I selected this piano, from among 5 that looked identical (but sounded different), when I was a precocious 14-year-old.  With this piano, I composed songs of drama (“Rainbow Rhapsody”), songs of anger, angst, and love.  I learned the music of Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Haydn, Liszt, and numerous others.  In more recent years, this became my recital piano of choice for performances in my home.  As can be seen in the revealing morning light on the fingerboard (and before a needed cleaning), this piano has known a great quantity of music.

 

Now, it is my great delight to be a teacher on this piano.  Among my students is my nearly 16-year-old son, whose hand is pushing this A chord.  His hands are better than mine — more potential, though less experience.  His young and maturing hand makes a sharp contrast on this nearly twice-as-old keyboard.  Last week I had the anxious and satisfying experience of hearing him perform the Adagio from Beethoven’s Pathetique before an audience of 200.  It was his largest audience (by far), but he displayed great poise and determination, and a sensitivity which extends far beyond his years.  It was a proud moment, and one which strengthens my hope that the song of the ancients will yet be heard in the rising generation.