Pianist John Tesh, George Winston and Elton John all share a love for the piano. Under their administrations, a piano can amplify and express their souls like nothing else. As we trudge through the chaos that we call living, the sound of a piano at the hands of a master, can bring order with its rhythms. Melodies can calm the confusion of our thoughts. We appreciate the pianist, and craftsmen produce instruments of great quality to compliment their abilities. Separate the master from his piano and neither can fill the void.
Consider a baby Grand Piano. A black baby grand polished until the luster of the lacquer finish is such that you can almost fall into the reflection. Eighty-eight keys glisten from the sunlight pouring in the window. Ninety-three years of symbiosis with humans have left not a single ugly mark on its exterior, indicative of the admiration its owners felt for its inherent beauty. It stands as elegantly now as it did when this particular piano was lovingly crafted and propelled into the world in 1912. For many years after its creation, melodies and harmonies danced across the finely crafted soundboard.
But time marches on and the owners of this fine instrument shuffled off this mortal coil. The piano however, as with many items of value, found itself joining the next generation of its’ owners family. Sadly, no one in this family could make the keys sing. And so this beautiful instrument of ebony and ivory sat silent. From time to time it would be carefully moved from place to place around the country wherever the owners found a new place of residence. For forty-five years it sat unvoiced.
Meanwhile, 1945 saw the birth of a new technology. Eniac, the world’s first computer was the prototype for computers of today. Prototype may be a kind description, as Eniac contained 19,000 vacuum tubes, 1,500 relays, and hundreds of thousands of resistors, capacitors, and inductors burning up almost 200 kilowatts of electrical power. And it certainly wasn’t portable, weighing in at just over thirty tons. (Martha, I don’t think that’s a laptop.) It was essentially a giant calculator.
Time passed and the computer grew smaller, more powerful and more versatile. Then in 1985 an artist named Andy Warhol made history by using an Apple computer to display brightly colored images on a computer screen. The link between imagination and machines was forged. Art forms never before seen flourished at the hands of computer/artists. Film soon followed with computers creating images that mimicked reality but surely didn’t exist in the real world. Music followed closely, with new computers able to take the very essence of music and distill it down to digital components. From there it was only a matter of time before computers would put the music back together again. New melodies constructed. Old melodies refined. Recordings from the Masters restored to their original clarity after decades of deterioration.
Still, as we listen to music coursing through speakers connected to our computers are we really hearing music the way the artist anticipated? We adjust the volume, the treble, the bass and even the balance. Some computers can even enhance or fade specific instruments within a song. Each playing of the recording is exactly the same. But is that what the artist intended? Where is the artist soul? Where are the almost imperceptible variations that occur because of the artist’s mood, the atmosphere or even the seasoning of the instrument?
Now the 21st century arrives and new generations of computers meet our expectant baby Grand Piano. A company called Qrsmusic (www.qrsmusic.com) manufactures a technology called Pianomation that mounts solenoids under each key of the piano and ties it wirelessly to your PC, laptop, tablet or even a smartphone. With the Pianomation connected to the Internet, music can be downloaded in MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) format and then sent to the control system on the piano. The control system is small enough to mount under the keyboard and be nearly invisible. Every solenoid has the ability to play each key with up to 128 different velocities, forte, pianissimo, staccato or anywhere in between. No speakers, no mixing, no electronic amplification.
So there I stood, enraptured by this nearly 100-year-old instrument filling the house with music once again. Listen as hammers meet string, the carefully crafted wood with curves and shapes giving the sounds depth, richness and intensity. Watching the keys move up and down, I could almost see the maestro’s hands moving across the ivory. How glorious it was.
Pianomation is not inexpensive. But it is an amazing technology. It is akin to the old player pianos but with much more finesse. Tied to a computer and network, with its’ ability to download and process thousands of great pieces, it can bring life back to a magnificent piano. The neighbor may boast of his megawatt surround sound in-home media center. You can simply point to the piano, cup a hand to your ear and say, “Ahh, Bach!”
Victor Hugo said, “Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.” I don’t think a computer would argue that point.
Don’t forget that Grumbles From The Keyboard, chock full of useful tips, tricks and how to’s is available online at Amazon.com, Barnes and Nobles, www.grumblesfromthekeyboard.com or The Bean on 41 in beautiful Punta Gorda, FL. Get yours today! And did I mention that Grumbles is Santa approved? See it here. http://youtu.be/IeN8QfL0SUk
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