Biography
{Part 2: Los Angeles - Las Vegas}
I enjoyed Piatigorsky's class tremendously. The performance standard of the highly talented students (including Nathaniel Rosen and Stephen Kates) who attended the class surpassed anything I had ever experienced. It was an exclusive club albeit with an open atmosphere. Yet we always had to wear a jacket and tie. One of the important concepts Piatigorsky emphasized was the style of the compositions we were studying--I carry this with me to this day. Being in his class was like being in spring training before the start of the professional season. It was an incomparable experience. Above all he really cared for each one of us.
Piatigorsky's great personality, charm, and charisma were legendary. Sometimes, distinguished guests such as the Princess of Greece and Jacqueline du Pré paid a visit to see the grand master in the class. Those delightful moments will always remain memorable.
Unfortunately, my sojourn was short lived. In the spring of 1967, he announced he was leaving USC. (Though he went back one year later) By then I knew I wanted to make the US my home and applied for a permanent visa, which I was granted two years later. I started to audition. I was accepted by both the Vancouver and the New Orleans symphonies. Mr. Piatigorsky said it would be better for me to establish residency in the States first. So I was ready to accept the position with the New Orleans Symphony and start my new career with them in the fall of that year. However, I still needed to work for the summer.
Sometimes, a small incident changes the course of one's life. I was talking with Stephen Kates about needing to work when he told me that they were looking for a cellist in Las Vegas. "Why don't you give them a call?" Stephen gave me Joseph Gershenson's phone number at Universal Studios so I could find out more information. (At that time I didn't know who Gershenson was. Decades later, I re-recorded many of the film scores for which he was the music director or music supervisor.) I spoke to Gershenson on the phone and he said I should call Antonio Morelli at the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas.
I had never worked in show business or commercial music. It was absolutely foreign to me. After a brief audition for Antonio Morelli, music director at the Sands, I started to play the Dean Martin show -- imagine my culture shock.
It was an offer I could not refuse. Not only was the weekly scale in Las Vegas more than double that of the New Orleans Symphony, the number of weeks I would be playing was almost twice as much, 52 as opposed to 27. I ended up not signing the contract with the New Orleans Symphony, sending it back with a letter of apology. I would be living in Las Vegas for the next 13 years.
Besides the financial security, it was a pleasure to discover the many fine musicians who were working there. Las Vegas at that time was a Mecca for all freelance musicians. Ample job opportunities drew them, probably like that of Hollywood decades earlier. They flocked into town from all over the country. I never expected to find so many super talented musicians working in the Las Vegas showrooms.
One of those extraordinary musicians was Ennio Bolognini (1893-1979). This amazing cellist could make any cello sound like a Stradivarius. I marveled at his fantastic playing -- his hands were the largest ones I had ever seen. I used to sit next to him (principal cello) when I played for the Las Vegas Symphony, under the baton of Leo Damiani the founder. Later, when Ennio conducted his Las Vegas Philharmonic I was the principal cellist. I spent many afternoons with him playing music, talking about music and his life, as well as helping him notate his compositions because he was losing his sight. It was a unique opportunity for me to learn about this wonderful musician.
There were other exceptional musicians like Mischa Violin and his wife Jeanette, Kalman Banyak, William Gromko, and Robert Menga who were all there. I was exposed to the many jazz greats as well. Saturday nights after work, at the Musicians Union, they all gathered for "kick bands", taking turns and playing throughout the night. I discovered the beauty of brass instruments for the first time. I cried listening to Tommy Turk's trombone, and was startled by the phenomenal technique of Carl Fontana. Also I remember vividly the excitement of playing for the Tony Bennett show when we, the strings, joined the Count Basie band as the back-up orchestra for him.
At the end of 1967, Kenneth Hanlon, the Chair of the Music Department at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV) invited me to join the faculty. In addition to teaching, I played at all the University concerts, from faculty recitals to Ballet concerts. And I enjoyed working with Virko Baley who came to UNLV in 1970 as professor of piano. Energetic and multi-talented, he was vital in cultivating a new era in town. He created the Annual Contemporary Music Festival and in 1980 he resurrected the Las Vegas Symphony which had been defunct since 1973.
Guillermo Romero, myself, Thomas Gray, and Kalman Banyak
Ravel Centennial Concert, Las Vegas, 1975
It was May, 1972 and I was playing a concert of all new works by the Las Vegas composers Alex Law, Bill Reddie, and Don Hannah. After the concert a man with a smiling face and a pipe in hand came up to me and introduced himself. That was how I met Leo Arnaud. He was exactly my father's age, the cello was one of his instruments, and I still spoke French. It seemed we instantly bonded in a special relationship that lasted until his passing in 1991.
Leo was a staff arranger at MGM for nearly three decades. A native of Lyon, France he was one of the first French jazz celebrities before coming to the States. Maurice Ravel, who had had a keen interest in jazz, frequented the "Le Boeuf sur le Toit" restaurant/nightclub where Leo played trombone nightly. He befriended the young Leo and offered composition lessons over a period of a few years. According to Leo, Ravel was intrigued by Leo's ability to play up to G above top C and wanted to learn how to improvise.
When I met Leo he was about to retire from Hollywood and go back to his childhood instrument, the cello. In fact we sat next to each other playing many shows in Vegas. He was a total musician, a musician's musician. His knowledge about all instruments was astonishing. He was extraordinarily generous to young musicians sharing his know-how, giving technical advice freely, or entertaining with his gourmet cooking. He was a chef indeed. (In French, conductor is chef d'orchestre.) His "Saumon Poché en Gelée" was out of sight and tasted fabulous.
Things began to change in the mid 70's when Howard Hughes arrived and bought many of the strip hotels, turning them into corporate businesses. In addition, the popularity of many of the stars who used to use large orchestras was slipping. The new stars who started to come to town were self-contained and did not hire many local musicians. The atmosphere was not the same; the small town charm was disappearing. Local 369, the strongest musicians' union, gradually lost it's stance against the Hotel and Resort Association of Nevada, allowing the use of pre-recorded music that little by little cut down the numbers of musicians from the production shows.
These changes, together with my increasing desire to pursue conducting encouraged me to move. This new focus meant I would need to move back to LA-Hollywood, the only place left for freelancers. Around that time too, the future of my festival in Laguna Beach that had begun in 1977, looked promising. Laguna Beach is only 50 miles south of Los Angeles. Also, I had been playing for the Japanese Philharmonic of Los Angeles for many years.
In early 1980 I got my first taste of Hollywood. It was a sideline job to play lip-synch for the movie "The Competition" (1980). Leo was the film's music adviser and Lalo Schifrin was the composer. Thanks to Leo, I sat at the first stand of the orchestra so I am actually seen in the picture. Yes, you can recognize me in the movie, but the sound (including, of course, the solo parts played by the actors) was pre-recorded.
Because of all these activities, I was confident that I could make the move to Los Angeles successfully.
I moved to Los Angeles permanently in September 1980.