Atop the Carillon, a chance to ring the bells, savor the view

Growing up, Larry Robinson yearned to be an elevator man, just like the guys operating the lifts in the old-style department stores he loved as a child.

He fulfilled that dream -- sort of.

The other day, he took me on a tour of where he works, and to get there we climbed aboard a 1931 elevator. He pulled the gate closed, twisted the handle and up we went -- to the seventh floor of the Carillon tower at Byrd Park, his perch high above Richmond where, to put it in simplest terms, he plays the bells.

Officially, he is Richmond's city carillonneur.

"It just means I'm the city ding-a-ling," Robinson said with a laugh.

If you happened to be passing by Byrd Park around 3:15 Wednesday afternoon and thought you heard the melody of "America the Beautiful" chiming in the distance, you did. That was Larry practicing.

He has been ringing the bells of the Carillon since 1960. He plays several times a year, usually for patriotic occasions, which is appropriate since the 240-foot tower was built as a World War I memorial. His big show every year is the Fourth of July celebration at Dogwood Dell. Tomorrow, at 6:30 p.m., he'll play a half-hour concert of "God Bless America," "The Star-Spangled Banner" and other patriotic songs. The Richmond Concert Band will perform at 7 p.m.

The program culminates with the "1812 Overture," complete with blasting Howitzers borrowed from Fort Lee and Robinson ringing the Carillon bells. When the fireworks start, Robinson will hustle up to the tower's eighthfloor balcony for an eye-level view of the exploding fireworks.

"Nobody sees them the way I see them," he said.

Did I mention that no matter how hot it is on the ground, there always seems to be a refreshing breeze at the top of the tower?

Robinson is a professor emeritus of music at Virginia Commonwealth University, where he taught organ and piano. The carillon is a keyboard instrument, too, but it's not your typical keyboard instrument.

Called a clavier, the carillon's keyboard is stationed on a wooden platform. Robinson sits on a bench and, wearing workout gloves to keep from getting blisters, raps the keyboard's wooden keys that control cables attached to the clappers of the carillon's 53 bells. Foot pedals also move the clappers.

The bronze bells, secured to steel girders in the chamber above the clavier, are arranged in order of size, and range in weight from 12 to an astounding 11,200 pounds. Playing the clavier requires strength and touch, but that's the beauty of it. The clavier might look -- as Robinson describes it -- like "a big, clunky machine," but it has the subtleties of a delicate instrument.

"If I hit it hard, it's going to be loud; if I hit it easy, it's going to be softer," Robinson said. "It's like a piano in the sense you can get all of this expressive control."

Plus, it's rewarding to play an instrument few others do, he said.

Next year, Robinson will celebrate his 50th anniversary of playing the bells. He has considered retiring after that, but now he's not so sure. He might keep playing if he feels up to it.

A few possible successors wait in the wings, so he's comforted to know if he retires, he wouldn't leave the bells "orphaned," as he put it.

Let's review:

Singular view, cool breeze and the delightful rush of performing music that resounds across the countryside, or at least in the area surrounding the Carillon tower.

"Great fun," Robinson said.

Contact Bill Lohmann at (804) 649-6639 or .