The Princess and the Showguy
A tale of how a princess met her Prince, by Gloria von Thurn und Taxis
My friend Lamia Khashoggi first told me about Prince. She played me Purple Rain and said, “This is the sexiest man alive!” I liked it but, for my taste, the album wasn’t funky enough. I was, however, intrigued by his Jimi Hendrix-style guitar solos.
When I heard he and his band, The Revolution, were coming to Europe on tour, I found out that his manager was Steven Fargnoli. I called his office and asked to speak to him. “I’d like to meet you,” I said. (OK, I might have mentioned I was a princess from Germany…)
Arriving at Fargnoli’s hotel in Paris was exciting. There where a lot of women waiting for him. I spotted him immediately: average, my age, friendly and curious-looking. He gave me a backstage pass, and off we went in his limousine to the venue, where I chatted up the musicians as I met them. No sign of Prince. Fargnoli took us girls to the soundboard where we watched the show. It was amazing. I was mesmerised. I’d been going to rock concerts since I was 15, but this one-man show was unique. Prince was incredibly sexy and, although small of stature, had huge stage presence. He was also a superb and versatile guitarist, playing blow-away solos. Everybody seemed equally hypnotised by this musical wonderman.
Back at the hotel, we were dying to know what Prince was up to later. I learned that he never went to bed until early morning, and that he often liked to play an impromptu concert in some small nightclub for the lucky few who were there. Unfortunately, they weren’t going back on stage that night. Instead, they were visiting Les Bain Douches, where I finally met the man himself. I almost fainted, but tried to remain cool – I did not want to come across as a stupid teenager. In a white fur jacket and towering heels, he spoke in a low, masculine voice, simply saying, “Hi.” No handshake. He did not come across as shy – rather, he looked like someone who knew exactly what he wants. I was lucky enough to sit between him and Steven. He was not interested in small talk. He was whispering into the ear of the girl next to him, whom I gathered was his girlfriend. After a while he turned to me and said, “Wanna dance?” Of course! The few moves he made were very rhythmic. I hoped my dancing wasn’t exposing my excitement – I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. When we sat back down, he never spoke to me again, and left shortly afterwards without saying goodbye. That’s when I realised his behaviour was somewhat strange – but what do you expect of such a great artist?
The next day I was again on the guest list and showed up at the hotel to hang around the crew and, I hoped, Prince. It was very relaxed. There were people from the night before, a few celebrities – Yoko Ono and son – some models and a few relatives. Prince himself never showed, either before or after the gig. This gave me the opportunity to meet and talk to everyone else, including backing singers and drummers, like the super-cool Sheila E. In no time, I knew the whole tour schedule, so Steven was not surprised when I asked if I could come to more shows. He gave me a tour pass and I was now welcome to hang around wherever they played – Stockholm, Milan, Paris, Munich. My darling husband must have understood how important this was to me, as he didn’t try to stop me staying away another week. On the contrary, he enjoyed my enthusiasm and stories. I was excited and proud to be such an intimate part of Prince’s amazing tour.
I think it was in Stockholm that I was standing backstage at an aftershow gig. The band was playing the first set when I found Prince standing next to me. “This is so incredibly funky,” I said. Pleased, he answered: “This is what it’s all about.” I wasn’t able to get many words out of him, but I realised I was now part of the tour family.
Next, I went with the entourage to London, Paris and Milan. I also joined the 1988 “Lovesexy” tour in Milan, Munich and Hamburg. Then, suddenly, there were no more tours. Prince fired Steven Fargnoli that same year (tragically, he died of cancer in 2001), and changed his name in 1993 to an unpronounceable symbol.
Just last year, I hoped I might see him, as he was playing at the Jazz Festival in Montreux. I’m a friend of the festival’s founder, Claude Nobs, so got tickets and, at last, saw Prince again. This time he was really affectionate. He hugged me in such a nonchalant way, as if he had seen me the week before. “You look exactly like when I saw you last,” I said. “You haven’t changed, either,” he said. “How’s your dad?” I asked. “Oh, Dad passed away two years ago; I’ll tell you about it later” – and off he went to his changing room. Unfortunately, “later” was now too late for me. I needed some sleep, so I could not talk to him about his father, John Nelson, who had become my friend during the “Lovesexy” tour. He was a lovely, soft-spoken gentleman and we got on like a house on fire. He once invited me to dinner after a show. “Dinner”, at 1am. I rang the bell at Prince’s suite and he opened the door wearing baby-blue silk pyjamas. I will never forget that. We had dinner, just the three of us, and it was relaxed and cosy. I felt that Prince was really comfortable with me in his dad’s presence.
I once found this unique guitar builder in Germany who made the finest electric guitars in the world. His name was Jerry Auerswald. He only used wood that was over 100 years old and he mounted very elaborate fine pick-ups. His guitars have an incredible sound. I asked him to build a guitar especially for Prince. Jerry and I travelled to Milan, where Prince was giving a concert on his birthday. We arrived in his changing room carrying the guitar in a see-through case. It was the first time I saw him looking really happy and surprised. We told him the guitar was called Snow-White. He loved it! He opened it, looked at it in amazement and immediately plugged it into an amplifier and started playing. He was really pleased, but Jerry was even happier to have built a guitar to Prince’s liking. A week later we were told that Prince was so fond of its sound that he’d re-recorded all the guitar parts of his new album with it. Unfortunately, Prince had the guitar copied in America, which did not make Jerry happy at all…
Last year Prince played 21 concerts in London. Of course, I had to go. His new PA, Trevor, whom I’d met in Montreux, was kind enough to put me on the guest list. Unfortunately, Trevor was not half as fond of me as Steven had been, so it was much harder for me to get backstage. Luckily, I met Elton John and his husband David at the show and they dragged me backstage afterwards. That’s when I saw Prince again. He reluctantly said, “Hi.” I guess it was too near the Montreux encounter for him to have been more enthusiastic. Regardless, I went to see him another four times and managed to get backstage almost every time. I only saw Prince once more, very briefly. I introduced him to my sister Maya and told him I loved the show and that he looked as if he had been sleeping in a time capsule all these years. Flattered, but in a hurry, he left me standing there, while he was driven off in a limo.
I felt that my time had passed, and I was no longer part of the tour family. The staff and band had changed over the years and the only one I still knew was Prince himself. I have fond memories of the London concerts, at which he played some perfect shows, but my fondest memories remain of those early days.
- Princess Gloria von Thurn und Taxis is the legendary Punk Princess; the crazy coiffeurs have gone, the spirit prevails
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July 3rd, 2009 at 6:42 pm
Sharpness of sincerity! I began reading thinking is your daughter the author, than , ah, 1988. Well, good times for you. In 1988 I thought I’ll never in my life go to Paris, or anywhere outside my country, like everybody around me.But I kept reading books and devoring the rare glossy magazines. I think I read about you in one of them. I don’t remember if it was related to Prince or not.