I lifted the lid – literally – on our piano a few days ago. Sadly it won’t be travelling with us when we move; it’s hard to justify the space it occupies when it is so rarely played these days. It is, however, a piece of family history: given to my father by his father for his eighteenth birthday in 1928, and re-conditioned completely in the early 70s before it was passed on to me. They don’t make pianos like this any more.
My family was a musical family: my father was a gifted organist and pianist, my mother sang, and I was taught the piano from an early age. As a child, Christmas was incomplete without a sing-along of family favourites around the piano and each person present was required to contribute a solo either as a pianist or a singer. My affections transferred from the piano to the guitar in my teens when Dylan, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez and others became the soundtrack to my life.
It’s a joy for the eyes to look inside this piano – it has weathered the years so well and shows how Upright pianos by Ibach were so beautifully crafted all those years ago.
And viewing its interior I see patterns; and patterns lead to experiments and this is what I produced from the top image, doodling away in Photoshop.