In the basement of the Carpenter family home in New Haven, Connecticut, there were swings that hung from the rafters. A sign emblazoned “Richie’s Music Corner” sat next to a stack of alphabetised records, the strains of Nat King Cole and Perry Como the accompaniment as Richard and Karen swung the afternoons away while doing homework.
Tall, gangly Richard, the elder by three years, was fascinated with music – a love passed down from his father, Harold, who introduced his son to the classics. Richard was a piano prodigy, and his parents – who took on a car-washing business for extra cash – poured money into top tutors and the best piano their money could buy.
Karen, meanwhile, was more interested in dance and sport. She was short and stocky compared to her shy and introverted brother. When Richard got into schoolyard fights, it was Karen who would front up to stop them. “She’d take on all the roughnecks and make them leave Richard alone,” their mother, Agnes, would recall years later.
For Karen, it was clear who the star of the family was – and it wasn’t her.
“Within the family there were some interesting dynamics,” Randy Schimdt, author of Karen Carpenter biography Little Girl Blue, said in a 2010 interview.
