one place, spent time in another and the fine arts auditorium at the school is named after him. I lurk around in there sometimes on Tuesday/Thursdays, at lunch break on this long day at school trying to catch some of his vibe.
I know that he was trained by his mom, a great piano player herself and sometime in the 70s his parents got old, died, and he took some time out of the spotlight to care for them and deal with their passing. He returned in the 80s, I think giving a concert for Reagan and Gorbachev. I wondered if he lived in Kilgore. He does not, there was recently a short news item of something, a fire maybe that occurred on the street of famous Van Cliburn, I think in Ft. Worth.
Somehow it seems better if he lived in Kilgore or Shrevport, I can see him praticing his scales for his mom in the hot summer time, dressed in white, classical music drifting out the windows to the magnolias and oaks with their moss, him dressed in white while other kids got dirty and sweated. Ft. Worth don't seem right.
I did find evidence of him in the fine arts building as I slunk around. There were pictures posted on an office door, bound to be students, but there was one, must have been the piano teacher and a very luminous man. Has to be Van Cliburn, I have never seen a picture, but I could see that he has never sweated, never been too dirty, forever clean and bright. He lookes happy. I wondered if just maybe, before he made that 80s comeback, he was like me, lurking around, trying to find some essence of inspiration in a mostly empty quiet building with his guts all nervous. When my guts got too nervous I found that the crapper seemed to be down stairs directly under the stage. Bound to have been constructed there at Cliburns request, a hidden position of power, vibe and mojo where a man could get ready for whatever he needs to do.
Across the hall from the Physical Therapy lab where I spend a good bit of time there is a piano class. Looks like maybe fundamentals of music is taught there also. In another life I sat in those classes in another place, another time when there were ash trays at the ends of the halls where you could smoke right before class or as you looked out those tall windows that are always at the end of school building halls at the spring semester rains and I see those students, like me then with their high school band letter jackets, selves lined with all region band patches, one of them always has on a Hendrix T- Shirt, all learning about the circle of 5ths and that a triad is still a three note chord. Like Van Cliburn they are from small East Texas towns, names like Pittsburg, Queen City, Wascum. Sometimes I hear their scale attempts and I think I may have to go over there and play it my damn self.
One day this week we all arrived and I noticed they were not in class, the room was dark. A few of the therapy students are piano players and some have taken music courses at Kilgore. I suddenly thought of the lie.
I said, " Once every semester the piano classes have brunch at Van Cliburn's house. I have heard he is real nice."
They all bought it.
posted by Carl at 9:20 PM
2 Comments:
I heard that Van doesn't like tamales.---Pop
I can see that, only a total cad would bring tamales to a brunch at Van's house. Might as well hunt with Cheny.
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