The Blüthner Grand Piano (1884) Part III

The Blüthner Grand Piano (1884) Part III

In December of 1973, we had lived in Michigan for a scant six months. One evening as my wife and I prepared to go out for the evening, I came downstairs to get our heavy coats and all of the other accessories that we were learning were important in order to survive the blustery cold of early winter. As I stepped into the living room which housed our two grand pianos, I was startled by a loud cracking or popping noise. The sound was akin to a hunter’s shotgun as it crackled through a distant stand of forested land during hunting season. Within a moment, I discerned that the sound was coming from our Kawai grand piano which had been bought just three years earlier. I had never heard that sound before, but I knew it was the death knell of any piano—a cracked sound board. Panic shivered through me. As I opened the top of the piano and my eyes scanned the thin sound board, my premonition was correct. There was a split in the board under the bass strings. My stomach felt sick as I contemplated the significance of what my eyes had confirmed. It were as though some horrible tragedy was slowly being revealed.

Needless to say, our evening out was dampened considerably. The next day, after consulting with colleagues in the music department of the local college where we taught, I called Jim Reeder at Michigan Piano Sales and Service. His company serviced the pianos at the college, and he was touted to be one of the best piano rebuilders as well as tuners in the Mid-West. We anxiously awaited his arrival a week later as the Kawai continued to exhibit minor tremors of a doomed sound board.

When Jim arrived, we had already put the Kawai’s top on the long stick and silently awaited his verdict as we introduced ourselves. To our astonishment, instead of inspecting the Kawai, he immediately proceeded across the living room and opened the Blüthner grand and began to play it. We could tell he was mesmerized by its rich tonal quality of the piano. Its sound was very much like the sound of a cello. Jim called it an accompanying piano since its tone quality was not excessively bright but emphasized the more mello overtones of the harmonic series. The piano was particularly made for chamber music.

Mr. Reeder encouraged us to have the piano refurbished. He outlined a plan for restoration that would include new hammers, strings, pin block and new paint for the ebony finish that had been its glory in years past. The piano technician was not sure of the actual age of the piano but would take the serial number and get a approximate date for its construction. In my mind, I was a little overwhelmed with this entire scenario. We had called an expert to get advice on what to do with the Kawai and its slow decline because of the faults that were continuing to multiply as the weeks progressed. Now, we were in the midst of a restoration proposal for an antique piano and there was, yet, no mention of the Kawai and its problems.

After the discussion of possible restoration of the Blüthner, Jim Reeder turned to the Kawai at the opposite end of the room. He examined it as a physician examines a patient with multiple fractures with eyes that were knowledgeable and a mind that was apprising the entire scope of how to salvage a piano that was in its youth that had met a fateful disaster.

After a thorough examination, the skilled technician turns to us and said the solution lay in the complete replacement of the sound board which meant new strings, hammers, and pin block. We mentally gulped at this diagnosis as the dollar signs mentally choked us. Without hesitating, Reeder told us that he figured the piano had to be under warranty. He would check on that immediately. If it were still under warranty, the company would honor the default in the instrument. This meant that all labor and parts would be at no charge to us. We would probably have to pay some shipping charges. He would check on all of this and get back with us as soon as possible.

My wife and I were informed the next week that since Mr. Reeder had recently been franchised to sell and repair Kawai instruments, the Kawai company stood by their warranty and all labor and parts would be at no charge to us. We would be responsible for a one-time $90 shipping fee. Within a month the Kawai was out of our home and on to the factory in Grand Ledge to be restored. Within a year it was returned in restored condition. The Blüthner was next in line for restoration so as the Kawai was brought home the Blüthner, which was built in 1884 as the records confirmed, checked in at the piano hospital for its overhaul. By March of 1975, the Blüthner was restored. Two months before the restoration was completed, my wife fielded a call from the piano factory. The call was from Jim Reeder. He wanted to know if we would like the exterior finish restored to the ebony finish or to the piano’s original finish. My wife said that it made sense to do the ebony, but she questioned what was meant by the original finish. Jim told her that when the ebony finish had been stripped, the discovery was made that the wood underneath the ebony was rosewood. What a surprise this was for everyone! Needless to say, the piano would sport the new, yet, original look of rosewood. Since the music rack that was attached to the piano was probably a later addition and not the original rack, Mr. Reeder found a matching, rosewood, ornate rack that looked like it was made for the instrument.

The piano was delivered back to our home on March 18, 1975 in the afternoon. That evening a professor of voice from the college where we taught paraded several of her voice students into our home for a salon recital in honor of the birth of our first child, Matthew. The recital was billed as a child’s recital since the students performed “children’s” songs of various classical composers as well as a number of the original Winnie the Pooh songs of A. A. Milne, the author of the Winnie the Pooh tales (1926).

Hagler Rice and his family would have been very proud of this restored instrument that now had a new lease on its musical life. They never knew that the piano would even look different after its restoration with the “new” rosewood finish. Thirty-one years later our grandson (14 months old) has had most of his first piano lessons at the Blüthner. He, even at such a young age, has learned to play in five flats and he promises to be another link in the legacy of The Blüthner Grand Piano (1884).