I should never write "to be continued" on a blog post; it implies an unspoken "soon" at the end of the sentence, and that's so not me.
I've been avoiding this post a bit, though. Partially because I worry that I'll offend someone by speaking frankly, even with good intentions, and partially because, you know, one must always be in the right mood to discuss Liberace.
So, where did I leave off? Okay, last Saturday we made the sudden detour around Wayne Newton's property, and doing so reminded me that - HEY! OH YEAH! - the Las Vegas Villa was holding an open house!
The LVL is the former home of Liberace. We drove past it back in November on the way to his museum, and we saw this cat:
Like I mentioned here around that time, I never really knew a lot about Liberace, but I remember his TV specials and he always seemed nice enough. After touring the museum, I was really impressed with his charitable work toward animals and his drive to stay positive and bring people happiness, but I didn't go on a Liberace "kick" or anything. I didn't think I'd ever drive past his house again, let alone go inside.
But then the ever-splendid "Uncle Jack" at VeryVintageVegas.com, put out the all-call on his blog that the Las Vegas Villa was opening the house to the public for one day only. Seems they're having a bit of bureaucratic run-around with their parking permit, and they'd like for people to contact the county commissioner to show support for getting the permit renewed. As a show of gratitude, anyone could pop by and get a rare peep at Liberace's favourite home in Las Vegas.
It is also the home that serves as the main backdrop in Scott Thorson's Behind the Candelabra, which I'm reading at the moment. Thorson was Liberace's lover in the late 1970s, the one who famously sued for palimony. He's also a bit of a drug fiend and a liar. Well, he was when he provided his memories to the ghost writer. He has since admitted to Larry King to being a drug user at the time, and the "lying" is probably more a case of misremembering than anything else. (Again, see "druggie" part.)
Thorson is probably a decent guy today, and since he claims to have never been gay, to have only just gone along with Liberace, I'm sure he'd write a different book now than this one, with its account of how he was gay long before he met the entertainer. Regardless, I have to read this book with an enormous grain of salt (probably one of those fancy rocks from Whole Foods) because even I, with my bare hour or so spent in Liberace's home, am finding just the measly facts that I know to be in error. (The house is not a block long, the Moroccan room is not downstairs, etc.) Therefore, it's very difficult to trust the more subjective matter.
Doesn't mean it's not enjoyable to read, though. Heck, I know I can't trust Liberace's autobiography, either. The man couldn't admit he wasn't straight. I understand why - he would've had to admit he lied in London court way back when (too long a story to retell if you don't know it) - but I think it means we will always lack a compelling insight into Liberace's mind.
(And here's the part where the book reviews end and we get to just enjoying his sparkling personality and wardrobe.)
But, speaking of limited perspectives and carefully constructed realities, I'm going to admit that I'm leaving out a lot of commentary about our visit. It was a really great opportunity, and I'm very grateful to our hosts for being so kind. Essentially, my deleted thoughts come down to some of the design choices that have been made since Liberace passed away. (However, another person owned the property for almost 20 years before the current owner bought it three years ago, so maybe no one would be upset if I said there were a few peas rolling under my mattress.)
So, I - the person who still has only two items hanging on the bare walls of her endlessly beige apartment - will sit on my fingers and keep them from typing stuff like, "OMG, why don't they completely demolish XYZ and toss out ABC? Bring back JKL and PQR!" Because, hey, maybe they will? Or maybe GHI was actually Liberace's favourite thing in the house. Or, maybe I should just STFU.
We parked at UNLV and walked the block or so across Tropicana and down Shirley street. Liberace's home is on the left at the end. Mike started getting cold feet - there weren't any balloons or fliers or signs saying, "Come on in!" Were we going to have to knock on the door?
Luckily a man came out and we verified that, yes, the open house was still on, and yes, you could just walk right in.
So we did!
I recognized the staircase right away. It's featured on a video I linked after touring the museum, which I'll link it again at the bottom of this post. The first three minutes take place at the house, and it's impressive, now, to see the property as it was in Liberace's time. (And heartbreaking to see him in the pool with the piano keys painted around the edge. Now the pool is filled in and covered with a banquet room, suitable for the functions to which the Las Vegas Villa caters, but a loss to the style of the house.)
We avoided the socializing in the living room and wandered off to the right, into the hall of mirrors. I didn't want to whip out the SLR and intrude on the hospitality, nor did I want to ask if I could - I'm shy like that when dealing with individuals. So, it was the camphone that took this first photo, a lovely picture of Mike next to Liberace's personal toilet:
The bathroom and bedroom are the most oo-la-la areas of the house. It's fun to read Thorson's book and know exactly what he's talking about when he mentions the Sistine Chapel reproduction and the huge tub:
Liberace's closet is on the right, although now it's a TV room with a door leading outside (to where the cat was sitting).
It was a great deal of fun, wandering around the place by ourselves:
(Yes, I forgot that my phone has the self-portrait feature. But it's hard not to take a mirror shot in Liberace's house!)
We finished wandering the downstairs, completely clueless about what we were seeing but willing to make up stories, when we stood at the foot of the staircase, trying to figure out whether we were allowed upstairs. More people had arrived and gathered in the living room, and that's when we were told that we'd be given a proper tour. Anti-social as I can be, I wasn't leaving without a look at the upstairs, so I shuffled into the living room with Mike in tow.
My camphone makes a really loud noise, even on the least obnoxious setting, so I didn't get any pics of the living room, dining room, or the piano given to Liberace by Johnny Carson. (I do wonder why that one is still in the house when the museum up the street has so many of the others. By the way, the Villa and the Liberace Museum/Foundation are not affiliated.)
When we got to the bedroom, our lovely hostess invited us to get on the bed, take pictures, and enjoy ourselves as we went along. Suddenly everyone's phone was out, and I whipped out the Canon faster than Liberace could play the Minute Waltz.
(He could play it in 37 seconds, so that's not really so fast, but whatever.)
Mike didn't want to get on the bed, but you can see him here, under the Sistine Chapel ceiling painted by a descendant of Michelangelo:
That photo is okay, but if I'd known we were going to end up at Liberace's house, I would not have been packing just the 50mm lens and the telephoto. I know everyone loves the 50mm, and I do too, but you have to do a lot of backing up if you want any wide shots. Back up too far in Liberace's house, and you'll end up with a smash-bang into a mirror with a hair full of Baccarat droppings.)
We got to hear all kinds of anecdotes on the tour, which was fun. We also heard a bit about Liberace's ghost. And I got to privately make what I think was a funny remark to Mike about Liberace's ghost, but it may offend some parties, so it would be easier if you just imagine the funniest thing anyone could say about Liberace's ghost and pretend I said it. Hilarious, wasn't it? I thought so!
Of course, I would never say anything disrespectful about Liberace. Especially not after hearing about what his ghost will do if you're rude in his house. Who could pick on such a happy guy?
Then we did get to go upstairs, where the beautiful Moroccan room was added to the two houses that were combined to make this property.
Also upstairs is a bar area, with floors made with wood from a ship. (Unfortunately, the owners don't know which ship.) It's a very different area from the Baroque + bling + shag + midcentury + post-Liberace fusion that is the style downstairs. I like this photo of Mike's feet on the wood, standing at the top of the stairs:
And then there were those stairs:
We slipped away from the tour upstairs to get this photo. The personable owner was in the living room, chatting, and he called out bye to us and tried to persuade us to take a cookie for the road. (Alas, the Indian buffet was still very much with our tummies.) We took a last long look and went outside.
All in all, a fun and unexpected outing. I'm really glad we got the chance to go, and I hope the current owners will have good luck in continuing to restore the home to Liberace's original splendor. (Rather hard to do, though, without Liberace's original millions.)
The rest of the photos can be seen on Flickr here, and the video showing the house (as well as Scott Thorson as the Rolls Royce chauffeur) is here:
OMG, Shari, this is amazing. I just can't believe that you were able to walk right in and "make yourself at home." Wow. I don't know which space was my favorite. I love the staircase, I love the reclaimed lumber from a boat as flooring, but I think my fave is the gilded telephone on the marble table next to the sunken tub. Can't you just picture him in a bubble bath on the phone gossiping with some queen after a string of hollywood appearances? Thanks for sharing, this is fantastic!
Posted by: Scott S. | 24 February 2009 at 04:33 AM