Image credit: Bruch Buhrow
“Pumping Ivory”
Some syncopated musings from 45 years of professional pianistic prestidigitation.
In the beginning...
The Red Devil Supper Club was once a 'hot spot' on US 40 coming into Columbus, Ohio from the east. Leather booths, a full kitchen, and a piano behind the marble topped padded bar. When I got there for my first professional engagement at age 19, thanks to Dave Wheeler ($25a night for 5 hours, all the Jack Daniels I could drink), she'd seen better days-- sort of like 'Lola the Showgirl' in the last verse of 'Copacabana'. Faded feathers in her hair, indeed. But on Tuesday nights it was a sort of mecca for young jazz students, who brought their horns and voices and brushes trying to make an impression on the owner, who 'knew some people'. Our 'house' drummer lived right behind the bar, and we would adjourn at 11:00 to sample some imported vegetation and watch 'Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.' Best jukebox intown, bar none, I wore out the flip side of Errol Garners 'Misty'(Exactly Like You, if you were wondering).Monk, Miles, George Jones,Basie and Elvis all mingled together, ready to play at the drop of a quarter. It's still there, albeit as a 'sports bar', but I always drive by when I'm in Columbus. The Red Devil. Yeah, man.
“Cozy”
At the Top Steak House one fine evening, Cozy Cole strolled in with a lovely companion and sat at the piano bar where I played 5 nights a week. I remember playing a couple of tunes before I asked him what he'd like to hear. “Take the A Train please?”, and I jokingly asked him what key he preferred. I played the first chorus ala Ellington, in 3/4, then hit the famous intro lick. Cozy picked up a pair of spoons and started playing with me, at first on the top of the bar, then his glass, then his companion’s glass, then the barstool (now he was standing up and making music on whatever was nearby.) Anything was fair game, (booths, chairs, the floor) I was on the 10th chorus and the place was going nuts. He laughed and danced and played and played. When we took it out and everybody in the restaurant was standing up applauding he gave me a wink and a 'yeah baby'. I found out subsequently that he was actually very ill and passed away notlong after. It was a fine evening.
“Hoagy”
In 1978, at the Top Steak House, a beautiful, elderly lady sitting at the piano bar asked me to play 'Stardust'. I sensed that the tune meant something to her, so it was a very nice rendition. She told me that she'd been a 'house mother' at Kappa Sigma fraternity at Indiana University in the 20's when Hoagy was there, and that he would have enjoyed the way I played his music. Greatest musical compliment I ever received.
“L.B.”
Larry Butler was a two-time Grammy winner and produced albums that sold 200 million copies. He was an inveterate prankster and my goodfriend. When a solo piano record I released in 1998 did very well, Iran into L.B. and told him (rather smugly) that my record had sold a thousand copies. He said he had something for me. Fast forward a couple months, and I ran into him in a recording studio.
There, with great fanfare, he presented me with a (very nicely framed) squashed hub-cap (where the 'gold' record would have gone) with my album cover in the middle and a gold plaque that read
“The Naked Piano, Bobby van Deusen Certified TIN”.
I cherished that gift, lost it (and everything else I had) in Hurricane Ivan.
“Bud Black”
Born 50 years too late, Bud was the Emcee on the Delta Queen for many years. He did a gag where he actually sang Chattanooga Choo Choo backwards (Oo-ch oo-ch A-goon-a-tatch, if you're wondering). He was a brilliant improviser and showman in the great tradition of vaudeville. I once saw him stroll down a passageway eating a banana,when an unfortunate passenger happened along the opposite direction.Not missing a stride, he held out the banana peel to the passenger and said 'Hold this for me, would ya?” and continued on his merryway. Still makes me laugh.
“The Corn Palace”
I signed with a concert promoter in Minneapolis in 2015 and have been playing shows all over the country. The very FIRST show with Allied Concert Services was in Mitchell, South Dakota at a venue called the 'Corn Palace'. I pulled up and thought “What in the Sam HELL have I gotten myself into?” (I'm thinking 'Bubba's Country Bunker' from the Blues Brothers, got the picture?) It's an enormous building,flanked by minarets and decorated with murals the size of baseball diamonds made entirely from corn husks. The Steinway 'D' on the stage put me at ease a little, and when the curtain came up and I got a look at the audience I thought “I KNOW you....” and we gave them a terrific show.
“Are ya QUITTIN?”
I was packing up from a brunch at Seville Quarter in Pensacola and headed for the door with my keyboard under my arm and passed a patron who inquired “Areya QUITTIN?” I replied “No, the high temperature light came on and I'm taking it outside to cool down”. “Smart” he said, thoughtfully.
“Why do you still practice so much?”
I think I'm starting to see some progress.
“TheTape Ball”
I was gifted a wadded up ball of gaffers tape by the GM of the Saenger Theater, and found out later that it's a great compliment to get the tape ball after a run. I still keep it on my keyboard stack when I play a show.
“Ellen”
I was performing at a surprise birthday party for a local philanthropist and was asked to accompany a singer I didn't know for a few tunes. She wanted a Melissa Manchester song called 'Come in From the Rain', but wasn't sure of the lyrics. I told her I'd feed them to her. She opened her mouth and just sang the socks off the tune, I asked her what her name was and would she like to make a CD.That started a wonderful professional and personal relationship,we've done 5 records together (all used to raise lots of money for various charities). Her name is Ellen and she's my bestie.
'You Never Know”
One of the pieces of advice I give to young performers is to get some business cards and carry them all the time. You never know. Iwas performing at a resort in Orange Beach when a dapper fellow and his wife approached me and asked for a card. “I might have something for you”, he said. I didn't think much of it, until I gota call from the Delta Queen Steamboat Company informing me that I was their newest pianist. That started 5 year run as a Riverboat Piano Player, plying 3 thousand miles of rivers in the USA on a real steamboat (and a stint in Hawaii with American Hawaii Cruises). You never know.
“Bob”
I dearly loved to flummox Bob Allen, one of the greatest pianists I ever knew. He was handsome in his black tux with the ruffled shirts and his dark glasses (Bob was blind since birth), and some of my hijinks included waiting until he was performing for an adoring audience, walking up and plunking a piece of sheet music down in front of him, say “Here's the tune you asked me for, man” and strolling out, all the while giggling at the horrified whispers of his fans (and his unexpurgated response). I once brought Peter Nero in to hear him, and when I walked up to introduce him Bob, ever familiar with my pranks, said “How about you take your Peter Nero and put him in your ear”. (That's not what he said...) Cornell Wiley, Bob's bassist, was falling off his stool laughing, and leaned forward and said “ Bob...it's REALLY Peter Nero.” We spent our nights off together boozing and heckling other piano players, one night in a snowstorm I got a flat and popped into a bar for a littleanti-freeze, when I came back out he'd gotten the car jacked up andthe tire off, and was sprawled in the trunk spewing invective about not being able to find the spare. He loved to drive (remember—he was BLIND) and many a night I would navigate as he steered my Chevy Vega up E. Broad St. I sometime wonder how we survived. A brilliant man, and an inspiration to an entire generation of young pianists in Columbus, and my pal. Rest easy Bob, your memory is a blessing.
Coda
When I was very young I had an opportunity to hear Liberace perform.I was introduced to him as a pianist (or course he looked 8 feet tall and was dressed like a peacock) but he was so kind to me, and gave methe singularly greatest piece of advice I've ever gotten. “Love your audience, and they will love you back”. That's never failed me, in a 45 year career. Cheers!
