This is Love: The George Harrison Club for Fiendish Thingies | Page 18 | Fab Forum | The Beatles Bible

Dhaily Dhani- I know parlance has already posted some photos of Stella’s event and I decided to post some more because I can so without further adieu:

^ I’ve been expecting you Mister Bond

Looking good Dhannerz

Dhani’s band performed Stella’s favourite song and ‘Live And Let Die ‘- I really want to hear Dhani sing LALD!

Indeed, maybe they were a very mature celebrity-only audience who don’t want to share with the plebeians some Dhani Harrison, I hate them all   

Welcome aboard, @Beatlemaniac24 . So, you have a guitar named Arthur? You will fit right in.

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I bet you’re all excited for the forum Christmas present. Don’t be. It’s nothing extravagant. I have decided to translate as much of Klaus Voormann’s prologue to his book “Warum spielst du Imagine nicht auf dem weissen Klavier John?” into English before the night is over. Here is the first page and a paragraph. Now why is this in the George section you say? George features a lot in it after this section and because I can put whatever I want wherever I want *blows raspberry*. Pardon the stilted sentences/weird phrases German is such an awkward language! Parts of it were untranslatable so I left them out but they didn’t add anything to the overall story

Why don’t you play Imagine on the white piano John?

By Klaus Voormann

I was on the way to see George

He had called us suddenly two days ago. “We’re in Stanglwirt in Tirol, do you want to come over?” It was really no problem, to visit him in Tirol as Stranglwirt was located in Going and that was just two hours in the car from our former home in Holzkirchen. So off we went.

I hadn’t seen George in a long time, only a few phone calls and that was only began in 1991 when he started making contact again, before that there was a long period of no talking but that didn’t make anything. George and I were like friends that hadn’t seen or heard from one another in a long time yet still felt very close. I felt a deep affection and admiration for the four Beatles ever since I met them and I can honestly say that conscience developed this feeling over many years or even decades to a deep friendship.

John was for me always the sensible rebel, whose cynical and rowdy appearance was nothing more than an invisibility clock to guard his injured soul. John knew modesty. He thought he knew what everything on this world was. He saw through the inhumane business practices of the industry and fought until the very end as the Bitch of Rock ‘n’ Roll against the hard hitting and inhuman mechanisms.  

Paul, however, still seduces with his distinctive charm, his boyish charisma even today. Whenever Paul appears, awe arrives. I have observed it over the years and practically when we shared the stage together in the Royal Albert Hall for the ‘Concert for George’. Paul came onto the stage and leaves everyone else in the shade. He is simply “there”. He completely fills the room. But I believe, he knows that too and enjoys it!

Ringo, ah Ringo. He is for me one of the best and most precise drummers but an unbelievably good and lovely person with a massive heart that beats warm and vigorously. When I see Ringo, I just want to hug him. I think about my first exhibition in Los Angeles, where he stood behind me and loudly declared that he felt my pictures were overpriced. I found that very embarrassing.

Ringo often felt he was the fifth wheel. Everything revolved around John and Paul, then lagging behind was George and somewhere there was the small, big-eyed Ringo. I believe he was underestimated in many respects. Yet as an actor he was the best in the Beatles and I didn’t begrudge him at all!

Final one for tonight lads. There are some shall we say “interesting” word choices picked by Klaus (I swear to God I did not change any of them, deliberately they are described here the way they are described in German). 

When we listened to the tape we were almost all on the floor laughing. We played it over and over again. I then rang him immediately, I knew only too well that he could wind himself up with worry and would probably have sent out a search team after me.

 I wish I hadn’t erased that tape, it would have been a funny yet a typical memory of him.

I approached the Austrian border. I knew that it was only thirty minutes to Goring and I was wondering why George and Olivia had driven past Tirol. Then I remember their friend Gerhard Berger and that the junior Harrison was in a relationship with Berger’s daughter. (ASJ Note: *frowns*) As I went into the hotel cark park, I saw George already at the window in the first floor. He was always a curious guy and now wanted to see what smart Klaus looked like as a grandfather.

Shortly before George’s invitation, I had to go to London to Apple where I met the manager Neil Aspinall. Laughing he told me that George had recently pestered him, asking him if whether my hair had turned grey, whether I was, whether I still had real teeth. George wanted to know.

I had to smile when George threw open the window.

“What are you doing there?” he cried with a Prussian gesture,

“Aha” I thought “quite Admiral von Hohenstein”.

I got out of the car and went to go to the reception.

“Klaus, go up the steps on the write. That is the shorter way then you don’t have to go through the reception. I took his advice and soon found myself at the door of the Harrison abode. I knocked and from inside came George’s voice. This time he didn’t play as Admiral van Hohenstein, but Mrs. Harrison.

“Yes please who is that?”

“Here is Klaus Voormann, I had an invitation from Mr. Harrison.”

“No that isn’t right. First the password” purred George alias Mrs. Harrison (ASJ Note: I swear to God , I didn’t make it up that he “purred”. What a creepy mental image, I tell you!”)

“Formula 1, Gerhard Berger” I answer and then the door opened. Seconds later we were hugging each other. He looked at me for a long time. (ASJ Note: And then they kissed- no I’m kidding but still Klaus’s descriptions are very interesting)

“Damn you look good” he said. (ASJ Note: Holy Sweet Jesus)

The next hug followed.

He felt somewhat chubby (ASJ Note: I can’t no, just no), the good George and he looked like a good-natured old man with his lamb-wool slippers, the green chord trousers, a lamb’s wool vest and the anthracite simple jumper. We went into a newly built building down a long winding corridor. George’s apartment was not particularly big but very cosy. It consisted of natural wood furniture made by local carpenters and everywhere there were wool blankets and pillows. In Dhani’s room there were countless graphic utensils as well as many sketches and drawings which he later showed me proudly. The guy really had talent.  We sat in the living room and drank tea.