Why I Love Doing This

I record a lot, working of the solo piano CDs,  but I also play for events. (This photo was from a house concert...and what an enjoyable way to spend an evening!)

Seems to me that the life of a working pianist, even with the hauling keyboards, the loading docks, and other minor hassles . . . is a wonderful way to spend your life. I was reminded of this just last night when I played for a banquet for the Georgia Perimeter College Foundation.

This is a college--a large one with over 25,000 students--whose mission involves being accessible to many non-traditional students. Many GPC students are the first in their families to attend any college and it does a great job.

Last night a scholarship award was given to an incoming freshman, a girl whose family had come to the US from Columbia 10 years ago, and whose family had struggled mightly to save money for her college. Each time they would get some money saved, something awful would happen and the family would have to use the college money for hospitals, or funerals and so on.

But this is a wonderful, deserving young woman with energy and charisma, and the college gave her a scholarship that made 2 years, at least, possible. It's going to transform her life.

The thing that stands out to me is how many such events I've been a small part of. Over the years I've shared many, many family moments from weddings to anniversaries, to more difficult times. I've played for every possible kind of gathering, and I watch, listen (and maybe learn a bit).

So . . . I'm the fly on the wall, playing the dinner music or the reception music. Not important, really, but sometimes you get a window into an event that inspires . . . and maybe even brings a tear.

It's wonderful.

Why Is This So Funny?

I've always loved this New Yorker cartoon from years ago. It's been on my office wall for ages.

Reminds me of the time, sadly long before ubiquitous digital cameras, when I saw an old upright piano topple out of a pickup truck. The driver clearly didn't understand the notion of momentum.

The poor piano just exploded on the street, much like this cartoon version. Notes and strings and various parts scattered all over. I wasn't close enough to hear it, but I imagine it probably played a magnificent chord as it crashed into Charles Allen Drive, right across from Grady High School.

Now that I always carry a camera I'll probably never again see such a wonderful thing. But there's always this cartoon to bring back the memory.

More Than Music From This Piano

Wandering through Hickory Flat Pottery,  a wonderful gallery in the North Georgia mountains . . . . there's a piano that almost becomes part of the art simply by displaying it.

I wonder if the pottery would look as enticing if it were just sitting on a shelf?

And . . . I wonder if the piano still draws people to want to play it, now that it's mostly a display stand. Or maybe it's even more alluring to pianists because it's covered with art.

In fact, Cindy (the potter and owner) says that people will carefully move all the pottery and other art just to have a chance to play. That's a lot of trouble . . . but pianos have that kind of magnetic attraction--they need to be played. Even if it involves carefully relocating a lot of pottery.


Another context for this piano, and it fits right in . . .