Last summer, I unwittingly bought a piano at a yard sale. Well, that’s not totally true. I bought the piano on one condition: if it didn’t work, the owners would buy it back. I hired a piano technician to come take a look at it, and lo! it would not could not should not be fixed. The owners paid me for it but declined any interest in taking it back.
It took about 6 big men to get the antique upright piano into my home. After we settled it against the wall, my husband swore, “That piano is NOT leaving this house unless it’s in pieces.”
I smiled when he said that, thinking… ‘how naive he can be… thinking I’d leave a piano behind.’
I researched my treasure. I found it was American made -in Missouri, 1918. I was enthralled with my 1918 treasure. I told EVERYONE who asked about it. Soon, my father came to know about another -fully functional -piano. We secured it, and put it against another wall in the house. Have I mentioned before that my house isn’t all that big? Having two pianos around just hasn’t been ideal or comfortable or ideal. Pretty soon, the novelty of the piano wore off. With a saddened heart, I put her up for sale. Imagine my surprise when no one wanted her! I finally took her off the market (after six months), and resigned myself to the fact that I was stuck with her.
Until… looking at it one day, my dad said, “you could really make something out of that wood.”
BRILLIANT! After that comment, I spent approximately 6 hours total just STARING at the piano and mentally chopping it into pieces, dreaming of the possibilities. My husband called yesterday morning to let me know he’d be home early from work.
“Feel like chopping up a piano?” I asked.
He did.
As we chopped it up, we came to realize just how much this piano wasn’t worth. Most everything had been redone! The ivories on the keys -which most likely would have been real ivories in 1918 -had all been recovered by someone in Arizona.
Anyway, I didn’t want to toss them out. Even if they had lost significant property value.
Before you go and report me to “hoarders” (can you imagine what they’d say to the woman who had TWO pianos in her small house?), hear me out…
These keys are going to make some of the MOST AWESOME frames -not to hang pictures in, mind you… just to hang.
I was so delighted with the idea that I showed my Dad, who happened along about that time. He was excited too and started instructing me as to how it would be done, since (let’s be honest) I have no clue.
We had to vacuum the area under the keys on account of the mice nest. A mouse actually BIRTHED BABIES in this piano. You can practically hear the antique value crashing down.
No mouse babies were found -thank goodness.
What happened next wasn’t anything I’m terribly proud of. As I was removing the FAKE ivories from the keys, just to see what it would look like, two of my piano students walked through the door.
Two students catching their piano teacher in the act of hacking up a piano? FAIL!
But they were terribly nice about it and even started helping. I needed all the help I could get. I’m not exactly cut out for this kind of thing.
This is more my husband’s line of interest -tearing things apart.
I was absolutely thrilled to find things that actually did originate in 1918. We’re talking hardware. And these amazing pedals!
They’re going on the wall, you know. Just like that. Coat hangers, anyone? Don’t doubt my decorating! I’m only saying that because my husband always does until I get it all done. Then he says, “Wow.” And I say, “Don’t doubt my decorating!” It may never be featured in Pottery Barn, but there was a reason I was voted “most original girl” in my senior class…
Last week, I hacked up a dictionary. This week? A piano. What’s next? My self respect? I feel like I’m hacking up everything I believe in.
But look at the cool wreath I made from the piano strings. All it needs is a little t-w-e-a-k-i-n-g and some spray paint.
This took us a total of six hours. And we had buckets of fun. I’m glad we did it. The piano wasn’t worth much and it would have cost thousands to get it fixed. There really wasn’t any point since the only thing that was original was most of the wood, the hardware and the thick metal interior harp.
My husband’s prophecy was fulfilled. The piano left the house… in pieces. Thankfully Dad popped in to help haul that out. I could not. The strings -I might add -had mostly all been replaced.
Oi.
My keys are now my special project. As soon as I’m done with the wreath, I’m going to start on the keys. They all fit nicely into a drawer, and the drawer fit nicely under my bed. 
I feel like my old piano somehow has donated her organs to us.
And oh! the things it will be! A bench, two shelves, a myriad of hanging frames (not to mention my ultra awesome piano key frames) and so many other things I could bawl with happiness. And I just might bawl, if we don’t get the projects done and OUT of my living room so I can move my functional piano into her right and proper place.
It’s sort of dysfunctional really -treating our pianos like some antiquated Royal bloodline. Out with the old, off with it’s head… in with the new.
Also, if you’ve got a spare minute, send a quick prayer my way. I’m going to be getting my house ready for an unfancy (not a word) dinner party tomorrow and I’m feeling a bit harried about the whole thing.
Also, happy Day before Mother’s Day. Soak in the beautiful weekend, and if you’re bored… find an old practically worthless piano to hack. It’ll be just the medicine you need to get your creative juices flowing.
PS: can I have the keys and pedals?
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