Forty Miles of Bad Piano Road

No, I didn't have to play this jewel of a piano.

But it's not beyond imagination (sadly) that a client would say, "Oh, it will be fine---just do what you can with it.  No one will know."

(When they say that, and I've heard it often over the years, I always want to say, "YOU, Mr. Client, may not notice anything amiss because YOU are a moron. But don't underestimate your guests.)

This mangled piano was in a fancy wedding venue in the mountains of North Carolina, not far from Cashiers. It's a fancy place.

I'm hoping that this piano is just there for atmosphere.

But, looking at it, you have to wonder what this piano has seen. Was it beat up this way in a middle-class living room? Not likely.

In a holy-roller church, where it was played by enthusiastic piano-pounders? In a raunchy mountain beer joint where the band set up behind chicken wire? By Jerry Lee Lewis wannabes?

Who knows? It's fun to imagine, but it was more fun to see it and know I didn't have to sit down and fight to make music come out of that box!

Nothing to Do With A Piano, But . . .

Well, it's been months since I posted to The Brick Piano. Negligent. Badly negligent.

It's not a good thing to ignore your own blog for months.

But I can explain. I've taken an odd new (or maybe old) direction and spent the last several months writing children's books. Talking dog variety. Chapter books.

This is not, I hope, as odd as it seems, because my goal in life is to be creative in a positive and happy way. Playing the piano for people is a wonderful way to do this.

And now, so is writing books about Perdita Whacknoodle. Actually, they're books BY Perdita Whacknoodle. She's a dog author. I'm just her scribe.

I'll quickly explain. Back when I was in college, my plan was to be an English professor, so I spent my time reading, writing, and made it through the MA (English) level before I discovered that playing the piano was a LOT more fun than arguing about literary minutia in increasingly irrelevant classes. And there weren't any good college-teaching gigs out there, anyway. So I bailed from academics, taught high-school English for a couple of years (in a wonderful school, and to wonderful kids), and have been playing the piano ever since.

Always, though, the reading/writing bug has stayed with me. Then the Kindle and the ebook revolution arrived. It's no longer necessary to go through the agonies of self-publishing (and 'real' publishing) as I did in the 1980's with my books on music. Ebooks are easy, immediate, and a real revolution.

Thus arrives Perdita Whacknoodle. Her blog is here (and I ask you: how many dogs have their own blogs?). And her Amazon books, which are doing great, selling well, and garnering terrific reviews from kids, are here. Or, they're listed in the Amazon box at right, down below the last CD.

The piano isn't going away in my life. Couldn't and never will. But that wonderful creative outlet has been joined by this one.

I'm happy. And I hope readers around the world are, too. So far, so good.

History of the Piano--an Infographic

When we sit down to enjoy our favorite instrument--well, at least it's MY favorite instrument--we usually don't think about all the innovations and changes and technological marvels that have gotten us to where we are today.

We just sit down and enjoy making music. But today's fine instruments are just the tip of the historic iceberg.

Here's a guest post from the HeyKiKi blog that illustrates--in a very clear infographic--how the piano evolved. One picture is still worth a lot of words.

If you like context with your music, you'll enjoy this graphic history of the piano at a glance.

A Good Piano Is Hard to Find

So . . . what IS that that makes one piano sound so good, and another (maybe very similar instrument) sound so lifeless and dull?

Well, obviously there are tons of variables--the quality of the instrument, the age of the strings and felts, and all that. But even given a well-maintained piano, I'm mystified sometimes by differences.

I vividly recall playing for a party at a very nice home in a very nice part of Atlanta---and there was a very nice K. Kawai grand in the living room. When I saw the piano, I was excited--a pleasant evening was in store, because I usually really like those pianos.

But it was not to be, and I just couldn't figure it out. The piano was in tune, clearly well-maintained, and the room was large with plenty of wood and reflective surfaces--but that was the one of the DEADEST pianos I've ever played. Maybe it was just a combination of things that I don't understand.

There is huge variety in pianos, and even very similar instruments from wonderful manufacturers can be dramatically different. You have to play it to be sure--the brand name only gets you started.

As always in these discussions, it reminds me of what Atlanta's dean of society pianists, Margaret Perrin, told me many years ago. "There is nothing," she said, "NOTHING, like a big old Mason-Hamlin grand." And, in my very honest opinion, she was exactly right!

Should We All Be Practicing?

This was taped to the door in a recording studio I visited recently. If you like it, you can get a clean copy from the original source.

Pretty much sums it up. I'm way behind on practicing.

Guess I'll go now and spend some time with Mr. Hanon. More posts later.

A Country With No Music? It Has Happened . . .

No music in an entire country?

It has happened.

Under the Taliban in Afghanistan, a mother could be imprisoned for singing lullabies to her baby. There was no music, no art, no poetry.

How did the arts survive?

A more basic question is 'How did the people of the country survive?' What would life be like in a land with no art, no music, no literature?

Andrew Soloman, who writes for The New York Times and others, went to Afghanistan to find out. He told the story recently on NPR's story-telling program, The Moth. It is riveting and is an utterly engrossing, frightening, and illuminating story.

While the audio file for his story may no longer be available on The Moth's site, it's worth checking because this is a story you'll want to hear.

And, if you can't find it there, here is a good summary from Sergio Gonzales' blog. It's an amazing story.

Life without music would be like life without food or air, wouldn't it?

Christmas CD Sale Till New Years Day

Every year we have a sale on my sixteen solo piano CDs, and we're doing the same this year. It's an easy 'buy four, get one free' sale, and Priority shipping (in the US) is free, too.

Over the years, we've sold thousands of CDs for gifts during the Christmas season, and many people tell us that they do much of their shopping on our website, so it's easy and quick.

During a year when people are watching their pennies, and looking for lasting value, we know that music is a perfect gift. It lasts forever, and the power of association is so strong that the recipient will think of you each time the CD is played.


(I don't normally use this blog for any commercial purpose, but the sale is a good deal and it makes sense to share the news.) And, of course, the CDs are widely available online and at download sites . . . but the sale is only at our own website.

Hard-working Young Busker Gets Unexpected Reward

This story is too happy not to share.

Buskers who play the piano are, by definition, a hard-working group. The instrument, whether acoustic or electronic, is big and awkward to carry and set up, which is the starting point for busking.

So this thirteen-year-old kid in New York City, Jason Cordero, already gets my vote. And, he's playing classical music (though it may be a bit on the approximate side) and not just making up his own new-age drivel.

Plus, he bills himself as "the world's happiest boy." He's only played used keyboards, and it sounds like his family is not affluent.

And then, out of the blue, an executive from Casio sees him playing and gives him a brand-new eighty-eight key instrument. Here's the report from Gothamist. 

It's a great story.

Just Waiting. What Will Happen?

I've always loved the sight of an empty stage, set up and all ready for the musicians to appear. I guess it's just the potential for creativity, the promise (and the hope, of course) that something good will happen. This picture is keyboards, but I really like the sight of a nice drumset, too, with light reflecting from golden cymbals.

The process, after all these years, is still mostly a mystery to me. Some nights the music flows and seems new, and maybe even pretty good. Other times it is more difficult, and nothing "really happens." Why? Don't know.

This scene of the workplace was from a recent pool party in Atlanta. The music, with Del and Jen, was special. Who knows why? Maybe something in the air. The realized potential of the untouched instrument . . . .

It's interesting to hear about new uses for music. This morning, NPR did a piece (on Morning Edition Sunday) about a town in California--Lancaster--where the mayor is experimenting with playing quiet music and nature sounds through speakers downtown.

Here's the story. Though some residents scorn the idea, most seem to like it. And it makes sense to me. If the army sometimes uses rock and rap music at high volume as a weapon, then why wouldn't quiet music calm people in a similar way? Of course, we know that it does--and Muzak has reams of research to prove it.

So, bravo to the mayor for taking a unique step to bring a measure of relaxation and peacefulness to the people of his town. Let's hear if for a slower pace and more quiet music!

The Working Pianists' Role Model in Action

The man in the orange/salmon-colored shirt is Johnny Knapp, and he is the 'piano-player's piano player.' He is the role model for us all because he knows a zillion songs (correctly), has an unerring sense of what each event needs at evey moment, and runs the band smoothly and with good humor.

This photo is from a recent 'tea dance' at a major mall in Atlanta. Since this event caters to seniors who love to dance, Johnny matches the band and the music exactly to what the occasion needs. Here, courtesy of master keyboardist, Jez Graham, is a short video clip of Johnny's last tune on a recent evening.

When the song ends, note the interaction between the crowd and Johnny Knapp. The appreciation from fans is what every working musician wants to achieve, and Johnny makes it look effortless. Music, fortunately for us all, is an ageless gift.

Seen a Lot, Done a Lot

I  sometimes feel about like this piano looks--a bit beat-up and somewhaworse for wear. But I wonder if that's really a bad thing.

This big old Mason-Hamlin is in the Youth building at my church in Atlanta, and it's interesting to speculate on its life. Who knows how many times it has uplifted, encouraged, or just been central to a great evening of singing around the piano?

Probably people have fallen in love around this piano. Maybe it's soothed some bad times, and maybe it has inspired. I know that it has been a practice piano for talented kids with no piano at home. It has been well used, and it looks the part.

It would be nice if it were shiny and perfectly kept up. But it's better to be needed, loved, and a real part of a real community. At least that's what I think.

A New Glimpse of the Familiar

Walking through my living room, I caught a glimpse of the late-afternoon light on the curve of our piano, and it really stopped me. I've passed the back of this piano a thousand times, maybe ten thousand, but never saw the light reflect like this before. (Or maybe I saw it but didn't notice . . . .)

I was reminded that this is exactly what I want in my playing. A new view, a sudden freshness, a new vision of the familiar.

If I could only figure out how to make that happen, to get fresh musical ideas on command. But I've never even come close to that secret. When it happens, it happens and the cliche, the old, becomes fresh and new. And that's always a welcome moment!

Not Music, But a Recent, Big Project

I guess it's true that 'once an English teacher, always an English teacher.' I can't seem to get away from my love of writing. Years ago, I wrote four books for Writers Digest Press about the music business, but that was long ago and far away. A good experience, but I won't do that again.

But I have been working recently with my wife, the recently retired college professor, on revising a book we did together a few years ago, and now it's finished. Or, at least the Kindle edition is finished, and a print version will be out soon.

For years, Sandra had what I always thought was the best job at Georgia State University. She was Director of the Learning Assistance Center, and got to work with thousands of students to help them directly improve their college performance. Often the results were nearly immediate and their gratitude was real, because she had helped them transform their lives.

So now, her systematic approach to college learning is revised, updated, and ready for the Kindle. If you know someone going to college, or (perhaps more importantly) returning to school after an absence, this book could be a gold mine.

Visit our site for lots of 'going to college' info, or check out the Kindle version at Amazon.

A Big, Old Steinway is a Wonderful Thing!

Big Steinway Video
A few months ago, I spent some time at the big old, wonderful Steinway  that's a fixture of Glenn Memorial Auditorium on the Emory University campus here in Atlanta.. My good friend, Fitz, did his usual video wonders and here is his compilation of some of the random things that happened.

Several of the songs are truly oldies because I needed some public-domain tunes for videos---thus there is some older material here. But I think the oldies, like My Wild Irish Rose, for example,  have become classics for a very good reason--they're just great songs.
 
I hope you agree.

The Breakthrough Moment is Pretty Close to the Goof . . .

Sometimes a photo is really worth quite a few words.








 This one is the reaction you DO want.

And here's the one you DON'T want!






Searching for the AHA! moment. Trouble is, the HA moment is pretty close to it. .

Well, Everybody Should Have a Hobby, I Guess . . .

Maybe you read, on the front page of The New York Times, the incredible tale of the mysterious grand piano found on a sandbar in the Miami harbor. It was burned to a crisp. No one knew where it came from, and most sandbars don't have pianos on them, even in Miami.

It turns out that, apparently, burning grand pianos is something of a family project.

If you didn't happen to see the story, here it is.

Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but . . . burning a piano, even for a music video, seems an odd thing to do.

I have a lot of photos of pianos, but nothing to illustrate this post. The picture in the Times says it all.

Office Christmas Parties . . . RIP?

So, 'tis the season, but there don't seem to be many traditional office Christmas parties this year. Probably the economy, and that makes sense to me.

In years past I'd play--usually with bands--for fifteen or twenty big, huge, extravagant company Christmas parties. We learned to dread them because they could be so brutally bad. Seems odd, though, doesn't it? But not if you think about it for a minute.

First, there is almost always an open bar, which invites overindulgence. And once people have one drink too many, it's easy for jealousies, resentment, suspicion and just plain stupid behavior to take over. If you've been to many of these parties, you know exactly what I mean. It doesn't have to involve a lampshade on the head--it can be a husband dancing once too often with his secretary, or a VP making snide remarks on the microphone about the boss, or . . .

The worst of the worst company events I ever played, in the sense of just a depressing evening, was  years ago, when a big Atlanta architectural firm that had its blowout Christmas party on the first Friday night in December. That afternoon, they had laid off about a third of their workforce, and the rumor was that more pink slips would be issued on Monday.

It was the darkest mood I've ever witnessed in a party setting, for sure. The managing partner in charge of the party kept harassing the band to get people on the dance floor, to "get the party going." Talk about divorced from reality. Those people wouldn't have danced with guns to their heads.

So, I'll not be missing those blasts from the pasts. Maybe younger musicians are happily playing those events, or . . . maybe they have deservedly gone away for good.

And f the recession killed them, then there is a silver lining!

Looks Like a Family Lives Here

At a neighborhood reception recently I noticed the family piano, and it made me think of how the piano was once the center of family life.  In the old days, families would gather around the piano for entertainment, and it's interesting to think of all the other benefits that came along with such a group activity.

But this piano clearly has much family use in 2010, and I think that has to a good thing. In fact, I'd say a very good thing..

There's a beginning book of music open, which probably indicates piano lessons. We all know the many benefits of music lessons at a young age.

And then there's just the beauty of the instrument itself, and the way it becomes a focal point for not only the family's educational and musical activities, but as a place to collect many family pictures. What could be more appropriate? It's silently sitting there, symbolizing all kinds of real-world family values.

(And wouldn't it be a good thing if more families had active pianos in the living room? Maybe where the big-screen TV now sits?)

Played this great Steinway last night in the Great Hall--there's no other way to describe it--in Glenridge Hall, an old (major) mansion in North Atlanta. This house is used for movies, but is an actual home.

The piano is perfect, and is perfectly maintained BUT it sounds so good in the room that I went looking for the reason. I play a lot of very good pianos, but this one sounds SO much better that I wondered why. It's not just the size of the piano---around 7 feet--tho that certainly helps.

I figured that the warm, full, almost perfect sound came largely from the wood in the room---the old wood--and from the high ceiling, but I think (after some research) that the enormous size of the hall helps. The wood adds richness and natural reverb , and the ballroom-sized room makes that a natural reverb. You just can't get that sound in a regular-sized room.

Here's a nice explanation of room acoustics and piano sound from the Beethoven Pianos website. Acoustics is an arcane science, but you sure know good acoustics when you hear it . . . so . . . I guess I need a living room that's roughly the size of my entire house!