Christina Horsten

ITH songs like Purple Rain and Kiss, the enigmatic Prince enchanted fans around the world. The music icon died unexpectedly a year ago, aged 57, and nowhere is he missed so much as in his home town of Minneapolis.

The white walls of Paisley Park, Prince’s private compound, now doubly protect the music superstar’s remains.

Inside the estate, Prince’s ashes lie inside a miniature model of the building. It’s decorated with the purple symbol that the singer for years used as a pseudonym, encased in a matte glass box high on the wall above the building’s atrium.

The walls of the room are painted with a blue sky and white clouds; the plush carpet shows a sun, moon and stars. The pale Minnesota sun shimmers through the skylights, and on the upper gallery, white doves sit in an aviary.

“This was a place where Prince would spend a lot of time and feel comfortable,” says Mitch, a guide leading a group on a tour of Paisley Park. “So his family felt that this would be a good spot to place his urn.

“For many people this is a very emotional moment of the tour,” he adds, gesturing to two side tables

Wholding boxes of tissues.

From outside, Paisley Park is an unassuming, utilitarian, nearly windowless building, built in 1987 and tucked away in the Minneapolis suburb of Chanhassen.

But behind its sturdy walls was Prince’s home, where he kept his belongings, his art, costumes and instruments, and where he built himself a musical paradise with multiple recording studios, stages and video production facilities.

It was Prince’s place of refuge, the place where he worked,