These days, most of our pop stars seem to come pre-printÂed from child-star facÂtoÂries, their looks and sound careÂfulÂly craftÂed for maxÂiÂmum appeal. But every genÂerÂaÂtion has its child stars, espeÂcialÂly since the advent of radio and teleÂviÂsion, and many greats of the past got their start as kids, even if they made their way in a more indiÂvidÂuÂalÂized fashÂion. Elvis made his first pubÂlic appearÂance onstage at a state fair at ten years of age, folÂlowed by a local radio appearÂance when he was twelve. SteÂvie WonÂder made his pubÂlic debut on TV at age twelve, showÂing off his harÂmonÂiÂca skills at the ApolÂlo theÂater and on the Ed SulÂliÂvan Show. And JimÂmy Page—he of YardÂbirds and Led ZepÂpelin fame—first caught the public’s eye as the thirÂteen-year old memÂber of a skifÂfle band on the BBC’s All Your Own in 1957. See the shy, fresh-faced young “James Page” above.
Page disÂcussÂes with the show’s host Huw WhelÂdon not just his musiÂcal ambiÂtions, but his acaÂdÂeÂmÂic ones, specifÂiÂcalÂly his interÂest in findÂing a cure for canÂcer, “if it isn’t covÂered by then.” Page stuck with his bioÂlogÂiÂcal research, for a while, then went to art school for two years. But through it all there was the guiÂtar, his true pasÂsion and life’s work. By 1963, Page was workÂing full time as a sesÂsion guiÂtarist and seemed eager to disÂcuss his new career in the recentÂly re-disÂcovÂered teleÂviÂsion interÂview above. It was at this point, as he recountÂed to jourÂnalÂist Steven Rosen in 1977, that he reached a “crossÂroads,” as he called it: “is it an art career or is it going to be music?”
Page obviÂousÂly sortÂed out it out quickÂly. He may not have cured canÂcer, but he did re-invent rock and roll. Last year saw the pubÂliÂcaÂtion of JimÂmy Page by JimÂmy Page, a 512-page autoÂbiÂogÂraÂphy in phoÂtographs, each one choÂsen by Page himÂself. His earÂly teenage skifÂfle and sesÂsion years are covÂered, all the way through his 2012 recepÂtion at the White House, and everyÂthing in-between. In NovemÂber of 2014, Page sat down with superÂstar pop artist Jeff Koons at New York’s 92nd Street Y to disÂcuss the book and his lifeÂlong love of the guiÂtar, includÂing that “very embarÂrassÂing” 1957 TV appearÂance. “When you’ve had a whole lifeÂtime full of music,” Page says, “there are cerÂtain things that sort of come up and haunt you, and that is one of them… but it’s got a charm about it.” Indeed it does, and there are cerÂtainÂly worse things that could haunt an artist of Page’s stature. See Page and Koons’ full conÂverÂsaÂtion above, and watch Page disÂcuss his “autoÂbiÂogÂraÂphy with phoÂtographs” below.
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
JimÂmy Page and Robert Plant Reunite in ExotÂic MarÂrakesh, 1994
Josh Jones is a writer and musiÂcian based in Durham, NC. FolÂlow him at @jdmagness
Thanks for sharÂing this. I’m curÂrentÂly workÂing on the f# minor nocÂturne! they’re beauÂtiÂful pieces. Afte comÂpleÂtion of this, I would go for guiÂtar lessons.
Don’t get me wrong, you have to be strong and conÂfiÂdent to be sucÂcessÂful in just about anyÂthing you do – but with music, there’s a deepÂer emoÂtionÂal comÂpoÂnent to your failÂures and sucÂcessÂes. If you fail a chemÂistry test, it’s because you either didn’t study enough, or just aren’t that good at chemÂistry (the latÂter of which is totalÂly underÂstandÂable). But if you fail at music, it can say someÂthing about your charÂacÂter. It could be because you didn’t pracÂtice enough – but, more terÂriÂfyÂingÂly, it could be because you aren’t resilient enough. MasÂterÂing chemÂistry requires diliÂgence and smarts, but masÂterÂing a piano piece requires diliÂgence and smarts, plus creÂativÂiÂty, plus the immense capacÂiÂty to both overÂcome emoÂtionÂal hurÂdles, and, simulÂtaÂneÂousÂly, to use that emoÂtionÂal comÂpoÂnent to bring the music alive.
Before I startÂed takÂing piano, I had always imagÂined the ConÂserÂvaÂtoÂry stuÂdents to have it so good – I mean, for their homeÂwork, they get to play guiÂtar, or jam on their saxÂoÂphone, or sing songs! What fun! ComÂpared to sitÂting in lab for four hours studyÂing the optiÂcal propÂerÂties of minÂerÂals, or disÂcussing LucretÂian theÂoÂries of democÂraÂcy and polÂiÂtics, I would play piano any day.
But after almost three years of piano at Orpheus AcadÂeÂmy, I underÂstand just how naĂŻve this is. PlayÂing music for credÂit is not “easy” or “fun” or “magÂiÂcal” or “lucky.” MostÂly, it’s realÂly freakin’ hard. It requires you to pick apart your piece, play every litÂtle segÂment over and over, disÂsect it, tinÂker with it, cry over it, feel comÂpleteÂly lame about it, then get over yourÂself and start pracÂticÂing again. You have to be preÂcise and diliÂgent, creÂative and robotÂic. And then – after all of this – you have to re-disÂcovÂer the emoÂtionÂal beauÂty in the piece, and use it in your perÂforÂmance.