I'm standing in an atrium inside Paisley Park. Unlike the couches and chairs (along with much of what we will see today) which are purple, the walls are sky blue with clouds up near the skylights designed to let in whatever sunlight they get in Minnesota. Staring down at us from inside their purple cage on the second floor are Majesty and Divinity, Prince's pet doves. It is revealed to us that the doves quit singing the day Prince died, and now that the staff pipes Prince tunes into the atrium, the doves have begun to sing once again. It is also revealed that the original doves died and were replaced, and it is suggested that they might have been replaced more than once, and maybe nobody told Prince. Directly over the entrance to the atrium is a mural of Prince's eyes, placed there as a reminder that the Purple One is always present in Paisley Park, looking down upon his guests... which makes the fact that he had the mural put there while he was still alive a little weird.
It's also a reminder that Prince, regardless of where he was, was always in charge -- he loved the camera, but demanded control of the audio and video he released. At the beginning of the tour under the watchful eye of two large security guards, everyone on the tour powered off our cellphones and placed them inside locked bags for the duration of the tour. There is no point in trying to circumvent the policy. Prince is watching.
Prince was a musical prodigy who played "all the instruments" by the time he was fourteen. At seventeen he was discovered by the owner of a local recording studio who told Prince he would "make him famous," and while undoubtedly Prince would have became famous no matter who discovered him first, it was producer Chris Moon (who swears the title of Prince's film "Under the Cherry Moon" is a reference to him -- "C. Moon") who recorded Prince's first demo and ultimately got him a contract with Warner Bros. On Prince's first four albums he essentially wrote all the songs and played all the instruments. On his fifth album, 1999, Prince teamed up with his new band, the Revolution. Once MTV put the videos for "1999" and "Little Red Corvette" into rotation, a superstar was born.
From there we are ushered into the "Purple Rain room," a room that began life as one of four professional recording studios inside the park and was converted to a choreography and dance space before ultimately being transformed into a tribute to all things Purple Rain. At one end of the room are two electronic instruments under glass, a drum machine and a synthesizer, both of which were used to record Purple Rain. On another wall are Prince's white cloud guitar from the movie and several of his outfits, including his purple jacket. Inside a display cabinet sits an Oscar and the cheap spiral notebook that contains Prince's handwritten copy of the film's script. On one of he walls is a large screen upon which clips from Purple Rain are being projected. And, in the middle of the room, is Prince's purple motorcycle from the film. It's not the only motorcycle used in the film, we are told -- there was also a stunt bike. We'll see it in another hour or so.
There's a generation split down the middle of tour group. Half of us, the Gen-X'ers, remember this era first hand. In the 1980s, Prince was everywhere. Purple Rain, the album, eventually sold 25 million copies. The movie made $70 million off a $7 million budget. With those profits, Prince sat down and drew up the plans for a $10 million, 65,000 square-foot complex which he named Paisley Park. The building would eventually house four recording studios, offices, living spaces, wardrobe and shoe departments, a snack bar complete with a Purple Rain-themed vending machine, and of course, "The Vault," a heavily guarded room filled with thousands of recordings that will likely never see the light of day.
The tour continues and throughout the day we see instruments, artifacts, and in one room, 300 pairs of Prince's shoes -- all of them women's size 5 1/2, all of them with 4" heels to make the 5'2" performer appear a little taller. From a video screen, one of Prince's wardrobe designers explains how he would throw out suggestions ("I want Barbarella, mixed with the Godfather") as inspirations for touring outfits.
What we really don't see are any people. Upon arrival we saw the group before us leaving, and on our way out we would pass the next group coming in, but all the employees inhabiting Paisley Park are... somewhere we're not. Again, the place is 65,000 square foot and we maybe saw 20% of it, so there's a lot of park not privy to visitors willing to shell out $50. I had imagined Paisley Park to be a bustling place, but in retrospect I'm guessing the wardrobe and shoe departments were laid off years ago, and whoever's updating the website probably does it from home. Maybe without Prince, there are no park people.
Like Graceland and Neverland Ranch, Paisley Park was equal parts castle and prison. Despite the fact that the grounds surrounding Paisley Park take up 9 acres (the house itself covers 1 1/2 of those acres), house arrest is still house arrest. When you reach a certain level of fame, you have to bring the world to you instead of venturing out into it. Throughout the day we are told of all the celebrities that visited Paisley Park, how Stevie Wonder and Madonna and R.E.M. all used his recording studios, how his soundstage was used to film videos and movies, and how he would entertain celebrities and local fans alike in the NPG club, which features seating for 200 and has its own bar.
And the part they don't tell you is how Prince died from an overdose in Paisley Park -- his lifeless body lay crumpled in an elevator floor, undiscovered for six hours. Hundreds of millions of albums sold to billions of fans, and in the end when we go, we go alone. His tour manager once said "he didn't have any close friends." Nobody has written an in-depth biography of Prince because nobody knew him that well. Prince took a lot with him when he shuffled off, but he left behind one hell of a house and a couple of doves.
