Playing at the upscale Cherry creek mall this holiday season brings me surprisingly into the realm of the Have-Nots as much as the Haves. While the usual suspects, the teenager valet-parking his brand new BMW sports car and the plasticized fur-wearing designer-toy-dog-carrying set are ever present, the homeless wander the brightly lit walkways all day just to get out of the cold. Some families with matching gang tats come dressed in their best Blood reds. The refugees, who live in the projects only blocks away from the million dollar Cherry creek zip code, take pictures and videos as they walk by the harp speaking all variety of languages. One man from Mali stands two feet from me for an hour and a half singing along in French. He says it made him think of the Malian instrument the kora. He tells me he is the night cleaner but stays in the mall all day too because it's so warm and nice. I doubted he had anywhere else to go.
Then there are the eccentrics. You just have to be a harpist in the glitziest mall in Colorado at the holidays to see how many people are out seeking a captive audience to stave off their crippling loneliness. One man, wearing a giant sheepskin coat and hat, requested "Sleigh Ride" and informed me that most people don't know it was written by Mozart who was a prolific composer until his untimely death at the young age of 35. I said I didn't know that. Sheepskin man stood a foot from the harp during the whole song then told me he was mostly deaf and had lost his hearing in a bombing but he still loved music, Bach and Beethoven mostly. He said "I guess this is what you've done your whole life. Gone to school, and played music. Most of my life I was in the military and stationed in the Bering Strait. Never married. But that's ok. I'll head home now and do my 26 mile ride on my bike trainer and listen to my books on tape." I asked him who he was shopping for today and he said himself. I had the impression I could easily be the only person he spoke to all week, or month.
The mall allows Steinway to show off their newest grand piano, the Spirio, in the plaza. For $110,000 you never haveto learn to play, can put it in your great room, attach it to an iPad and it will play upwards of 1,700 songs, no human or skill needed. Next to it is the 2017 Maserati levante SUV. In my uneducated view, it looks like any other SUV on the road, with some fancy air vents along the front sides. Apparently you could take it home with all the extras for $89,000. It's hard to compete with the Steinway and the Maserati when, just like a passerby said, "I've never heard of that Lyon and Healy harp making company" as if anyone who isn't a harpist would be familiar with harp brands or care.
It's especially hard when a tweaker climbs over the velour stanchion rope cordoning off the Steinway and starts to noodle away. I decided to see if I could outplay him, but after two and a half hours he had only taken a ten minute break. None of the passing security guards seemed inclined to intervene to halt the cacophony. After the third person interrupted me to ask where the Godiva store was, and a couple of young hoods, apparently not noting I was engaged in performing, asked me if I could take their picture, tats front and center, in front of the mazerati, I decided to take a break.
I asked the fellow at the Steinway how his piano playing was coming. His nails were long and caked in dirt, his clothes and Ball cap filthy. He looked at me with dull eyes and said "do you think I'm getting any better?" I told him it was hard to listen closely while I was playing. I didn't like to ruin his bliss by suggesting it would take more than two hours to perfect the skill. I asked him if he was planning to spend his whole Sunday in the mall. He mumbled something about waiting for someone. I went to get a couple of chocolate strawberries at the Godiva store which came to $22 dollars, worth a good portion of the time spent suffering the Steinway. Walking out I spotted a $90 dollar box of small chocolates and wondered if they were the same as the ones I'd seen at Costco for $20. Surely not. Godiva must provide an upscale version for Cherry Creek shoppers. I started to feel grateful that I've done all my holiday shopping at Goodwill where their mission statement is "Goodwill works to enhance the dignity and quality of life of individuals and families by strengthening communities, eliminating barriers to opportunity, and helping people in need reach their full potential through learning and the power of work." I wondered if Cherry Creek's mission statement is "Helping people buy more stuff at upscale rates to stash with the stuff they already don't use" or maybe "Creating an atmosphere of opulence and leisure while raking you over the coals". Of course, I am doing my part for ambience, so I guess I'm part of the grand charade.
When I came in to set up the next day, I almost tripped over a curious twenty-something who waited just long enough for me to get my seat set up to sit himself down on it. I think he had a momentary time lapse and thought it was band practice. He said he played the sax and wondered how to set the pedals so he could play his sax songs on the harp. I offered him some easy Christmas music to read, but he said he doesn't read music. I asked him if he could harp-sit while I used the bathroom and he looked overly pleased. When I returned he had improvised quite a nice tune and it was hard to coerce him off my seat. When he finally got up, he said "that's a pretty cool instrument, but I still don't think I would buy one. It looks way too hard to move" as if buying the instrument was the only thing keeping him from mastery. He didn't stop to listen to just how hard it is to actually play it. Apparently the thought of rolling it around on a cart was just too daunting.
A passing comment "Well! I've never seen one of those before!" reminded me of a fundraiser I played for last week. The only black woman in the room had loudly exclaimed the same thing. She was a young single mother of two small children and was sharing her life changing experience with the donors of having been put through college by this organization. She told the small group that she had to throw her beds out after they were infested with bed bugs living in projects in Jackson, Tennessee. The organization helped her move to Denver and move her children into the first apartment of their very own. When she got choked up sharing with the group how her daughter ran into her new room and carefully laid out her shoes in her first very closet, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Still, while she works two jobs, she says she rarely sees her children. While the gratitude of a six year old with a place to put her shoes is heart warming, The staggering inequity in this country is especially stark when illustrated by grimy nails on a 110k self-playing piano. Even pounding away on a Steinway in a crowd, he was invisible.
A man and his wife approached me after sitting and listening for an hour. They thanked me for the music and he shared an often repeated story. He said "I always wanted to play an instrument and now that I'm retired, I have the time. I'm not very good, but I try". Then he followed up with a litany of questions about harp mechanics until his wife convinced him to leave. I told him to forgive himself for mistakes and share his gift while he can. It is inspiring to see people starting anew with gusto, never having forgotten their dreams through life's turmoil.
A woman with naturally graying hair, a rarity around here, who appeared to have got lost on the way to a Boulder peace rally, spontaneously joined me in singing O Holy Night. She had a lovely voice, which reminded me I should never take it upon myself to sing while playing the harp. At least two dozen babies strollered by and watched quietly for two minutes, a mini vacation for their parents. Another dozen toddlers joined me on my lap and played Twinkle Twinkle, Its a Small World, Rudolf, Frosty, Doe a Deer, and Are You Sleeping. Not one cried, And I'll bet that's a better record than Santa had in the plaza down the way. A mother stood holding her one year old in front of the harp while pointing wildly at the piano and saying "look! There's a piano. You've seen a piano before! See look, over there. A piano!". The little girl was the only one who seemed to notice the giant concert harp two feet from their noses. When another kid dallied and, while watching the strings, asked "mom, what's that?" She said "a cello. Let's move it." A teenage boy asked me to teach him a song and we played Are you Sleeping as a duet.
Several security guards stationed themselves across from the harp while answering the "where's the bathroom" question over and over. The women in the shaving shop came out to tell me they had turned their music off to listen, and the real estate agent at the island booth said she normally wants to slit her wrists after a day listening to the piped in music on repeat, but today she was feeling revived.
A man and his wife stopped to offer the Status line of questioning: "how much does that cost?" "Don't they have bigger ones? I'm sure I've seen bigger ones?" "How much does it weigh?" "What type of car do you drive?" "Where do you live?" "Where are you from?" "Where did you study?" "Do you play with an orchestra?" "What does your husband do?" And my favorite question, "Do you do this, um, professionally, like, full time?" I want to ask if they are professional idiots if they can't assess the music for its merit without associating it with a pedigree. The wife asks as they are walking away "Do you play for house parties? How much?" I think of how we've banned Grayson from asking "why?" repeatedly and have started to require more innovative lines of questioning. These two obviously haven't graduated from How Much. I give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they are the types who get nervous when there's a lull in conversation. For as many people who ask uncomfortable questions, there are twice as many who rejoice in the magic of the season and stand and listen and ask curious questions about the harp and thank me profusely for sharing.
A three year old twirls wearing her best Christmas dress through the entire Nutcracker suite. After she has her mini harp lesson, she tells her mom "the red strings are the same color as my dress!" It's the little delights she celebrates.
As I pack up and walk out I notice the same woman sitting in the common area seats in the same chair as yesterday. For some, this is home. And at least for today, they could celebrate the season with the Maserati drivers and enjoy the holiday musical classics.