Most Famous Person

• Facebook question: Who is the most famous person you have talked to?
• Answer: Jose Iturbi. And thereby hangs a tale.

Seventy-plus years ago, my mother, my grandmother, and I went to California to visit my uncle and his family. My uncle had gotten us tickets to see and hear Jose Iturbi at the Hollywood Bowl. We watched a lovely concert, part of which saved my bacon a number of years later, but I digress.

After the concert, my mother asked an usher if it would be possible to meet Jose Iturbi. He first said “no”, but when he realized she was asking for an eleven-year-old child, he said the artist made exceptions for children.

We went back stage and waited. It was a couple of hours later when he came out to meet us. He asked if I played. I had been taking piano lessons for two years at that point. But in comparison to him, I shook my head, no. My mother interrupted and told him that I was taking lessons.

His hands were square and strong, not necessarily very large. But he took my hand in both of his and said “the only difference between your hand and mine is practice, practice, practice.” I was thrilled, humbled, inspired.

A few years later, he and his sister, Amparo, were on a concert tour that included Salina, Kansas. I lived twenty miles away. My high school band instructor organized a few students to attend that concert. We all went backstage to meet the artists. Amparo was not greeting the group. But Jose remembered me from our Los Angeles trip, grabbed my hand, and took me into his sister’s dressing room to meet her.

But that’s not how he saved my bacon. My freshman year in college, I was taking a piano course. At semester time, we each performed a number in a winter concert. I was playing a Beethoven sonata. The first sixteen bars went well, and then I hit a blank wall. I dropped my hands to my lap, turned to the audience and shrugged and started over.

It happened the second time. I repeated the actions and said “we will begin again.” My mind was working furiously to get past that sixteenth bar. I’m not sure what happened between bars sixteen and twenty-four, but I got to twenty-four and was essentially home free.

My mother, sitting beside my piano instructor, was certain that I had failed. My instructor indicated that had I walked off the stage, I would have failed. As it was, I earned a “B” for the semester.

How did I know to do what I did? In that concert, back in 1950, Jose Iturbi was playing a Debussy etude. He wasn’t happy with the way it was going, so he stopped, wiped his hands on his handkerchief, shrugged toward the audience, and said “we will begin again.”

As you might expect, I have always been a fan. I have watched every movie he was in. I love this excerpt from Three Daring Daughters.

Enjoy!