-What's so special about Steinway pianos then? my friend asked.
-The sound, the touch. It's hard to explain, I answered.
As we happened to be standing in front of a music shop, I suggested
that we would go in to the shop and I would demonstrate.
We entered the shop, asked one of the shop assistants where
the pianos were and were told that they were on the bottom
level of the store.
As we entered the piano showroom there were many, many
pianos of varying sizes, colours, prices and brands.
-What I'll do is that I will play the same piece of music
on different pianos and that way you will be able to hear
the difference in the sound each piano makes.
-That okay with you? I asked.
-Sure, my friend answered somewhat irritated.
A few days earlier I had composed a piece of music titled ''Noir'',
a sparse, moody, and quite mellow piece.
It had thick and juicy harmonies, a Mozart like haunting
melody and imbued with a sense of sadness.
Perfect for showcasing the sounds of a piano.
I sat down at a Yamaha upright and began to play.
After having played only a few bars my friend asked:
-What's that that you're playing? Did you write it?
It sounds so sad.
-Yeah, I wrote it a few days ago and it's dedicated to my son.
I wanted to give him something that showed him that
I understand what he is going through at school.
But let's carry on.
Next, I played a Steinbach, then a Kawai, then on to a
Baldwin, and so on and so on.
Noticing that my friend was growing impatient, I moved on
to the Grand pianos.
Slowly I edged my way toward a magnificent ''Black Stallion'',
as in a Concert Grand Steinway at the back of the store.
Standing on a riser, lid up, glistening black with a golden
frame holding the strings, there it stood just waiting to
be touched and to set free all the music hidden on the
ivory keys.
As I sat down on the piano stool in front of the Steinway
and looked across the grand piano, I noticed that there was
a number of people standing there and not only my friend.
It was strange because they were all silent.
-Well, I thought, I guess they love Steinway's too.
I lowered my head, gently slid my fingers across the smooth keys
a few times, visualized my son's face, and then played
''Noir'' as if my life depended on it.
When I finished playing, the people at the end of the
grand piano gently clapped their hands and then
somehow just seemed to disappear.
-Wow, I get it now, Steinway pianos are the best,
said my friend and then continued: But, really, can
we please get something to eat now, I'm famished.
Just as we were about to leave the showroom, a man
with a nametag stopped us.
-Hey, I know you. I've seen you play a number of times.
That tune that you played, where did you get that from?
-Well, it's called ''Noir'' and I wrote it just a few days ago, I answered.
-Do you have a recording of it? If not, then you really need to
make one. It's a very beautiful, sad and haunting tune.
I thanked Brian(name on the nametag) for his kind words
and then hurried up the steps to catch up with my friend.
As I entered the street level I noticed a man sitting on a bench
in some sort of (what looked like to me) yoga position.
In the midst of all the hustle and bustle around him
there was an aura of stillness and calmness about him that
made a deep impression on me.
I took a photo of him to remember it.
Years later when I had started to paint I found the photo
and decided to make a painting of it.
The above image is that painting.
About the tune ''Noir'', I did record it and perform
it on a number on occasions with different groups.
I still don't own a Steinway piano as they are way out
of my price range, but I do own a piano that comes
close to the depth an warmth of the sound of a Steinway.
Mind you, my piano has one important advantage that
makes up for it.
It has a headphone socket so that I don't have to drive
my neighbors crazy when I practice scales and other
tedious technical exercises for hours.
''While retreating timely into a break of reflection,
we can conquer the sanity of our mental condition
and find a piece of stillness in the flurry of
the world.''
(Eric Pevernagie)
about the image: acrylic on paper
Noir = french for black
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