Jane Rollason - Amazing Performers - B1

I was invited to write a piece of music for the United Nations. It was first performed at the General Assembly in 1971, and I was the conductor. I was 95 years old! The UN awarded me their Peace Medal, and I spoke about my country. I told them I was Catalan, and that the world’s first democratic parliament met in Catalonia. In my speech, I attacked Franco and his men, who had taken Spain’s rights away.

Franco was still in control of Spain, and sadly he lived two years longer than me. Two years after my UN performance, in 1973, I died of old age at home in Puerto Rico. I did not live to see Spain become free again. I was very sad that war had driven me from the land of my birth. But I was very happy, and lucky, because I had loved and played music for more than 90 years.

The Life of Pablo Casals

1901–1971

the American trumpet-player and singer

I was not born into a wonderful world. I grew up in a poor area of New Orleans, where life was tough for young African-American boys. But music saved me, and showed me that the world really was wonderful.

I was born in 1901 in New Orleans, Louisiana, in the Deep South of the United States. Two years later, soon after my little sister was born, my father left the family. My mother didn’t want to look after us on her own, so my sister and I went to live with Grandma Josephine. Although we had no toys, no shoes and very little food, my grandmother always sent us to school and to church.

When I was five, my mother returned and we lived with her. It wasn’t a real home though, and I was often on the streets. I needed to earn money to buy food for my mother and sister, so I found a job delivering newspapers. But I started getting into trouble too. New Orleans was a tough city, and you had to join a street gang to survive. One of my jobs as a young member of the gang was to take messages, while another person was watching for enemy gangs outside clubs. I liked standing outside the clubs, because I could hear the music inside. Ragtime music was very popular then.

I found a job with a Jewish family from Russia. Their name was Karnofsky, and they used to buy and sell old furniture and other household things on the streets. Mr Karnofsky was very kind to me, and often invited me to stay in their house. Later, he also lent me enough money to buy a cornet, which is a kind of trumpet. He taught me how to live – to expect the best from people and myself, and to work hard.

I left school when I was 11 and joined a singing group of four boys. We earned a few dollars, singing the latest songs on street corners, and people seemed to like my voice. The other boys called me ‘Satchel Mouth’ because I had such a wide open mouth (a ‘satchel’ is a kind of school bag with a wide opening). Also, I learned to play some simple songs because some of the musicians in the clubs were kind to me and gave me music lessons.

Because of the area where I lived, I was often in trouble with the police. One New Year’s Eve, when I was 11, I fired a gun into the air in the street. The police caught me, and sent me to the New Orleans Home for Colored Waifs, a home for young African-American boys who had been in trouble with the police. It was really a prison for children. I lived there for 18 months.