The Plight of a Pianist

In this world, if you don’t own a piano, I have found that you must be proactive in finding one to play. How I envy thee, guitar and fiddle players, who can so easily transport your instruments wherever you please. Play it on a mountaintop? Sure! Bust it out for a jam session in the woods? Sure! For us pianists, it is not so easy. One must search, be persistent, and occasionally sneak. I have done all of the above since my arrival in Cape Town and have seen some success. On Wednesdays, I go to a German church up the street and play from 5-6 pm. Arranging this took 3 weeks, many visits and strange looks from the Pastor and his family. Now they know me and expect me and it has worked well. I sit alone in a sanctuary and play as loud as I want….. PRAISE.

My next piano-searching adventure happened at the Mount Nelson Hotel in downtown Cape Town. First I must engage in a little side photo-story and tell you why I was there in the first place….

High Tea!

 What happens when 14 young American women get all dolled up, go to a ritzy hotel, drink tea, eat crumpets and things of the like?

We pose.

This was a really fun afternoon. The food = delicious. But by far the best part of this experience was meeting Maggie, the pianist for High Tea. Maggie is probably in her 80’s. She does not read music. She plays everything by ear and from memory. She can barely see. She is phenomenal. I talked to her for a while and was so thrilled at the prospect of learning some of her tricks. I told her I would come back soon and listen to her again. I then asked some of the staff if it would be alright if I came in during times when they weren’t busy and played. They seemed delighted at the prospect and told me to talk to their boss who happened to not be in that day. I told them I would be by the next day.

So, the next day I got all gussied up again and was so excited to talk with Maggie and the boss man. However, on my way into the tea area, I passed by the ballroom. Unlocked. I thought BINGO, they must have a piano in here. Low and behold, they did! It was perfect; a dimly lit room with crimson carpet, chandeliers, and completely empty except an unlocked grand piano. I almost peed my pants. But I had to stay focused; I had to go see Maggie! Thus I told the piano I would be right back. I hurried over to see Maggie and told her how excited I was at the prospect of playing at some point. I thought she would be really supportive of this, but I was pretty surprised when she SHOT ME DOWN and was like, “Oh no no no, they wont let you do that. We have foreigners come in and they ruin the pianos, they just can’t play.” Wow, way to give a girl a chance, Maggles. I then said that maybe I could just play the one in the ballroom if no one was in there and she said that “Oh no no no, the staff would be VERY upset if they saw you doing that, VERY upset.” BUZZKILL. DAMN MAGGIE, CAN I LIVE???

Thus, I told her with a smile that I was disappointed but that I would continue to look elsewhere, hoped to still see her and learn from her sometime, thanked her, and left. I could have just walked home from there, disheartened. I almost did. But listen, when you love something as much as I love the piano, sometimes you may act irrationally. Or perhaps just rationally enough. I started to walk home and passed by the ballroom and thought, (excuse my language) but F*CK IT, Maggie doesn’t OWN the piano, she simply suggested that I not do it, she didn’t explicitly tell me not to. So I went upstairs, sat down and played cautiously for about 30 minutes. During this time 2 employees, one white one black, smiled at me and told me to keep playing. One of them even turned on the lights for me! Even if I wasn’t “supposed” to play the piano, the worst thing they would have done would be to tell me to leave, which I graciously would have done and apologized and sweetly smiled. You gotta play the game.

Thus, the conclusions of this social/musical experiment:

If you look like you know what you’re doing, most people wont ask what you’re doing.

If you look nice and dress the part, people won’t ask what you’re doing.

If you’re in South Africa and white, black workers wont ask what you’re doing.

 Racist, you say? No, just true.

That’s why I love piano- you have the white keys, you have the black keys, and in combining them you can make the most beautiful sound. Unless you’re in the Key of C, in which case you’re just a white supremacist.

JUS KEEEEDING. 


So yes, finding a piano is difficult. However, absence does make the heart grow fonder. My 1 hour at the German church on Wednesdays is one the sweetest of the entire week. I cherish this time, I think of nothing else while I play. Working to find a piano makes it all the more fun too, depending on how you look at it. It's a thrill to stroll over to the Mount Nelson Hotel Ballroom, hoping it will be unlocked. You fiddle players out there (one special one in particular....) may see this solely as an inconvenience but oooohh, the risk can be so sweet, so rewarding. So sure, I may be out of practice. Sure, I'm not writing as much I would maybe like. But taking time off from the things (and people) you love the most often makes the time spent with them all the better.