For 12 1/2 years, he has entertained patrons with classic songs rendered in a style rich in embellishment and filigree. Tuesday night will be his last; along with about 220 other employees, he is losing his job. No matter. He's expecting a crowd.
The Champagne Bar at the Hotel Bel-Air is dark as a lair. Ice clinks as men and women on caramel-colored leather chairs and forest-green couches imbibe, converse and laugh. A roaring fire blasts light and warmth, which is welcome, despite the heat of a late-summer evening, because the air-conditioned room feels like an ice bucket.
Against a wall, under giant paintings of swans, Antonio Castillo de la Gala -- dapper in a dark suit, striped tie and crisp shirt -- surveys his domain from his perch at a Yamaha baby grand piano. As his hands caress the keys, his bespectacled eyes roam the dark-paneled bar and he nods at the many familiar faces.
Five nights a week for 12 1/2 years, Castillo de la Gala has entertained patrons with classic songs rendered in a style rich in embellishment and filigree.
Think “As Time Goes By," “Someone to Watch Over Me," “The Man I Love." Think Gershwin, Porter, Kern, tangos, Broadway, movies -- all elevated by masterly keyboard technique. This is music to fall in love by, and Castillo de la Gala did. (The hotel provided the swans and a gazebo, but that's getting ahead of the story.)
The lounges of top-tier hotels are a distinct musical niche, a rarefied, murmurous, dimly lit world in which Castillo de la Gala is a highly polished fixture, even a minor legend.
With a 2,000-song repertoire committed to memory, he has amassed a fan base of philanthropists, captains of industry, kings, queens, movie stars and fellow musicians.
Given the venue, it is no surprise that celebrities, musical and otherwise, are frequently in the audience. Castillo de la Gala recites their names with relish; a robust self-regard, tempered by droll self-deprecation, is part of his charm. He has played duets with Phyllis Diller and Billy Joel. Paul McCartney stopped by once and, the pianist reports, was wowed by his arrangement of “Eleanor Rigby."
When Robert Goulet showed up one night, Castillo de la Gala launched into “The Impossible Dream," and Goulet sang along. A few months before his death, the pianist said, Michael Jackson applauded quietly after every song.
“For a boy from Veracruz to come to this country and mingle with such people, it's an amazing life," Castillo de la Gala said.
Tonight, the boy from Veracruz ends his run at the Bel-Air, which is closing for a renovation expected to last two years. Along with about 220 other employees, Castillo de la Gala is losing his job.
No matter. He's expecting a crowd.
