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!

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!

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.