Paisley Park.
I am going to tell you all about how awesome Minnesota, the North Coast of Wisconsin, and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are in my next post. They are really, really awesome. But for now, I am going to tell you about Paisley Park since it is deserving of being all on its own.
. . . . .
I had seen somewhere that Prince was coming to perform at Madison Square Garden back in 2010 when I was a junior at Pratt. Well, how could I pass that up. I knew immediately who I wanted to go with and without even asking I bought my Mom and I two tickets, called her overly excited, and told her to not be busy on that day.
. . . . .
The lights dimmed - it was time. Prince strutted out in his heels, all 5’3” of him, guitar at the ready, and started dancing on and around his grand purple piano that sat center stage.
. . . . .
I was relaxing at work about to get started with my day when my roommate texted me saying Prince had died and what did I do? I immediately went into the bathroom at work, almost successfully fought back tears and called my Mom. The rest of the day was a blur, all I wanted to do was go home, put on my Prince vinyls and cry. Sometimes you just need a good cry. The ride back to my apartment was a bit surreal, it seemed like most of Brooklyn was standing still in disbelief. Meanwhile in Minneapolis, people were flocking by the thousands to pay respect to Prince. They left things like hand written letters addressed to the beautiful one, homemade gifts in all glitter, stuck purple teddy bears in his fence and tucked small poems in crevasses. These are all now archived and displayed at the end of the tour at Paisley Park. My roommates and I lived about four blocks from Spike Lee’s studio in Brooklyn and he was hosting a block party that night to honor that beautiful man in all his purple glory. With or without them, I decided I was going. I honestly wasn’t even sure if Molly and Erika were going to come since it was late and a weekday and the whole time I was getting ready I was secretly praying they would. I came out a few minutes later, dressed in as much purple as I could gather, to find them both smiling at me ready to go and also dressed in purple. A sea of people took over the Fort Greene neighborhood of Brooklyn. The corner bar where we watched football most Sundays was packed and the courtyard overflowing. People were almost wall to wall up the brownstone lined residential street and off to the side, standing in his doorway and conducting the crowd, was Spike Lee. We sang, we danced, and the night ended with Purple Rain of course. That recognizable beat began and you knew immediately what song it was. Everyone swayed back and forth in unison and sang along with Prince. I remember looking around trying not to cry in public and instantly feeling a weight off my shoulders when I realized everyone was crying. Literally, everyone. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Spike decided he needed an encore and no one complained. He played the classic one more time as the three of us slowly made our exit back to the apartment, the familiar “ooo, ooo, ooo, ooooo….” echoing in the background and following us home.
. . . . .
Ever since I started this trip there is one place I have wanted to go, Paisley Park. I had an 11am tour booked at I was up and ready to go at 7am, just to put my excitement in perspective. For those of you who haven’t guessed by now, Paisley Park was Prince’s home and studio. It was a place that he always said he wanted to make into a museum, even if it was when he was still living there, a place where everyone could go to experience music and joy under one roof. The photography policy is the strictest I’ve ever experienced so I don’t have any to show you, all I can do is tell you all about the wonder that is Paisley Park. The walls are all a soft lavender and about ten feet up, where the second floor would start they change to hand painted clouds. The first thing I saw when I walked in was a banner on the small second floor landing leading to the atrium with Prince’s eyes staring at me. This may sound a little hokey for the museum to do, but they didn’t actually do anything. To be honest, they barely did anything at all. History hallway lined with awards and a career photo timeline, rooms commemorating each album, the cloud wallpaper and prince emblems everywhere; Prince did all of that himself. I told you, he wanted it to be a museum one day. From the star, moon, and sun covered turquoise carpet, to the all wood and outrageously gorgeous Studio A, he never missed a detail. His office walls were a beautiful gold and not that obnoxiously bright and cheesy gold. They were subtle, darker, and classier. His curved, modern chairs were plush and velvet and of course, dark violet. All the chairs, couches, even stools in the studio were velvet and some shade of purple. I saw all of his guitars and even the purple piano from Purple Rain and smiled at the scuff marks from dancing on it in heels. In true Prince fashion, I would expect no less. The Purple Rain room was one of the only rooms the museum had altered. One of four studios, it had been studio C and before that it had been a dance rehearsal space and before that an indoor basketball court with a regulation hoop. Two things Prince loved were basketball and pancakes, both of which he enjoyed in the little kitchen off the atrium that looked like his own personal classic diner, leather booths and all. He also, fun fact, did a lot of vocal recording sitting down. In Studio A we got to hear a sample of what would have been his 40th studio album had he finished it. It was a jazz album, although it was more funk than jazz and even though he was exploring the bounds of auto tune a bit, you knew it was Prince. When he recorded vocals he liked to be completely alone which meant he had to do his own audio engineering which also meant, most of the time, he had to be sitting down. Talk about talent. Sometimes at the oddest hours, like 11pm, he would send word of a party at his house starting asap. Anyone and everyone was welcome, just pay the nightclub fee at the door and you were in. He did, after all, have his own nightclub in Paisley Park. Sometimes these parties would go until five in the morning, sometimes Prince wouldn’t even attend, sometimes he’d come out and play for three hours, and other times special guests would show up and play with him. Can you imagine? I can’t.
Inspired by some of the greatest - Santana, Stevie Wonder, Shaka Khan, Earth Wind & Fire, Sly and the Family Stone - Prince still managed to be one of a kind. He always said that nothing intimidated him, only inspired him. It showed. The Obama’s wrote a note to his family expressing their condolences and I think they said it best; “His sound embodied countless experiences - from sorrow to joy, from heartache to love, from loss to discovery - that make us who we are.”
Since the atrium was his favorite room that is where I am going to end this. Close your eyes and try to imagine. In the center of the big, bright and open space is a patch of white marble surrounded by the muted turquoise carpet, centralized like a marble area rug. In the middle of that was his logo in black marble, just in case you’ve forgotten where you were. Look up to the top of the two story room and there are four pyramid skylights that even on an overcast day let in more light than you’d ever need. Off to the right and on the second floor landing overlooking the atrium and myself down below was a large cage where his doves live and where they will stay. That was one of the reasons Prince loved the atrium so much, when the doves cooed he could hear them and their voices would echo a beautiful song. I stood there hoping they would coo and wondering what that must have been like, how peaceful that must be. Up above on the wall in front of me was a section sticking out like a bay window, once again painted with clouds. A plastic container / shelf jutted out at the base of that and inside was what looked like a small miniature paisley park and a purple prince emblem. That, my friends, was Prince. His family decided to leave his urn for all to see in his favorite place so he could watch over everyone while they enjoyed the music. Wow. I smiled, silently thanked him, and turned around to see what he was looking at. Directly across from him painted in the clouds were white doves flying up to the skylights.
. . . . .
“There is a park that is known 4 the face it attracts
colorful people whose hair on 1 side, is swept back
the smile on their faces, it speaks of profound inner peace
ask where they’re going, they’ll tell u nowhere
they’ve taken a lifetime lease
on Paisley Park”
. . . . .
- G.
The Photo:
The only photo I was allowed to take.
Paisley Park.
Minneapolis, Minnesota.
9/25/17.
