My audience with the Baby Jesus

This morning I bounced up bright and early and went to the Mass at Dawn. That is something I have never done. I always saw it in the missal but I never knew who went to it.

Today I found out it was the regular 9 a.m. Mass I always go to, the Mass in Latin. It is like being back in the Middle Ages, is one reason I love that Mass. You get to chant reading off staves with square notes, the whole bit. Today they rang bells all through the Gloria. They did that on Easter, too. It is thrilling to hear.

But being relatively new to the Latin Mass I sometimes find myself in situations. That is what happened to me today.

After Mass everyone lined up the church's center aisle. I didn't know why. It turned out we were lining up to kiss the Baby Jesus. Father Secondo was holding this doll-like figure and everyone was kissing it.

Now here is what made me uneasy. I would have thought you would kiss the Baby Jesus on the cheek but when I peered over the shoulder of the person in front of me, trying to see what to do, it looked as if everyone was kissing His foot. Or His lower leg. Periodically Father Secondo would take a handkerchief and that was where he would wipe off the Baby Jesus.

That seemed odd, to kiss the Baby Jesus' right calf. But when in Rome! So I did that. Then I went back to my pew and knelt down. No one is ever in a hurry to get out of the Latin Mass. It is perfectly normal to hang around until it is time for the next Mass to start and sometimes that is what I do.

Then we had to find out who won the raffle of the nativity scene. We did that.

Now here comes my situation. All of a sudden this old woman appears. She looks to be about 95 and she is asking me if we had kissed the Baby Jesus.

"Yes," I beamed. "We did."

She said: "Oh, then I'm too late! Is it too late for me to kiss the Baby Jesus?"

How about this? I said, "No, I don't think so. I am sure He is still here somewhere." I had not heard it announced that the Baby Jesus had left the building. I wanted to tell her that but she did not look as if she was up for a joke.

Up in front Father Secondo had finished the raffle drawing and he was telling us all "Buon Natale" and then he turned to go. He is from Milan so when he is not speaking Latin he alternates between English and Italian. After a while you don't even think about it.

"It is too late!" the old woman said.

"No, it's not," I said. And like an idiot I had to sprint up to Father Secondo and I called out: "Padre!" His reaction time is shorter if you address him in Italian. I have learned that. Anyway, he turned and I explained the goofy situation. The woman is hanging back shyly and I had to go get her and put my arm around her and bring her up to the front so she could kiss the Baby Jesus.

I should have waited around to see if she kissed Him on the foot too.

Speaking of Italians I was thinking about what I was doing a year ago, when I was in California with Leonard Pennario. It is hard to believe a year has passed since last Christmas. Last Christmas was so different from this one.

On Christmas Eve last year, Pennario took me out to this Italian restaurant called Sammy's. He liked that place and what I liked was he had discovered it with me. We wound up going there a lot.

Sammy's was packed and everyone was loud and breaking things. Noise used to drive Pennario crazy. But the nice thing about him was that if he got into a bad mood you could almost always josh him out of it in an instant just by smiling at him or joking with him or whatever. I am sure that would not be the case with other pianists. Take the 19th century pianist Anton Rubinstein.



I bet if Anton Rubinstein got into a bad mood you would be stuck.

Anyway, at Sammy's a year ago, the sound system started playing that pop "Feliz Navidad" which Pennario hated. He got this look.

And I leaned across the table and said: "Leonard. I requested this song for you special."

And the old man burst out laughing. That was how easy it was to cheer him up. It gave me a look at what he was like his whole life. That is how he was able to be this great concert pianist without losing his mind.

It is just another thing that made him great.

My buddy in Bordeaux

The Internet is really making the world smaller every day. I mean, look at that time in the Ellicott Square Building when that nice gentleman walked up to me and knew that I had had my braces adjusted that morning. (I prefer to say "adjusted," not "tightened." It feels better.) He had read it on my blog. That was a funny feeling!

Today my cell phone rang and it was a concert pianist from Paris named Ivan Ilic. That is Ivan Ilic pictured above.

This is how my book and my blog have changed my life. I see this European number on my cell phone screen and I think: It could be anybody! Now that I am the authorized biographer of Leonard Pennario everyone wants to know me. Dignum et justum est, as they say at Mass. That means, "It is right and just." It is always a little awkward to talk to someone who has been reading your blog. Your brain cannot quite figure out if the person is a friend or a stranger or what. But I enjoyed our conversation.

Here is a picture of Ivan Ilic's Debussy CD that he sent me a few weeks ago, to my great delight. Good thing he did not send a copy to Susan Banks! OK, I will stop now. I said enough about that yesterday.

Hmmm. Looking at that CD gets me thinking that our new friend Mr. Ilic looks a little like our old friend Stephen Hough, the pianist who was reading the blog last week or whenever. Remember Stephen Hough?



There are other things too that are interesting about Mr. Ilic. One is that he puts his birthdate on Facebook as Aug. 11, 1911. He is looking good for his age! That is what someone wrote on his wall on Facebook. Needless to say I asked Ivan Ilic if he would be my friend on Facebook. You do not get a call from a concert pianist and not ask that. And he said yes! That will show a certain few people in Buffalo who are hemming and hawing about whether or not to be my friend and you know who you are.

Mr. Ilic has a dandy Web site you can check out here. He is coming to Toronto on his next tour. He will be performing on Feb. 17 and 19 at the Glenn Gould Studio. I can't wait until there is a Leonard Pennario Studio too. Perhaps we can locate it in Big Blue! We have room. That is for sure.

One more thing: Mr. Ilic let me talk a lot about Leonard Pennario, and I mean a lot. Over the ocean! He was calling from Bordeaux, where he was practicing Godowsky transcriptions of Chopin etudes. We were laughing about however big and difficult something was, Godowsky would figure out a way to make it bigger and more difficult. In case you are new to classical music, trust me, you will love Leopold Godowsky. You can learn about this unusual super-virtuoso here.

Normally Ivan Ilic is based in Paris. It is no wonder he called Buffalo. Both cities are known as the City of Light.

OK, Buffalo is actually the City of Light Beer.

But we do not mind if a word is lost in translation.

Talking stalking

Buffalo Jenn, such a sweet comment yesterday! She is the most tender-hearted girl. I always remember when I was out in California and I had to take the plunge and start reading my book to Leonard Pennario, and it went well, and I got this comment from Buffalo Jenn: "Awesome job." That still makes me smile.

And when I had that extremely odd experience when I drove to the wilds of Tonawanda to pick up that ancient hi-fi and they were playing Pennario's Chopin waltzes, wasn't that Jenn telling me she thought it was Leonard saying hello?

I am really feeling good these days. It is not only because of Buffalo Jenn but because of the UB Bulls. How about those UB Bulls? Stampeding to victory! I am a UB girl, I may as well admit that.

And of course David Letterman has to go and slam us. Some dumb joke about not being able to spell Buffalo. Well, I am affectionate about Letterman even though we do not agree on anything. I remember when he was young and cute and women were stalking him. Remember when David Letterman had that stalker? He was just about the first person I remember being stalked. He ushered in that fad.

I bet people stalked Pennario. I mean, look at me. I stalked him, before he came to Buffalo last fall. I called him once to interview him and I had such a good time with him that I decided talking to him just one hour wasn't enough, and when I was having a tough day a week later I called him again. I made up some excuse. Then I called him a couple of days after that. That time I did not even bother to pretend I was working.

Then the day after that I had this conversation with Jeff Simon at the computer printer. Jeff Simon is our arts editor and I love him so I tend to vent to him. This particular day I was kvetching because I had to interview this other pianist, Andras Schiff. And all Schiff would do was an email interview. Not only that, but you had to buzz the questions over to some intermediary, who in turn passed the questions on to him! And, I mean, I had been honored to talk to a million musicians including Van Cliburn, Gary Graffman, Andre Watts, whoever. I will not even get into the violinists. I will just say that nobody puts you through this email business. No one gives you this kind of trouble.

That was what I was whining about to Jeff at the printer. And Jeff said, "Well, people get worried." Something like that.

"Worried about what?" I said.

"Well, they don't know who is calling them up. They worry that person could turn into some kind of problem."

"That's ridiculous," I said. "I'm a professional. I would never--"

Then I remembered Pennario! I mean, I had called him three times! He did not act as if he was bothered by it -- in the third phone call, he even let me do my imitation of Joan Fontaine in "Rebecca," where she says, "Sometimes I do go back to Manderley..."
But what if he was bothered and he did not show it?

What if I were stalking him and I did not know it?

Listen to me, one more rhyme and I'll really be a poet!

Well, even if I were stalking Pennario, I do not think Andras Schiff would have had anything to worry about. I mean, watch that video of him up above. He is not the kind of guy who would appreciate your imitation of Joan Fontaine. Here is a picture of Schiff stylin' ...



... but still he is not the kind of guy you would stalk.

There is one real stalker and that is Ron Moss. Back when he drove a cab he used to call his fares the next day. Howard has told me about that. Moss is the stalkers' stalker, Howard has said. "Yeah, this is Ron," Moss would say. "I drove you home lastnight." And people would flip out.

Moss will be able to do that again once he gets back in the saddle as our driver for the Grim Reaper ride service.

Calling Hollywood

Yesterday, as the hours flew, I did all kinds of odd jobs for the book. Here is one thing I did: I tried to call Joan Fontaine, the actress. Her number was in Leonard Pennario's address book. Unfortunately her line was busy. Twice! Then it was time to go to church -- it was the feast of the Immaculate Conception -- so I had to run out the door. Don't worry. I will keep trying!

Joan Fontaine and Pennario worked together in the 1950 movie "September Affair." She played a concert pianist and it was Pennario's job to coach her and make it look as if she were really playing the piano. He had funny stories involving that. Once he escorted her to the Oscars. She was lucky, having Pennario as a date! Imagine that.

Pennario played on the soundtrack of "September Affair." Click on the Pennario link up above and you'll hear him. I have run that link before but I never get sick of it.

Besides trying to call Joan Fontaine I did other stuff. This is how putting a book together works. At least this is the only way I have figured out how to do it, with my nutty schedule. You do this, you do that, it all adds up. Brick by brick, as they say in Scripture.

I called a couple of Pennario's friends whom I had met at the luncheon after his funeral. It embarrassed me that I had not called them before now although Howard tells me now that it has really not been that long. It is still less than six months since that surreal week at the end of June.

Leonard's friend Chuck, one of the people I called, lives in Hawaii. He and his wife were especially nice to me, I remember that. Very warm. Yesterday he answered his phone he was in the middle of a meeting -- he is a real estate developer -- but we made an appointment to talk and then he told me: "I am so happy to hear from you. I am so glad you called."

He is a very handsome man, I remember that. Blue eyes. And the other person I called yesterday, a woman named Dannine, is very beautiful. She and her husband met Pennario at the beach club in Beverly Hills. I remember her telling me he was just lying around the sauna and they made friends and it was some time before they even realized he was a concert pianist. That is how wonderful Pennario was. I will not say he had no ego, because he knew what he was. But he did not shove it in your face.

Imagine meeting Vladimir Horowitz in the sauna. I know, No. 1 you would not want to meet him in the sauna and No. 2 he would not be there anyway. Horowitz was too boring to go anywhere near a sauna. But imagine meeting him there, just for argument's sake. He would let you know who he was right away!

Notice Joan Fontaine never asked Horowitz to go with her to the Oscars.

Here is Horowitz's idea of a good time.



When Pennario was 17 he went and played for Horowitz. I bet he was in that very room. I used to love it when Pennario talked about that. He would get me laughing so hard.

Where was I? Leonard's friend Dannine.

After the funeral I sat with her and her husband at the luncheon. They invited me to. I will never forget that day. I couldn't eat anything because my bracees were giving me problems and also because I was too overwhelmed by seeing these people whom I had heard about from Leonard, and who were in his diaries. This is Dannine, I was thinking. He used to go to her house on Christmas Eve. That is how close they were.

She was crying. I felt so bad for her and I was trying to figure out what to say to console her. There are just no words at a time like that. I was thinking what a flip my life had done. One day I am at my desk at The Buffalo News, calling this man, this pianist, I had hardly heard of. And then it was as if something picked me up and put me in this different world.

Writing a book about someone, I am telling you, it is a strange experience.