Sing us a song, piano man! -- SFWeekly's Trek into the Tenderloin's Cadillac Hotel
A Cadillac Hotel resident contemplates the $125,000 piano in the lobby. Photo by Joe Eskenazi.
Wandering through the Tenderloin, one constantly feels as if he’s stumbled across the unholy hybrid of a Hieronymus Bosch canvas and a Tom Waits lament.
You’ll see (and smell) any number of things on these wizened streets. But you’d be surprised at what you may hear. That’s why I dropped in at the Cadillac Hotel at 380 Eddy Street in the heart of the ‘Loin and asked to see “the piano.”
The Cadillac is a non-profit Single Room Occupancy (SRO) housed in a 100-year-old former hotel; the stark but clean foyer’s size and airiness hearken to its swankier past. A black and white photo of the edifice with curvy cars and fedora-wearing men in the foreground has been hand-colored with pastels and hangs on the wall.
Today, 158 low-income seniors and former homeless adults reside in the building, said longtime manager Magali Echevarria. And, every so often, one of them enjoyed tickling the ivories on the run-down piano in the corner of the lobby. Sure, it was so out of tune that even a ditty from a player possessing Gershwinesque skills would bring a tear to the eye of the Ayatollah, but it was the thought that counted.
Still, Echevarria was overjoyed when she learned that philanthropist Lee Walkup would be donating a new piano in honor of his deceased sister, Patricia, a community activist.
But it turned out that Walkup didn’t come through on his offer to hand over a new piano. Earlier this month, he sent a used one: A 123-year-old Steinway Concert Grand worth more than $125,000.
“It even has its own humidifier,” said Echevarria, still stunned over the massive gift.
Even to my untrained eyes, the shiny, Indian Rosewood piano struck me as a work of art; it was the most valuable instrument I had touched since being inserted into an MRI machine some years earlier. Standing in front of its 88 keys, I felt like Stanley Kubrik’s ape man gazing at the monolith.
"It even has its own humidifier." Photo by Joe Eskenazi.
Of course, all I could do was stare at the piano. But Paul Hogarth could do more. A staff lawyer at the Tenderloin Housing Clinic (and wicked good pianist), Hogarth told me that taking the piano for a spin was like “Driving Cameron Frye’s Ferrari in 'Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. ’”
And now others can join the fun. Hogarth is helping to organize a series of Friday noontime concerts at the Cadillac and is looking for a few good piano men (and women). The first show will be a week from today and if you can — at the very least — play Für Elise, drop him a line here.
Robert Mathena, an 82-year-old retired chef and 40-year resident at the Cadillac, can’t wait.
“People will like that here. And we’ll get some champagne at the first concert.”
Echevarria quickly shakes her heard. “Oh no. I wouldn’t wait for that champagne, Robert.”
“Oh,” he replies, glumly. Then he brightens up. “Well, I’ll have some in my room.”
--Joe Eskenazi
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