When I attended a few of Prince’s gigs back in spring 2014, Prince during those shows seemed to offer a genuine, open invitation to his fans to visit his home. I don’t live near MPLS, but like so many of us I wanted to pay my respects to our man at the tribute, and since I may well never visit MPLS again, I decided to book a tour of Paisley Park, even though I knew it was probably waay too early, and like many I would inevitably struggle emotionally through it.
I arrived about an hour early. Having received an email requesting not to enter the grounds any earlier than 20 mins prior to tour time, I went for a walk up Audobon Road, though there wasn’t too much to see. I passed the Kingdom Hall and got as far as Heron Ave (I think) before heading back. It was surprisingly windy, and an hour was probably far too long a time to have to mull over lingering doubts as to whether a visit to his home now was really what Prince would have wished.
Having finally summoned up the courage to enter, there were only 2 gates to choose from, so I had a 50% chance of trying to enter through the correct gate. Unsurprisingly I got it wrong, though I seemed to be directed back in the same direction of the other gate. Is was a strange start, and I wondered quite what the point was. Maybe the security guard saw I could use the exercise.
On arriving at the entrance to the Park, I was slightly confused by the group of fans milling about outside. After a short while an employee popped out, and enthusiastically explained there were 2 lines to enter, the right line being for standard entry.
I waited in line. Once inside the door, a staff member put my fone in a secure holder and handed it back to me. I then joined the next queue to the left, even though I didn’t have a scooby what it was for, doh! The folks behind me didn’t seem to have a clue what they were queuing for either, so I didn’t feel QUITE so stoopid.
Anyway, it turned out it was a queue to buy a purple Paisley Park USB for a snapshot as a memento of the visit. Having purchased one, I headed over to the corridor leading to the atrium. As the park was totally mobbed with visitors, we spent a short while waiting there to start the tour.
Our guide introduced herself to us (as Jenny, I think, though knowing my dodgy memory she is just as likely to be called Bob George). I’m not sure exactly how she phrased it, but she very kindly conveyed to us that the staff were aware and understanding of the range of mixed emotions that we fans were likely to feel throughout our visit.
Having nicely expressed their empathy, she brought our attention to all the award discs that were mounted on the corridor wall. Although interesting and impressive, apparently Prince was not so enamoured, as our guide explained that he used to dismiss them as “just a buncha numbers”. That line made me think of work.
She pointed out the mural of Princes eyes with the sun in between shining a golden ray of presumably sunlight through the loop of his symbol directly over our heads. With the sky blue backdrop I reflected that it kinda made it look like he was in heaven.
If I remember correctly, she gently warned us that he would continue to keep his eyes on us. I’m not sure if that was a little advice to behave ourselves, but if so, everyone I saw seemed very respectful, having been given this rare opportunity to visit Prince’s home and experience a little glimpse into his world.
There were 2 quotes on either side of the door behind us. The left hand quote particularly piqued my curiosity. I can’t recall exactly what it said, but I think perhaps the gist was along the lines of, your time would be better spent in my arms that engaged in a paper chase, or something vaguely like that.
Since we seemed to have time to kill, I had a look at some of the award discs, and wondered if Prince meant that as a question coming from God, or else from himself, or possibly even both? I was pondering possibly whether it MAY be intended as a warning not to beware becoming entangled in the net of either work at the office, and/or perhaps materialism.
Like most folks I suppose, I’ve got several weaknesses and character flaws, but since I’ve been married I’m no longer a workaholic, and in any case I have long since learned many years ago that people, love and time are far more valuable than any career or possessions, even though some of those vain things may still charm me most alas...like my good ole Prince collection.
I had always thought that Prince seemed pretty grounded for a genius (albeit in the past I was somewhat alienated by his unusual perspective on time, which apparently completely unlike Prince I perceive to be precious). I can’t help but wonder whether over the years he may have become so withdrawn from our extraordinary, ordinary world that he did not appreciate the need for folks to work to provide for themselves, pay the rent/mortgage, bills etc.
I work with a colleague who has raised 3 kids on a low salary, and has had to work many long hours in order to provide for them. He is a bit of a Prince fan and he finally treated himself to a weekend break to go and see him live back in 2007. He must have been about 40 at the time, and it was great to see that he was so excited about the experience, especially as he also got to fly for the first time. In the real world folks have responsibilities to their families/loved ones (in my case I spent umpteen years joint caring for a paralysed parent), and have little option but to devote a lot of their time working hard to provide that care.
As Prince reputedly came from such an impoverished background, perhaps this MAY simply be him passing on his experience that he can vouch that there is no peace or contentment to be found in the worthless pursuit of temporal material things, and we would much better off making sure our souls are alright. Well, I’m just thinking out loud…at least that quote provoked me to think upon it, even if I fear that the point he is stressing may well have passed over my head or through the space between my ears.
Eventually we got to enter the atrium (complete lack of patience being one of my aforementioned character flaws). We were given the freedom to explore at our own pace, which I thought was nice. I probably shouldn’t go into too much detail, as I don’t want to spoil the experience for anyone who is still reading.
If I recall correctly the atrium may be painted a sweet sky blue. You’ll probably immediately notice how for such an enclosed space it’s surprisingly brightly lit via its pyramid skylight. There are doves painted on the wall just below the skylight, which I thought was a nice touch.
Sadly I hadn’t realised Prince’s urn was housed in a glass case here, so it was a nasty surprise to hear I think possibly one of the tour guides mention it, momentarily causing me to look to my right, and catching an unwanted fleeting glimpse of what I presume to be the Perspex case housing it.
I’m not the most self-aware, and I’m very poorly coordinated, so I often find myself shuffling awkwardly in museums (and china shops for fear or breakages). I may well have been 20 yards from Prince’s urn, but at the time it felt like I nearly walked into the blessed thing, which would have been just like me (ie. clumsily doing exactly the opposite of my intention).
I was aware that I wasn’t remotely ready to confront it, so I felt a tad unnerved to be standing so close unintentionally. I suppose I feel that I carry a lot more baggage than most casual fans, and I just didn’t feel able to face it. I realise that’s pretty pathetic, but there’s an inescapable finality to a grave/urn.
Moreover, no man wants to be seen weeping publicly (not in my limited experience at any rate), and I don’t believe that Prince is really in there anyway, just his mortal remains, so I’m not sure that there’s much point or value to Prince or anyone in saying goodbye/love you/miss you/sorry/whatever to his urn. I fully appreciate that others may feel very differently about that of course.
‘Bob George’ then invited us to gather over at the far side of the urn. She pointed out Majesty and Divinity, which were nice to see, as I like birds (well, except perhaps for seagulls and grotty pigeons). It struck me as odd that in a group of 15 diehard fans nobody knew their names when asked. That said, I didn’t answer either, so perhaps folks were feeling a little shy. She invited those of us who wanted to pay our respects to do so, and also to explore some of the rooms that lead off the atrium with the exception of the Lovesexy room, which apparently isn’t quite ready yet.
It was nice to read his handwritten lyrics to Soft and Wet, and visit the 2 small themed rooms, Diamonds and Pearls & Sign of the Times, which made me feel nostalgic. Again I had perhaps better not spoil these for the reader, though I am sure any prospective visitor will enjoy them. You can’t help but be immediately struck by his outfits, which made me realise how dapper Prince must have been, and indeed how petite.
We then came to Prince’s personal office. This felt a bit more like personal space (albeit of a business nature), and that made it more emotional for me to experience than the small themed rooms. Needless to say the urn had already understandably caused some to shed a few tears.
I’d promised myself on my walk that I wasn’t going to shed any tears in public. I’m pretty good at putting on a determined, stony face. I didn’t even cry at my dad’s funeral a few years ago, so I was fairly confident I could control myself and not show any grief, sorrow or pain.
I had better not go into too much detail again, but this was a very interesting room to me. There were albums lying on the first desk, and a couple of bookcases with books about ancient Egypt (Nefertiti etc) and possibly even perhaps a bible dictionary (?), which if correct is not something I was even aware existed.
It felt terribly sad to see his personal desk & chair, and reflect that he would never sit there again. He had a stack of CDs, but my eyesight is too poor to pick any of them out, sorry! As I left, there was a cute small compass table with faith, hope, love and charity as the NSEW directions, I think.
Prince’s personal space to hang out was at the back of the atrium, which appropriately is not accessible to visitors, though you may be able to see some of it through the glass. We were told he liked to watch his favourite sports teams there, the timber wolves, though interestingly there was no mention of the Vikings, so perhaps he didn’t care for football. Apparently he was a big fan of the local women’s basketball team. I think it probably would take the company of Prince to get me to sit through one of their games!
We needed to wait for the party ahead of us to clear the next room. There were plenty of award discs on the walls of the atrium to keep us occupied, so I spent the remainder of my time in the atrium, skirting the edges, trying vainly to block out the tiny white elephant in the room.
When we did enter what I think was an editing suite, we had doubled in size to 30, some of us being dubbed Diamonds and Pearls, or The Beautiful Ones to avoid confusion. On entering I felt it was slightly awkward. Cassie and the Paisley Park estate manager (whose name I have forgotten already, surprise surprise) were sitting there, presumably having a private conversation, and perhaps even possibly working, when we kinda butted in, albeit I presume our tour guide had okayed it with them hopefully.
They were both very gracious with their time, introducing themselves and asking where we were from (mostly from Kansas it seemed). She explained her role within Prince’s band, but she also had another title which I think she said she held for a few years and was possibly ‘musical tour director’, which surprised me, as I always assumed Prince would be insistent on the last word on live arrangements. I may have misheard though, as my hearing isn’t great and I was at the back.
They also very kindly showed us a few clips of live footage and even permitted our group to ask a few questions about our hero, which I thought were pretty much wasted on mundane, meaningless crap like what did Prince drive (who cares, although if you are interested in cars, I think they mentioned a beamer, a Bentley and presumably some American makes I’m unfamiliar with, and they have apparently considered the possibility of displaying them, yawn) and how much is the Park worth (incredibly even less interesting than cars, sigh….I think they said about $10 million, though I was at the back so could easily be completely wrong).
Thankfully someone had asked what would surprise us about Prince. I think Cassie replied how hilariously funny Prince was, and also they said he could cook…just one speciality though…eggs, I think. I think someone asked if they tasted good, and although the reply was in the affirmative, it didn’t strike me as terribly convincing.
I think the next room we entered was possibly Studio A. I won’t go into much detail, so you can enjoy it for yourself. It’s a surprisingly large space, where you’ll get a chance to see Prince’s original Linn LM-1 and what I had mistakenly thought was an old Oberheim synth (I think the room guide called it something completely different), and also some handwritten lyrics to a song, which was called “Stay Cool”. My eyesight is not so sharp these days, so I was never likely to be able to make them out.
They gave us a short preview from a cool jazz-fusion track Prince had been working on, which the studio guide was hopeful (though far from certain) would be released at some point in the future. I think he also indicated that Prince wanted the Park to continue to operate both as a museum and an active recording studio, which is very good news imho. One of the tour guides also read out the sequence of albums recorded in that very studio, which I think ran from Lovesexy through to and including Emancipation.
It struck me as slightly odd that she needed to read his album titles from prepared prompt cards. In fact at no point was I under the impression that these tours were being conducted by diehard fans, which initially had struck me as somewhat surprising. By the end of the tour I was reflecting that whoever hired the staff had been quite wise, as they seemed to be a really nice, caring bunch of folks. After all, the staff can always learn more about Prince and brush up on their knowledge, but it’s not so easy to change your attitude, heart or personality.
On reflecting upon how kind the staff seemed, starting with the enthusiastic welcome of the lady organising the queue at the entrance to right throughout the tour, it still felt a little like organised chaos at times (and even that seems kinda appropriate to me, cos I think of Prince as spontaneous and that is how I imagine he MAY have rolled at times).
This haphazard impression may have been due in part to the deluge of folks on site (tribute pilgrims like myself) and also may not been helped by the fact the park was not designed to be a museum and consequently has pretty narrow corridors for such a crowd of folks to explore (aren’t the original carpets going to be ruined by the herd of NPG trampling across them?).
When Prince invited us during the concerts in 2014, he mentioned his big ole bed, which we didn’t see (ground floor tour only, so thankfully no really personal space infringed on), but I can attest that the promise he made at that time of the visiting fans being well taken care of during their visit was admirably fulfilled by the Park staff, and I think he would be well pleased with their attitude and efforts, so they deserve no small credit for giving us such a warm welcome to his home.
We waited briefly in a corridor decorated with a long mural running along one wall, marking Prince’s collaborative talents, and bandmates to his left (kinda amused me a little that Cat has the heart obscuring her face reminiscent of the SOTT single cover, after she recently publicly reminded the estate not to use her image without her consent). I’m not 100% sure what lay on the right hand of Prince, as being in a group of 30 I was unable to see, though I think the guide said that it was his musical heroes/inspirations, so I’m guessing possibly James, Stevie, Sly, Joni, George etc?
In Studio C you are provided with what I guess is now a pretty infamous (thanks to ‘Lenny’ and friend) photo opportunity at the piano. It was understandably popular, and thankfully when I was there folks seemed appropriately respectful. I’m not even sure if anyone even laid a hand on his piano, though I think perhaps we were only verbally forbidden to touch the guitar (could be wrong about that though).
I’m always naturally highly sceptical about folks experiencing supposed messages from beyond the grave and the like, but in a strange kinda way I felt a poignant reminder about something I thought had long since expired, and also something I already understood & am unlikely ever to forget. From a purely personal perspective it also felt like I experienced a bit of an epiphany that Prince was preparing to leave us behind, which was a nasty, painful jolt to me.
If I’m being honest with myself, I suppose I had already very reluctantly feared this for a few reasons: he seems to have gone through a process of making up/reconnecting with a number of old pals like Morris, giving me the impression of making up and/or saying goodbye to all his loved ones, and also the personal and surprisingly frank, open and at times brave nature of AOA, the working on his memoirs and the sombre, reflective tone of the final Piano & a Microphone Tour.
I desperately didn’t want to believe it, but in my heart I have found it increasingly hard to evade the feeling that Prince knew his passing was approaching. I realise that anyone reading this may consider this a tad delusional, but when I saw he had bought the Swan Silvertones Gospel Classics, The Time Has Come, Hejira (which I think means a journey in the form of an exodus kind of departure like Moses fleeing Egypt?) and the best of Missing Persons, I just couldn’t shake if off my heart that he felt his passing was imminent. I may be completely wide of the mark, but his buying the best of Missing Persons strikes me as his little joke, since that is surely exactly what he is now, the very best of persons that we are badly missing. Ok, so maybe all that’s probably a load of complete nonsense, but it’s what I feel.
One thing I do find somewhat reassuring about this, as distressing as it is to me, is that I feel reassured that the museum is what Prince wanted (that he either set up a lot of it up prior to his passing, or else left some very specific instructions) and equally importantly those he left in charge (Tyka & co) are doing their utmost to respect his wishes, follow his instructions, and nurture his legacy. Hence, if I can take one encouraging positive from my visit to the Park, it is that hopefully that we fans need not worry (not that worrying helps anyway of course) and can rest assured that Prince’s music, legacy and estate are in very good hands.
On a lighter note, there is also a ping pong table in this studio, where we were encouraged to play. It’s a very long time since I played, but it was tempting all the same. One of the guys playing wore a pretty impressive Parade outfit, and I guess as an opponent he would have been about as close to playing Prince at Paisley Park as I could ever have got.
Alas, he seemed to be playing a friend though, and perhaps it’s just as well, as I always particularly hated losing at ping pong (my sister can attest to that, as she used to beat me regularly as a kid, causing me to hurl the bat away in frustration at another close defeat…she is a few years older than me and I suspect she had great fun almost letting me win repeatedly, only to dash my hopes right at the death). As I watched them play, the guy in the Parade outfit hit a topspin recovery from about 6 feet behind the table! Methinks I think I would’ve needed a super-sneaky serve just to get a point off of him!
Our tour guide then needed to greet her next group so she invited us to explore the next few rooms at our own leisure, although she then seemed to follow us to the Purple Rain room, which was mildly bemusing. I couldn’t make out what was being said most of the time, as the Purple Rain footage was turned up pretty loud here. It was cool to see his Oscar and the original tour piano, complete with scuff marks from Prince’s dancing on top of it.
I think the next area was dedicated to Parade, which again made me feel nostalgic. I think our guide told us that there is an original color version of Under the Cherry Moon. Next to the Parade display was the small Graffiti Bridge leather jacket with the symbol in gold on its back, along with I think perhaps the motor bike from Purple Rain/Graffiti Bridge.
Following this we came to an enormous soundstage area with a handful of stage set ups from different eras such as the NPG circa 1994 and Third Eye Girl. There was live footage showing. When it got to a clip of Prince playing ‘Free Yourself’ from his last tour, it was a bit much for me and I kinda melted (that footage would probably melt a heart of stone), but thankfully it was VERY dark in there and sparsely populated, so I was able to scurry off to a dark corner unnoticed and try to gather myself, though I was pretty annoyed at my feeble lack of self-control. Feeling ashamed, thankfully there were restrooms nearby providing some respite, and a much-needed brief opportunity to recompose myself.
After that I came to an area for relaxing, which I think is called the Love 4 One Another Room. Relaxed was about the last thing I was feeling, so I promptly headed off to the next room, where there were tributes from the fence, including a cute wee purple teddy bear. They were also showing the Superbowl half-time performance, but by this stage my time allowed to be on the premises according to my email had already elapsed, and no guest likes to outstay their welcome after all.
As I headed out of the Park, I entered a large white tent, housing various assorted merchandise and also an area where folks are able to sit and have a coffee and try out some of Prince’s favourite munchies. Alas, by this stage I didn’t manage to ‘stay cool’ and wasn’t at my most composed emotionally.
Even though with reflection I accept the need to fund the Park and recognise that this was entirely in accordance with Prince’s wishes, at the time the sight of my fellow fans swarming over the merchandise so soon after his passing got under my skin a little. Completely wrongly (the shopping area isn’t even in the building after all) it made me think of the money lenders in the temple for some stupid reason. Already emotionally compromised and further unsettled by these misgivings, I didn’t hang about, wandering back to the car, vowing to myself I’d never be back.
Just as I reached the car, I put my hand in my pocket to find my fone, and guess what? Grumpy bonehead here had of course completely forgotten that it had been placed in a fone security holder. Since the car was parked nearer the far end of the cul de sac I must confess that it felt like a mighty long walk back to gate (serves me right!). This walk gave me ample time to reflect on the tent and on my abject failure to heed Prince’s advice to ‘stay cool’.
I sheepishly explained my return to the gatekeeper (a different one from earlier) who seemed amused by my predicament and consequent embarrassment. It was whilst I was walking back through the grounds that I imagined Prince getting a good wee chuckle at me having to return through the gates with my tail between my legs less than 10 mins after promising to myself never to return, when leaving under a dark cloud of misery & irritation. I don’t know whether he was able to see that, but it sure would be nice to think that he did and got a right good laugh at my expense.
Well, that’s the end of my story, of my visit to Paisley Park. Prince graciously extended the invitation. I SORELY wish I’d taken him up on it before he left us. He even played a gig at Paisley Park a few years back when I was in MPLS, but alas I needed to attend my brother-in-law’s birthday party that night (he’s probably one of the kindest hearted souls I’ve ever met, I get along well with him, and I would’ve felt like crap disappointing my nieces & nephews, since we only see them once in a blue moon).
Sadly I left it too late, thinking I had much more time than I had; I missed him and no doubt always will. The place is still magical without him of course. Paisley Park is in my heart, but it will never hold a place in my affections like its owner. A Case of You is a favourite song of mine, and I felt my experience at the Park turned out to be ‘oh so bitter, oh so sweet’.
When I had talked myself into entering the Park initially, as I wandered along windy Audubon Road, I was encouraged by the memory of a sign that I had read a couple of days earlier outside a local church which had simply stated, ‘God sent you’. Selfishly and completely erroneously I had hoped that this may have been the case to provide me with some small measure of ‘closure’ (which was pretty unrealistic, since I suspect that would almost certainly at least require talking with Prince).
However, I realise now that it was never about me at all, and, if it ever it was the case that I’d been sent there, I feel it would only have been simply to provide Prince with the last word, as is only right, and I’d like to think hopefully the last laugh too, God-willing.
Thanks for sharing your memories of your experience in Minnesota and touring Paisley Park.
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