Work Text:
Still Standing
Despite having what might charitably be called the worst year ever, Gavin remains unshaken
by Ms. Sara Fright
Staff Reporter, Rolling Stone
Everybody, it seems, has an opinion about Klavier Gavin. At 24, the rock star-cum-prosecutor has already racked up a slew of awards- three Grammys, two VMAs, even the Los Angeles County King of Prosecutors award- as well as his share of personal tragedies. He's been associated with smugglers, murderers, and the quasi-mythical Phoenix Wright, had his name slandered on every street corner, come out- as a switch, even- despite his profession- and yet, somehow, inexplicably, he's escaped with his boy-next-door charm intact.
When you meet him, though, it's not hard to tell why. This is a man who wants to be liked- no, loved- by everyone he meets. He insists on giving his interviews in the kitchen of his spacious home, fretting over a massive imported espresso machine and pushing plates of biscotti on unsuspecting journalists. Klavier- it's hard to think of him as "Gavin", though the spectre of his infamous brother still looms above him- seems pathologically inclined to hearing everything you have to say before he'll even start on himself. It wouldn't be so bad if he weren't so damn easy to talk to- you found yourself telling him your life story without even noticing. It's insanely attractive, crazy circle: the closer you get, the more you like him; the more you like him, the closer he wants to get to you.
At some point though, you have to remember what you're doing, that this is about him and not you; but with somebody as fascinatingly complex as Klavier, that's not hard to do. It's not like he's holding back, either. If you ask him about his upcoming solo tour, you'll find yourself being dragged into the studio. "It's only a rough cut," he apologizes in his soft German accent, cuing up a brand new track. It's hard to imagine what could possibly improved about the song- a fast, clever number called "Evidence of Love"- but Klavier the rock god is nothing if not notorious for his perfectionist ways. He follows it up, in his characteristically schizophrenic way, with a ballad, "Wear My Chains", that could make a hardened top weep in public. It's the classic Gavinners sound, stripped down to its essentials; it's hard not to listen for Mr. Daryan Crescend's hard driving rhythm guitar, but Klavier's vastly improved vocals are enough to make you forget.
Mr. Crescend, it seems, is still very much at the forefront of Klavier's mind. At the time of our meeting, State vs. Tobaye is only a month past. It's a complicated case with complicated implications, many of which will surely not see light for several months. To talk about what happened, a history lesson is in order. In 2012, a controversial law was passed prohibiting lawyers- along with judges, senators, and park rangers, for some reason- from revealing their sexual orientations under threat of disbarment. It seemed destined to remain an odd, obscure law- until 2018, when rising star and cult favorite Phoenix Wright lost his badge for violating it (see sidebar p. 20, "Phoenix Wright and the Gavin Connection"). After the furor died down, it slipped again out of public memory.
Fast forward to this summer. Without the law, State vs. Tobaye would still have been a shocking case, pitting Klavier against band mate and police investigator Mr. Daryan Crescend and ending in Mr. Crescend's arrest for murder. However, all this was upstaged yet again by Klavier. When it became apparent that Mr. Crescend was responsible for the murder in question, Klavier very calmly rolled up his sleeves and unfastened his manacles, breaking his collar right there in the middle of the courtroom.
It was a surprise, to say the least.
Klavier laughs when he recalls the court's reaction. "I think I shocked them a little, ja? I can't help it if I like to be a bit theatrical now and then." His smirk says he knows what an understatement he's making. If nothing else, Klavier is still a consummate showman. But how much of it was really a show? Isn't there something to be said for being loyal?
"Daryan stole an invaluable natural resource and smuggled into the country for the purposes of exploiting Chief Justice Lawe and other families suffering from the effects of a devastating disease. It's Unsäglich," he replies bluntly. "Then he murdered a fellow police officer in cold blood. Surely no such man deserves any loyalty whatsoever." His tight composure starts to crack, his nostrils flaring angrily as he speaks. "If I am collared, I have a responsibility, just as I have a responsibility to whomever I collar. But my first responsibility is always to myself and to the people of Los Angeles. I was his sub, not his hound." In this moment, Klavier Gavin is neither the energetic rock star nor the suave prosecutor; you get the sense of seeing him for who he really is- a man battered and hardened by more than his fair share of personal tragedy, but one who is willing to face absolutely anything without fear.
These glimpses into the man himself, shields down, are made all the more tantalizing by how infuriatingly brief they are. Klavier barely pauses before he's all smiles again, ready to go on with the next topic- his coming out. But not even something so personal, so obviously difficult, seems to put a dent in him.
"It's funny," he starts, sounding a little bit like he's rehearsed it, "before I said I was a switch, everybody seemed to have no problem with me. Now they say people like me don't even exist." He make a gesture above his head, as if to suggest he's evaporating. "Poof! Gone just like that." It is a pretty funny proposition when he puts it that way, almost funny enough to make you forget the serious implications of what he's done. He's slid right through a precarious legal loophole- the text of the original Non-Disclosure Act states that no one affected by it "shall reveal themselves or allow themselves to be revealed as dominant or as submissive". Klavier has done neither- but the California state senate is already preparing to revise the legislation. If the law is expanded, he could easily find himself out of a job.
"It was written fifteen years ago," he says dismissively. "Times have changed. People didn't like what happened to Phoenix Wright, and they won't be very happy to see it happen again." He's got a point- it's true that the senate is working on the legislation, but many are calling for it to be weakened or abolished. (For more, see our interview with legal activist and former LA County prosecutor Miles Edgeworth at RollingStone.com/Politics)
It's true- times are changing- and Klavier himself is playing no small role in the transition. His actions in the courtroom are nothing less than groundbreaking, pushing the debate on sexual identity and orientation. If this supposedly flaky rock star can stand up to his own top, the logic goes, can't any sub? Klavier's somehow managed to turn the issue on its head, turning a tired debate about binaries and a fair playing ground for subs into one about the basic Constitutional right to freedom of expression, regardless of orientation. Despite his obvious contributions, Klavier dismisses the notion that he's an activist. "If I help people by living how I want to live, so much the better."
So what's in store for the brilliant and complicated Gavin? "Two cases, preparing my tour, and a date," he replies, his smile even more radiant than usual. "It's a light week." It's not the first reference that Klavier's made to the new person in his life. "I'm in love," he freely admits, twisting the ring on his thumb in an oddly bashful way. "It's the best thing that I have." His face is so earnest when he says it, so pure and childlike, that you can't help but smile a little on seeing it. He snorts, though, when pushed for details. "I've sworn not to tell. They'd be so mortified, they might never speak to me again." That's all he'll say on the matter- though the lack of collar or cuffs is telling.
Fueled by his reluctance to name his partner, fan speculation suggests a fellow member of the legal profession. Favorites include Cassy Files, the legal aide who's always glued to his side outside the courtroom, Ms. Ema Skye, the detective he's traded notable public barbs with in the past, and even courtroom rival- and friend- Apollo Justice.
"Wait and see," Klavier says, laughing; and for his and everybody's sake, I hope we'll be able to soon. ¤
For more Klavier coverage, including concert photos and commentary from fansite Gavin-Wave.net's Grace Fawn, visit RollingStone.com.
Sidebar: Phoenix Wright and the Gavin Connection
Ask Klavier Gavin about Phoenix Wright and watch his cheery mood dissipate. "He's a good man," he says, and that's all you'll get out of him. Equally mum on the subject is Wright himself, who hasn't granted an interview since 2021. A decade ago, Wright was America's first "ace attorney"- a term imported from Japan, where a few seemingly ordinary lawyers are treated like, well, rock stars. Before Klavier came on the scene, Phoenix Wright had a huge cult following and a highly respectable courtroom record; now, he's the pianist for LA's least glamorous dive bar. What happened- and what does Klavier have to do with it?
Asking about Wright is a sure-fire way to run up against the biggest elephant in Klavier's parlor- you just can't talk about them without including Kristoph Gavin. Before Gavin's highly publicized trial for murder earlier this year, Wright and Kristoph were- on the surface anyway- the best of friends. Odd behavior from Wright, especially considering that brother Klavier was directly responsible for his disbarment- and it's widely rumored that Kristoph was pulling the strings. Add to the mix Apollo Justice and his co-counsel-slash-magician Ms. Trucy Wright, who frequently appear opposite Klavier in court but beside him at dinner. Trucy is the adopted daughter of- to make all this even weirder- none other than Phoenix Wright himself.
If it all sounds very confusing, that's because it is. There's something here that we're not seeing- it's very hard not to think that something bigger is playing out behind the scenes. This is a situation to watch- in this reporter's opinion, anyway.
Klavier, for his part, laughs the rumors off with characteristic playfulness. "You've read too many mystery novels, ja? It's so much simpler than it looks." It sounds so convincing, you can almost forget that it isn't. ¤