"Astoria Piano Vandalized" reads the headline of the Western Queens Gazette which, in case you have mislaid your copy, details the destruction of a piano which was placed in Athens Square Park by the nonprofit group Sing for Hope. As a summertime public art project which has become a kind of New York tradition (the cows, the Gates, the waterfalls), Sing for Hope has placed sixty pianos in public places around the five boroughs. “Play Me, I’m Yours!” the pianos invite.

One piano was placed in Athens Square Park in Astoria, home of the Steinway piano factory, the last active piano factory in New York City, which in the 19th century numbered 171. The last factory to close was the Sohmer factory, on Vernon Boulevard in Astoria, which closed in 1982, spent some time as an office furniture warehouse, and was declared an historic landmark in March, 2007, and has been in the process of being converted into condos for the past couple of years delayed, I can only surmise, by the credit crunch of the recession. If you have visited Socrates Sculpture Park, you have seen the former Sohmer factory with its landmark mansard-roofed clock tower. Sohmers are not Steinways, but they are nothing to sneeze at. When Irving Berlin wrote, “I Love a Piano,” he write it on a Sohmer.

Here is a photo and an excerpt from the fascinating (especially if you are a geek about the history of neighborhoods) report from the Landmarks Preservation Commission.

Why do I know all this? A few weeks before that factory was declared an historic landmark, I found a Sohmer piano put out on the street for Saturday large trash pickup. I have written about it here and am also developing it into a larger piece because, how can I put this, I just love pianos. I still have the Sohmer I rescued from the street, even though the soundboard is ruined and several of the keys don’t work at all. I have not come up with the $8,000 I need to have it fully restored to its former glory. But I can’t let go.

“The badly vandalized piano at Athens Square Park, 30th Street and 30th Avenue,” reads the article in the Western Queens Gazette, “had all of its keys and part of its inner gears removed.”

Indeed. The vandalism is quite specific and specialized. The piano was not smashed, axed, beat up, beat in, set on fire or otherwise generally molested. But its keys and part of its inner gears were removed. This particular neighborhood is full of retired tuners and technicians. The violated piano was a Kimball, a Chicago-based manufacturer. The vandal carefully removed the keys from their supporting nails and left the frame. But why, as Keith Morrison on Dateline NBC would ask, why would anyone do that?

Labels: Astoria, pianos, Sing for Hope, Sohmer

posted by Elizabeth at 4:25 PM   0 Comments

Went to The General Society of Mechanics & Tradesmen tonight (their motto: “By Hammer and Hand All Arts Do Stand!”) to attend a lecture on the piano. A piano technician was supposed to take apart the Society’s Weber piano and compare it to a Steinway. This didn’t quite happen, but it was entertaining nonetheless, and I made the acquaintance of a few researchers who may help me in the quest that began when I found a piano on the street last spring. It is a 1927 Sohmer upright. Sohmer was a good reliable German-made line, beloved by Hoagy Carmichael, Al Jolson, Rudolph Valentino. When Irving Berlin wrote “I Love a Piano,” he wrote it on a Sohmer.

Two weeks after I found (and adopted) the piano, I learned by web-surfing (see how useful web-surfing is?) that the building (ten blocks from my apartment) which had housed the factory in which the piano was born had been declared a historic landmark. My neighborhood is lousy with retired tuners and piano builders; it’s Astoria, home of Steinway. A piano technician, ML, lives just down the street. I called him in to have a look at my Sohmer, daffily optimistic that I just needed a tuning, and was told that the extensive water damage on the soundboard would require $5,000 in repairs. Another $3,000 in cosmetic repairs would restore the creature to its former glory – it’s solid mahoghany, which someone at some point saw fit to cover with black paint.

Oh, but its action, oh, but its tone! I am in love and cannot let it go. And so it has sat in my living room since Groundhog’s Day, occasionally singing “Sheep May Safely Graze” when I ask it to, but refusing the “Moonlight Sonata.”

I had hoped, tonight, that the lecturing technician would cheerfully agree to come and take a look at the old girl, and heartily refute ML’s crazy estimate: “Water damage? What water damage? That green on the felt isn’t mold – it’s just green felt!” But alas. More daffy optimism. But when I mentioned ML to tonight’s piano technician, he all but genuflected. Apparently, I had had the rock star of piano rebuilders in my living room, drinking my coffee, giving me the bad news, petting my ill piano. “No point in my looking at it, if ML’s seen it.”

So what to do. Can’t let go, can’t afford repairs; piece of New York City history, instrument that cannot be duplicated if the same amount of money were spent to buy a new one. (“Maybe a Chinese piano,” spat ML, and this was before the toy recall.) Well, it was a miracle that I found the piano, that morning when I had just been wishing for one, so all I can do is wait for another one. Another miracle, or another piano.

Labels: Astoria, piano, piano technician, Sohmer

posted by Elizabeth at 9:47 PM   0 Comments Links to this post