On A Dark Corner

On a quiet Saturday night far from my beloved city, I listen to the magic of music, and my mind is quickly flooded with remembered emotions and memories by a selection on Apple Music.

I am listening to “ Pavane for a Dead Princess” a selection from James Galway’s album WINGS OF SONG.

Sir James Galway OBE is an Irish virtuoso player from Belfast, nicknamed "The Man with the Golden Flute."

The pavane was a slow processional dance that enjoyed great popularity in the courts of Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Sir Galway’s rendition allows my return, not to a court in Europe, but to the Gothic Room in the Hotel Duane, a small hideaway once known primarily to college students in NYC.

The Gothic Room in the Hotel Duane was small and secluded. It sat on the insignificant corner of 38th Street and Madison Avenue in midtown Manhattan.

The dark room embraced several dozen tables for two, all tightly tucked into a semi circle around a circular dance floor.

Sitting on a small stage above the circle of dancers, a three piece band accompanied a beautiful blonde singer always garbed in a shimmering black satin gown.

The well known spot on Madison Avenue was famed as an oasis for young lovers who lived and embraced during the years when courtship was not a public statement nor an internet declaration.

Sir Galway’s rendition tonight allows me to return to that time and place as I travel on the magic carpet his flute weaves for those who remember yesterdays.

The darkness of the Gothic Room appeared to endorse promises of love wrapped tightly in a voluminous cloak of music for all who shared a dance.

Few, if any, of the young couples in the crowded room recognized each others faces nor did they ever wear IDs. We didn’t know each other’s names, nor were we neighbors. We traveled weekly to the Gothic Room to be with a loved one where we could confide promises to love forever.

We arrived by buses and trains, and possibly a few taxi cabs. Few young adults during that era had automobiles in our crowded city. Even fewer had luxurious homes permitting any privacy for embraces, commitments or promises.

Darkened hallways were never a comfort zone for young love, but one of the few options available.

Some paths may have crossed in college corridors or on subways. However, the only thing the several dozen young couples shared on Saturday night in the Hotel Duane was the privilege and innocence of young love and the companion of youthful passion.

We didn’t come to meet others; our partners had already been chosen. All that was needed was an oasis for that declaration to promise to love forever.

As the sound of Pavane softly lingers, I recall not only The Gothic Room, but the embrace of darkness when we made those promises and swayed to music heard Saturday night on a dark corner of Manhattan.

And for most of us, those promises all came true.