A Haunting Melody
travel
memoir
by
Greg Larson
I’m what you would call a closet piano
player, someone who loves to pound the keyboard, alone in the room. I remember playing the piano in the basement
as a child for hours at a time . . . Bach, Chopin, Mozart and other music
filled the air. But I’ve always wanted
to play a grand piano in a public space, somewhere like a hotel lobby. On a previous vacation at the Hotel Colorado
in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, I found the perfect spot . . . a grand piano in
a grand lobby. Gretta and I scheduled a
stay there for some R&R with friends, so I began to practice my favorite
piano pieces and attempted to polish my technique for the upcoming opportunity.
Hotel Colorado |
Although the lobby of the Hotel
Colorado seemed big and fancy, it had a casual western feel, and the townspeople
considered it part of their public space. When we were there, families came to eat at the lobby restaurant or stop at the coffee
shop. They visited the hotel during the
Christmas season to enjoy the outdoor lights, indoor Christmas trees and decorations. On the weekends, teenagers came to the hotel
and wandered through the lobby. Usually the girls gathered at the piano and played chopsticks,
or impromptu arpeggios and chords. Occasionally,
someone played a bona fide piece of piano music.
Greg in the lobby of Hotel Colorado |
- Misty by Errol Garner
- Waltz in A Flat Major by Frederic Chopin
- Moonlight Sonata (first movement) by Ludwig van Beethoven
On the Sunday morning of our stay, I
invited our friends to come to the lobby to listen to me play the piano. There were people sprinkled about the large
space, some drinking coffee and visiting with friends, others reading or
working crossword puzzles.
We opened the top of the grand piano
and I sat down at the bench and played a few chords and scales. For a piano that received much abuse in a
public space, the key action was pretty good.
I played Misty for our friends
and became comfortable with the keyboard.
Fortunately, no crowd formed, which was a good thing for a
self-conscious person like me.
The Waltz in A Flat Major flowed smoothly, but with a few missed notes.
It wasn’t too bad, considering all the sharps and flats in the piece. The hotel staff smiled, glad that someone was
playing real piano music.
Finally, I began the Moonlight Sonata with some trepidation,
knowing that it was long and fraught with difficulty. The music sounds deceivingly simple, but to
play it well, one has to master the bifurcated activity of two hands creating a
seamless stream of sound.
Greg playing a haunting melody |
I missed a few notes but continued to
the tough parts. That’s when I noticed
someone approaching the piano – very slowly.
In my peripheral vision I saw a disheveled man crossing the lobby, step
by step, headed straight for the piano. As
he came closer, I noticed his unshaven face, rumpled hair, and bloodshot
eyes. His silly grin revealed some
missing teeth. His pant cuffs were high
above the floor and he wore a cheap, polyester jacket. He seemed mesmerized as if the melody had
control of him. Was he drunk? Where did he come from? I tried to concentrate on the music before
me.
He stood against the curved side of the
piano. I began to miss some notes. Then he bent over and stuck his head
underneath the angled piano top and looked straight down, hypnotized by the
hammers striking the wires. While he remained with his upper body beneath the
piano top, he cocked his head sideways and looked straight at me, silly grin
and all – no more than two feet from my face.
“Beautiful music,” he said in a
matter-of-fact demeanor.
My concentration became unglued at that
point, so I stopped playing.
“Thanks,” I replied, “I think I’ll start
this last page again.” I wanted to
regain my composure and finish the piece in a calm fashion. Who was this guy? My subconscious thought was that he was a
poor man, looking for some warmth in the hotel, possibly still drunk from
Saturday night, or walking off a hangover.
The music was sensory stimulation for his brain – probably good for it.
I started to play again, and I noticed
that he walked around the end of the piano and briefly spoke to Gretta. She told me later that he said, “The music is
beautiful. Is it Gershwin?”
She told him, “No, it’s Beethoven.”
“Beautiful,” he said, and then he walked
away. We never saw him again.
I finished playing the sonata and then played
some less significant pieces that weren’t as polished. When I finished, I walked over to Gretta and
our friends and sat down.
“Who was that guy?” was my first
question. “What an odd encounter.” We
all agreed that the man had an unusual appearance and was attracted to the
music like a magnet. “Well, he must have
enjoyed it,” I added. “I guess that’s a good thing. I know that I have one fan out there
somewhere.”
When I returned home, I wanted to learn
more about the hotel, so I ordered a book titled Hotel Colorado - Fountains of Enchantment. When the package arrived,
Gretta opened it. She perused the book
while I read the newspaper in the next room.
“There’s a lot of good information in
here,” she raised her voice so I could hear her from the other room. “There’s a
chapter on ghosts, and some have been seen in the lobby.”
“Yeah,” I said. “All those old hotels have stories like
that.”
Then I looked away from the paper and took a deep breath.
“Ohhh!” I
remembered the man at the piano. I saw
his silly grin and the missing teeth and the stubble. I felt chills on the back of my
neck. Could it be? Was he?
I’ll always wonder.
Listen to the Moolight Sonata - just click the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0
Listen to the Moolight Sonata - just click the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0
Holiday lights at Hotel Colorado |
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