I wake up on this calm Sunday morning in September, realizing it is also the fall Equinox as well. A good friend is releasing an album today and I am excited to be able to listen to it. I believe this day was chosen because of its significance as a balanced day, one of four sacred ones we get each year. Balanced for the moment, I will always remember that I met my wife on the summer equinox which clearly tells me that special moments are very possible on these unique days. The song of life carries many notes, and the one that came before this carried with it a tone I cannot forget.
Yesterday, a wonderful man named Sam came to tune our piano. The piano was a gift from a dear friend who moved to Florida, and I had assumed it hadn’t been tuned in a long time. A couple of years ago I (we) moved it, surely knocking some of its tonality out of sorts. Sam tuned this piano by ear only, with no additional substantial equipment. Well, except for skill and expertise of course. I was thoroughly impressed by this art of improving art. I had assumed he would show up with some sort of machine, technology, or at the very least calibration equipment to help the process, but as Sam explained, if you worked for Steinway, you had to tune by ear or you didn’t work for Steinway any longer. There was a specific formula that the founders had come up with and that was to be respected if you were to procure employment.
Did you know that the Piano industry was once the biggest in America back during the turn of the 20th century? Before the automobile industry took us to new carbureted heights , pianos were the IT thing to have, and as Sam said, there were something like 50 piano makers – just in New York alone. Now there may be 5 in all of America. A dying breed, lost to the future of here and now. As I watched the past, Sam meticulously played with the hammers, the little wooden felt tipped mechanisms that hit the strings, thus creating the sounds. He continuously hit keys, at different lengths, speeds, and intervals. I was stupefied. He mentioned that he was counting frequency and he was just basically doing simple mathematics. Perhaps, I am the simpleton in this situation.
What I was witnessing was more than just math. Sam had a distinct touch- not just of the ivories, but of the connections between his affect and the sounds effect. I was watching a master at his craft. Sam had some sort of ribbon that he tied to the chords, and a few other hand tools which seemed more likely to be found on a carpenter than on a piano tuner. He continuously went up and down the piano, because as he explained, there is a relationship between all the keys and tightening one part of the instrument too much at a time can cause the entirety to fall out of tune. The best analogy I can muster is that if you tighten your sneakers too much at the bottom, then the top never quite feels right. That and your toes go numb.
Is there a parallel between walking and tuning a piano? Sometimes I know I can feel ‘out of Whack’, or ‘out of sorts’. Does that mean my internal tuning is off? Watching Sam was like seeing into the past, and for a while I saw by closing my eyes and listening. What were these frequencies he was counting? What told him exactly when he had gotten it right? At a certain point I had to give up trying to figure it out, a welcomed theme in my life right now. So I just let it be. I closed my eyes again and drifted off into a sort of Alpha brain state as he continued tuning. I wonder if I could tune myself? I wonder what strings inside of me need tightening and I wonder if sometimes I am just strung too tightly?
The chakra system seems to also resonate with frequency, which is to say they all have their own unique notes. Together they harmonize and what becomes of this harmony is the song of silence that resonates out, mostly without our ever being aware. I had known the low end of the piano, the bass notes were out of tune. As he worked though, I could tell very easily that the middle and upper ranges were also needing his mechanical skill. As he continued to hammer on, the notes kept sounding more pure than they previously had. Funny aside, a beautifully crafted instrument such as this 1970’s Wurlitzer could have been so ‘off’ without anyone noticing. How off can we be in life, without ever having a clue? Sam recommends tuning a piano every 6 months, how long have I been out of tune?
Sam explained to me a bit more about the architecture of the piano, but without googling it again, it would be nearly impossible for me to regurgitate. My novice take is, every piece plays a part and each piece is essential to the whole. One string can have an outsized effect on all that surround it. Sam mentioned that the strings also had ‘memories’ and I chuckled, of course they do. We never forget the frequencies of our past. From the top strings made of steel and as thin as a pin, down to the bottom ones vigorously wrapped in copper for depth and pulled in the opposite direction for length – as Mr. Steinway designed, all of these strings serve a distinct purpose. Alone they are worthless- together they are symphonic.
As Sam was finishing up, this wonderfully calm and well spoken man told me of how, just out of LaGuardia and City College of Music back in the 60s, he had bills and needed a job so he went to apply to a starter company, Baldwin Pianos. This inferior maker would be a good place to start for Sam but upon interviewing he was quickly shoo-flied away without even being given an opportunity. He decided he would shoot his shot and try to get a gig at Steinway, America's premier Piano maker. Fortuitous timing and preparation gave Sam a lucky shot to interview. Ok kid, tune this piano. So Sam sat down and tuned the piano. Just after, a short stocky man he had not seen previously sat down and started tickling the keys. The kid’s alright, Hire him. That’s what Mr. Steinway said to the hiring manager and the rest is, as they say, history.
Sam’s natural ability to fine tune was shaped with the help of his childhood- specifically his mother who was a music teacher. He knew from a young age how things should sound and was constantly finding his own tune. He knew how math worked one could say. He was astute enough to understand the balance of tone, and how adjusting just one string could have far reaching effects on the instrument. Today, on this Equinox Sunday, which I believe represents an Early balance of which I understand very little, I am grateful to have had this experience. I am awestruck at the art of Organic Talent that still exists on this planet, and I am moved to memorialize it in my humble way. I too wish to be tuned like a piano, and I wonder how those skills can be developed so that my instrument may sound as good as this old piano, one note touching all. One key to unlock them all. Thank you Sam, and thank you Opportunity.
What would you do if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song, I will try not sing out of key…
‘TUNE IT AGAIN, SAM.” Can be reached at Persam1197@aol.com or on his cell @ 845-480-4217
With Gratitude and Delight,
S.A. Thomas
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