[gentle orchestral fanfare]

[resonant strings lead
building orchestration]

(male narrator)
Welcome to "Our State,"

a production of UNC-TV

in association
with "Our State" magazine--

for over 75 years

bringing readers
the wonders of North Carolina.

On this edition,

Asheville's Grovewood Gallery

continues a long tradition
of craftsmanship...

[bright tune]

we'll meet
the long-time tree surgeon

of UNC-Chapel Hill...

and a third-generation family
business finds itself

not just restoring pianos
but also preserving memories.

[gentle piano melody]

(male announcer)
Since 1872,

BB&T has been supporting
the people and communities

of North Carolina.

From our small-town roots

to the banking network
you see today,

we've always been here
for all our clients,

stretching from Manteo...
to Murphy.

We're proud of our heritage

as the oldest bank
in North Carolina,

and we're very proud
to provide funding

for "Our State."

Quality public television
is made possible

through the financial
contributions

of viewers like you,

who invite you to join them
in supporting UNC-TV.

[gentle wooden flute melody]

(narrator)
It's amazing
how some things change

and yet remain the same.

What began
as a wealthy patron's desire

to perpetuate mountain crafts

and lift up the people
who made them

has, in just over
a hundred years,

blossomed into one
of our state's and America's

most well-regarded
craft stores.

Here, in Asheville's
Grovewood Gallery,

you'll find work for sale

by more than 450
carefully chosen artists,

including some in residence...

just as their predecessors did
in these buildings

beginning more
than a hundred years ago.

[bouncy piano tune]

During the late 1890s,

on the doorstep
of a vigorous new century,

Edith Vanderbilt, wife of
George Washington Vanderbilt,

the progressive son
of New York industrialist

Cornelius Vanderbilt,

decided to help
the youth of a village

that had been established
just outside the gates

of their expansive
Biltmore Estate.

The fruit
of that small beginning

became Biltmore Estate
Industries in 1901.

The business grew,
including woodworking

and the spinning and weaving

of locally sourced wool
into cloth.

After the death
of George Vanderbilt in 1912,

architect and builder
Fred Seely

purchased the business
and moved it

to seven
English-style cottages

next to his father-in-law's
new Grove Park Inn,

giving birth
to Biltmore Industries,

which proved to be

an extraordinarily
beneficial move.

Grove Park Inn,
they advertised it

as the finest resort hotel
in the world,

so he did get
rich and famous people

to come to Asheville.

I tell people, anytime anybody
got their picture in the paper

over three times
in a good light,

he wanted to make sure
they had Homespun on 'em,

and he was very successful.

(narrator)
"Homespun" was the brand name

Seely chose
for his new venture,

and he was a master
at spreading it around.

(Ball)
When they would come
to Grove Park Inn,

Fred Seely would make sure
he made a--

made their way over
to his little factory here

to see the cloth bein' made,
and of course,

most of those folks
were fascinated by it.

And when they left,

he made sure
they had some cloth,

and then his next
advertisement would be,

"Henry Ford wears Homespun.

"Thomas Edison
wears Homespun.

"President whoever--
Wilson, Hoover, Coolidge

wears Homespun."

(narrator)
After Fred Seely's death
in 1942,

the textile business declined.

Enter the scene
local automobile dealer

and entrepreneur
Harry Blomberg,

who, according
to his daughters,

never turned down
a good real estate deal.

He was always
buying--

He got a good deal.

But he was always
buying property.

He always said,
"They're not making
any more land.

He said "God is not
making any more land,"

so he bought all--

bought property
every opportunity he got.

He didn't sell it;
he just bought it.

(Ball)
Harry kept the weaving going
up until '81.

He ran this--these buildings
as the Homespun Shops,

which became
a very popular place.

(narrator)
An antique car museum
was added in 1965.

I do love
this car.

[sparse guitar melody]

Fifty-three
thousand miles.

(Blomberg)
Oh my God.

(woman)
Harry Blomberg
passed away in 1991,

so his two daughters,
Marilyn and Babs,

and Marilyn's husband
Buddy Patton

were left with the businesses
to--to run.

(narrator)
So they started renovating,

eventually changing
the name of their business

to Grovewood Gallery

and began renting spaces
to artists.

And it's to the--

the Pattons' credit

that they've kept it alive

in the very space

that got it started
in the beginning.

(narrator)
Chris spent his early years
near Asheville

and remembers seeing

Harry Blomberg's business
in operation.

And I'll never forget
going into the, uh--

what's now the antique car
museum, which was--

they had 40 looms running
in there at that time,

and the sound of those looms
going simultaneously

was just incredible.

Beautiful, beautiful work
that they were doing.

Kind of opened my eyes
a little bit

to hear these guys,

and they just sit here
all day,

but look what they get
at the end of it

and what they were able
to produce.

(woman)
Chris cares a lot

about the history

of, um, Asheville

and the area, and he--

he saw himself
fitting in here,

and he definitely does.

(narrator)
Chris creates lovely,
high-end wooden flutes

in his Grovewood studio,

instruments
in demand worldwide

for their dark, rich tone.

He uses African blackwood
and other rare woods,

which he ages for ten years.

Abell Flute head-joints,
part sterling silver,

are carefully finished
and voiced,

assuring that each instrument

has that distinctive
"Abell" sound.

[gentle melody]

This is Kate Steinbeck,
Chris's wife,

whom we could
listen to all day

should time allow.

Carl Powell
makes glass art,

stunningly layered
stained glass windows

for both residences
and public buildings

and laminated glass sculptures
with striking bevels

and intricate
engraved patterns

that seem to float
inside the form

and change their perspective

depending on the angle
from which you view them.

(man)
I was very, very influenced

by the constructivist
painters like Paul Klee, uh,

Kandinsky, uh.

Marc Chagall was
a big influence also, uh.

In fact, when I see
a Kandinsky painting,

I think of stained glass,
and I always have

since I've been around
stained glass.

(Masters)
Carl's work
is very contemporary.

He's come up on his own
with several techniques

to create his own style,

and you know Carl Powell's
work when you see it.

It's very distinctive.

(Powell)
It's been a great place
to--to have a studio,

a beautiful setting.

You get to bring your dog
to work every day,

and of course,
it's nice being next door

to the Grove Park Inn

and get some
of that traffic through here.

So here I am--
heh, heh.

(woman)
We love metalsmithing,

but we also--
we love crafting.

We like to make things
with our hands,

and that's one thing
about these buildings,

is they have that feeling

that there's been
a lot of making--

a lot of craft.

(Masters)
Kathleen and Tom have to know
the different properties.

I mean they work with silver,
gold, pewter, bronze, um...

copper, pearls, diamonds.

They work with so many
different materials,

and they have
a very broad knowledge

of everything in metals.

Their work is substantial.

It has a lot
of design to it.

(narrator)
The process
they use to reproduce

a finished piece of jewelry
is fascinating and complex.

First they create a mold,

then a wax model,

followed by casting
and finishing.

[soft marimba arrangement]

And finally, they end up
with a piece of art.

Not every artist
is a fit for Grovewood,

either for studio
consideration

or representation
in the gallery.

Their work has to match
the gallery's look and feel,

price points,
and professionalism.

(Masters)
We only represent work
from the United States,

and our mission really is
to show that to our visitors,

to show them what artists
make in this country

that really is
professionally done

and--and, um,
also affordable,

that people
can live with and enjoy.

Another mission is to just
make our visitors feel good

when they come here,

to make them welcome
and feel at home here

because it's a warm and--
and inviting space.

(narrator)
Twenty-six thousand visitors
a year would likely agree,

and we'd like to think

that the many people
who helped create and build

what has become Grovewood
Gallery over the years

would as well...
were they here to see

what has become
of the seeds they planted.

Oh, look,
isn't that
beautiful?

Gosh!
Just look!

[chainsaw]
buzzing

[tender, undulating
marimba melody]

(narrator)
There's something compelling
about Carolina blue...

if you're a Carolina fan,

but there's also another
color closely identified

with the University of
North Carolina at Chapel Hill:

green.

Not the green

associated with
environmental conservation,

the green that overarches
the 729-acre campus:

trees.

UNC's landscaping
has been an integral part

of the university's identity

since founder
William Richardson Davie

and a committee from Raleigh
chose the spot

and since the first students

took shortcuts
across the quadrangle in 1795

to get
where they wanted to go.

The university's
setting was selected

for maximum effect,
planned and groomed over time.

It was centrally located

on a hilltop
with an expansive view

where an old chapel had stood,
tucked comfortably

into a richly diverse
deciduous forest

whose lush remnants remain
part of the campus today.

[strings lead
rich arrangement]

But have you ever wondered
how all this magnificence,

this richly endowed landscape,
is maintained?

Surely not by students
in their spare time

and certainly
not by one man,

although you might
easily think so,

considering
the near-legendary status

of the campus tree surgeon,
William "Bus" Hubbard.

Whether you've been
at Carolina only a semester

or for most of a lifetime,
you know who Bus is,

even if not by name.

He's the old guy
up in the trees.

[harp flourish]

It's shortly after 7 a.m.,
and Bus is ready for work

after his typical
Spartan breakfast.

I don't eat but one thing.

I'll drink a glass
o' orange juice

and work a half a day.

I don't eat
no breakfast.

I bet you I ain't eat
no breakfast in 40 years.

(male interviewer)
How do you do that?

I don't know;
that's just my habit,

my habit, my habit...
my habit.

I get the--my wife buy
them little orange juice,

'bout that high,

and I reach and get
one o' them; I'm full!

(narrator)
You'd think he mighta
slowed down by now,

but at age 78,
when most men's work life

is just a memory,
Bus Hubbard is still at it,

preparing to trim
a large, storm-damaged limb

from this tree.

If you've ever handled
a chain saw,

especially
a big one like this,

you know
that it's no easy job.

It takes strength,
a lot of it,

and plenty of patience...
plus endurance,

something you'd expect
more of a man in his 30s

than one knocking
on the door of 80.

[chainsaw sputtering]

We had, um,
a physical, um.

This is 20 years ago now,

and I can remember
going in after Bus

to get my physical.

And he said,
my goodness, Kirk.

He said, that man has the body
of an Olympic athlete.

(narrator)
Could it be
the mayonnaise sandwiches

he's had for lunch
for the last 40 years...

or perhaps the beans he gets
for supper most nights?

No meat, so it must be
all that hard work

and a positive attitude.

Here's a guy who, you know,

started as a...
humble grounds worker

and, I think,
really understands

the mission
of the whole place.

He may not be
a Carolina basketball fan,

but he loves Carolina,

and he knows
what this place is about,

and he knows that the trees

and the beauty of the place
add to it,

and he knows
that he's part of that.

It's--it's hard work.

It's his dedication,
and it's his spirit

of just...being the best
that he can be.

(narrator)
An attitude
that was apparent early on

when the boss needed somebody
from the landscaping crew

to work in the trees.

The boss man come in
with a tree climber...

and I started--he wanted--
they wanted somebody to climb,

and I started with him,
going out.

Me and him'd go out
half a day,

and he'd go up in the tree,
and he'd sit there and wait.

He'd sit there and wait on me
to walk all out on the limbs,

and everyone just--

Go out every half a day--

that's the only way
I learned it.

(narrator)
Back then, work was tough,
and wages were sparse.

Twenty five cents an hour--
that's when I started.

He has been here
for every graduation,

58 years.

He's been here
for every special event.

He's been here
for every snowfall.

He's always here.

[chainsaw buzzing]

(narrator)
If working
can be seen as art,

Bus Hubbard is a master.

Like a fine artist,
he knows his tools...

and his trees.

This job's almost done.

Just a gentle push...

[limb thudding]

and the limb's final section
falls to the ground.

[high strings introduce
tender arrangement]

As spring rolls into summer
and then back into fall,

the Carolina landscape
changes character

with the seasons,

and who's to say one is more
beautiful than the other.

The whole effect is calming,

as a walk from classroom
to dorm ought to be,

given the challenges
of college life.

And looming
over the students

as if chaperoning them
to class

stands UNC's
revered Davie Poplar.

Bus knows the 300-
to 400-year-old-tree

like an old friend.

It looks like
it would just bust right down,

but it's holdin' on,
I'll tell you that.

(narrator)
As long
as this big, misshapen,

lighting-struck
tulip poplar stands,

legend says that
the university will thrive.

Should anything happen
to the old tree,

practically
an unimaginable event,

Davie Poplar Jr.
and Davie Poplar III

are growing nearby,

planted in 1918 and 1993

from the older tree's seeds.

But what happens when...
or if...Bus finally retires?

The university's trees

will continue
to spread their limbs.

Storms will do their best
to undo all of his good work,

and spring
will come to campus

as surely
as a new crop of students

plans on showing up
at the end of summer.

And who knows?

Perhaps
some burly young newcomer

with a gold standard
work ethic

will show up just in time,

ready to shoulder the task
for another 60 or so years

once the big man's days
at Carolina are done.

But then again,

it very well
could take two of 'em

to do this one man's job,

just like those two
younger Davie Poplars

waiting in the wings.

[soft piano
melody]

[clattering]

(narrator)
This is one
of the lucky ones...

among thousands
of worn-out, old pianos

that either get junked
every year in our country...

or chosen for restoration.

For these fortunate ones,

here is where hope begins

thanks to a family
of piano repairmen

with the unlikely name
of Kluttz.

But the truth

is that this third-generation
Salisbury business

almost never got off
the ground at all...

save for a steam engine...
that looked a lot like this.

[bouncy piano chords]

(older man)
My father worked
for the railroad.

He was conductor
on a train, and, uh...

[ominous piano chord]

(man)
My grandfather
was in a bad train wreck

and got burnt.

With the little bit of money

that they might have paid him

for his injuries,

his brother talked him
into buyin' a couple

used, old upright pianos
to fix up and sell.

In the '30s and '40s,
they would load two uprights

on a pickup truck
and take off.

(older man)
A lot of times,
they'd go

to the
eastern part
of the state,

tobacco country.

(Jonathan)
Just doin' cold sales,
knockin' on doors and sayin',

"Would you be
interested in a piano?"

The way they tell me,
it was,

"Oh, no,
we don't need a piano."

"Keep it for a week or two,
and we'll be back.

If you're not interested,
no cost, we'll pick it up."

Most of the time, they would
end up fallin' in love

or somebody would play it
enough to wanna keep it.

So that's how
they kinda got their start,

and it kept goin',
kept growin',

and my dad and my uncle
inherited the business.

It's been passed on now
for three generations

to a cousin and to me.

For the most part,
when we get a piano in

to restore,
it's at a condition

where it's either fix it
or get rid of it.

[bouncy chords conclude]

Most of the time,

it's the sentimental
attachment,

the family heirloom.

A piano that coulda been--

just as my business is two
or three, four generations,

that piano
might stretch back three,

and they wanna pass it on

for another two
or three forward,

so you can have literally
four or five, six generations

ownin' one instrument.

(narrator)
When you've been
working together

as long
as these men have,

Ray Kluttz in front,
son Jonathan on the right,

and nephew Paul on the left,

you eventually fall into
a natural, practical rhythm.

(Jonathan)
I came here;
I was mowin' the yard

when I was eight or nine,
sweepin' floors,

doin' whatever needed
to be done.

I just grew up
in the business.

[tender piano melody]

(narrator)
Paul's been here since
he was born, basically, too.

[sander humming]

One of our weaknesses,
the other one has a strength

that can overcome
that weakness.

I wanna be on the road

or out with people
or sellin' or--

or just tearin'
somethin' apart,

whereas Paul has the patience,
I have none.

He can do the--

the tedious things
that I can't do.

I don't know
where I got my personality.

It wasn't from dad,
that's for sure,

'cause he's quiet.

He's a talker
more than I am.

Sometimes,
he talks too much.

[raspy
laughter]

Aw, jeez!

[playing scale]

(narrator)
Each of the 88 keys
is connected

to an intricate array
of piano action parts,

more than 50 of them
per note.

They have names like hammer,
damper, knuckle, and wippen,

and all must be
perfectly mated

if the note
is to play correctly.

[animated piano melody]

(man)
No two pianos
really play the same

or sound the same.

Each one has its own tone,
its own feel to the keys.

(narrator)
The old Steinway
now in the shop

is on its way to getting
a new set of strings,

around 230 of them.

(man #2)
They each have from 195
to 200 inch-pounds

of torque tension
per string.

All of it totaled
together is something

over 30,000 foot-pounds.

I don't see what keeps it

from folding up
like an accordion.

(narrator)
Piano restoration
also includes steps

as ageless as sanding

and then refinishing
piano cabinet components,

the furniture part...

like these massive legs
undergoing restoration

before being reunited

with the rest
of the instrument.

(Jonathan)
Every piano that we get in

usually has some kind
of storyline with it.

(narrator)
This square grand
was in pretty tough shape.

In normal circumstances,

its next step
likely would be the dump.

But then, there's
all that fascinating

Civil War history

that the owner
began talking about.

(Jonathan)
She was telling me
that when Sherman

was marchin' up
from Fayetteville,

he was meeting armies
comin' out of New Bern.

They would just come through
and slash and burn,

and they would
just take your stuff,

put it in a pile,
and burn it.

When they came
into the home,

one of the colonels
or one of the generals

saw a Masonic emblem
and told the soldiers,

"When we leave here,
don't destroy this farm.

He's a brother Mason."

(narrator)
This piano
may not have been burned,

but as time went on,
six generations of heat,

humidity, and critters
did their best

to nearly rid the thing
of its usefulness.

So what we'll do is come in,
replace the bad wood,

and then it'll be patched in
with a rosewood veneer,

and then, of course,
on top of that,

we will have
the moldin' back around it,

so everything
will be pieced back together.

And then, when we started
takin' it apart, you know,

just pullin' the guts
out of it and everything,

we literally got
about five gallons of pecans

that the rodents
might have stored in it.

(Paul)
Yeah, the, uh--the years
weren't good to this piano.

Anything on here broke,
you have to make by hand.

You can't look
in the catalog and order it.

(Jonathan)
But Pa found
on this key here--

it's dated May
the 16th, 1858.

This gentleman
may have signed all his work

when he created a new piano,
so it wasn't that old a piano

when it was threatened
to be burned

when Sherman marched through
and they spared the farm.

But we are
sellin', um,

pecans
by the pound

'to help offset the cost
that we're havin' here--

heh, heh, heh!

(narrator)
Pianos, like their owners,

have distinct personalities,

and the Kluttzes approach
the restoration of each one

with a respect
bordering on reverence...

clearly acknowledging
the work of the craftsmen

who came before them.

It's almost like
there's an unwritten pact

between the generations
to make these instruments

as new and perfect
as possible.

(Jonathan)
The last time
when that screw was touched

is when somebody in 1908
put the screw in the piano

to put it together,

and then
we touch it in 2011.

We want it to be exactly
how it was meant to be

when it was manufactured.

That's what our goal is.

While I enjoy the process
of pickin' 'em up

and dealin' with 'em
on that end,

the fun end
is on the reverse end

when you're takin' it back

and the process
has been completed.

The piano's been restored.

(narrator)
The grand being delivered
to this lucky couple

today in Charlotte
is a Chickering.

Can you handle
that turn, Ray?

(narrator)
A venerable, old,
American-made instrument--

in fact,
a grandma's piano.

A grandma's piano
is made of memories,

harkening back
to a different time.

(Jonathan, strenuously)
Ohh! Aggh!

(narrator)
When family entertainment

centered for the most part
around the piano,

so much so
that it was hard to imagine

an early-20th-century home
without one.

[tender piano melody]

For sentimental
reasons,

I wanted the piano

no matter what

'cause that's what I remember
my mother playin'

by how nice
it's restored, like this.

(Jonathan)
I was just tellin' her,
these are the same ivories

that her
great-grandmother,

her great-aunt,
her mother,

and now she's
touchin' 'em.

By doin' what we do,
we're sorta extendin'

the life
of the instrument.

We're extendin'
the gift of music

so it can be passed on
to another generation.

[tune concludes]

[tender, flowing melody]

(narrator)
Well, you may
have guessed by now

that the story
we're telling here

is really more
about family than pianos.

The family in the business

and the family
of customers they serve,

people who might not
be able to have

their precious heirloom
restored at all

were it not
for Kluttz Piano Company

and their eagerness to take on
even the most challenging

of these old instruments.

(Ray)
Yeah, we have a lot
around there

that are
in pretty bad shape,

we fix up
'cause it's our love...

love of pianos.

[gentle, rising notes]

[strings lead piano and harp
in rich arrangement]

[oboe leads]

[Beethoven's Piano Sonata in
C minor, Op. 13, "Pathetique"]

Caption Editors
Erin Gibbs & Will Halman

Caption Perfect, Inc.
www.CaptionPerfect.com

(announcer)
To subscribe
to "Our State" magazine,

visit the Web site
ourstate.com or call...

[strings support
gentle piano melody]

From the time BB&T
opened its doors in 1872

in the town of Wilson,

we've supported
the people and communities

of North Carolina

from the Outer Banks
to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

We've been in business
for 136 years,

making us the oldest bank
in North Carolina.

We're proud
of this distinction,

and we're also very proud

to provide funding
for "Our State."

Quality public television
is made possible

through the financial
contributions

of viewers like you,

who invite you to join them
in supporting UNC-TV.