Showing posts with label Piano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Piano. Show all posts

Monday, March 1, 2010

Happy 200th Birthday, Chopin!


Portrait of Chopin by Eugène Delacroix

Today marks Chopin's 200th birthday. I celebrate his birth; he was a great artist who fully deserve my admiration.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

A Century-Old Chickering Upright






While web surfing, I spent today eyeing this old relic for sale: an upright piano. It was made in 1885 by famed Chickering & Sons (serial #71147).

Adorned with traceries and beautifully crafted in rosewood, it reticently echoes a romance, perhaps, of La Belle Époque. I particularly like its fallboard letterings.

They just don't make them like they used to.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

A Century-Old Knabe Piano Ad.




I recently purchased a very old opera booklet from the Bostonians Opera that dates back to 1889.

The most interesting part about it is that it contains a Knabe advertisement on the back, as shown above, with a beautiful piano etching done by Allen Eng. and a reproduction of a recommendation letter by Hans von Bulow.

When I first purchased it, I did not know that the letter was printed on the back of the advertisement page. After spending some time deciphering his handwriting, I was able to read its content. It reads:

"The Knabe pianos which I did not know before have been chosen for any present concert tour in the United States by my Impresario and accepted by me on the recommendation of my friend Bechstein acquainted with their merits. Had I known these pianos as now I do I would have chosen them by myself as their sound and touch are more sympathetic to my ears and hands than all others of the country.

New York 6th April 1889

Dr. Hans von Bulow

To the William Knabe and Co."



This letter and an advertisement were created about a century from today.
The proud grand piano shown is no longer for sale, nor does its maker exist.

Time is a cruel thief.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Saint-Saëns and the Knabe Piano


Camille Saint-Saëns, Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images


Yesterday I found the following journal article published in December 29th, 1906 by The Music Trade Review (MTR):

"Never before has dignified advertising played such a prominent role in the marketing of the piano and in this the year of 1906 must be set down as unique.

There has perhaps never been a more satisfactory tour than the one which was closed on Thursday when Saint-Saëns, the most distinguished composer of the day, left for his home in Paris. This tour was only one of the gigantic strides made by Wm. Knabe & Co., and will go far toward the artistic exploitation of a piano which is able to stand upon its own merits and to substantiate the most extravagant statements that can be made in its behalf. The letter of Dr. Saint-Saëns is one of those rare tributes to the Knabe piano which is priceless because it carries the true expression not only of one who understands every grade and quality of tone, but whose entire life has been one of frankness and sincerity almost to the point of rudeness."



Camille Saint-Saëns, born in Paris on October 9, 1835, was a musical prodigy who gave a public performance when he was only five years of age. He is best remembered for his musical suite The Carnival of the Animals (Le Carnaval des Animaux).

Coincidentally, Saint-Saëns visited the United States for the first time in 1906. The article above implies that Saint-Saëns, even then a greatly respected and discerning European composer and pianist, gave a recommendation letter to Wm. Knabe & Co.

Yet in 1908, just two years after the article's publication, Wm. Knabe & Co. and Chickering & Sons were dissolved and incorporated into American Piano Co., marking the demise of these venerated century-old piano makers. Perhaps the general taste of music and the status of piano were changing; however, I wonder how the demise occurred in such a short span of time.

The article's extravagant language is quite amusing. It somehow reminds me of the Hindenburg disaster broadcast.


Reference: Edward Lyman Bill, "In the Musical World." The Music Trade Review 43.26 (1906): 16

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Korea's First Piano


Gwanghwamun Gate (광화문; 光化門), Seoul, around 1890s

King Gojong (고종; 高宗) of the Joseon Dynasty,
Later the Gwangmu Emperor (광무제; 光武帝) of the Korean Empire


The date as to when the piano was first imported to Korea is yet to be found; however, a newspaper article that records the first two pianos ever imported to Korea survives.

Traditional Korea, isolated and suspicious towards westerners, was only exposed to European culture in the late 19th century, and Korean royal family was usually the first to receive cultural artifacts from Europe. Therefore not surprisingly, the two pianos mentioned in the article belonged to King Gojong.

The article, published by Maeil Sinbo (매일신보; 每日申報) in January 26th, 1918, is as follows:

"[왕세자 전하께서는] 음악에 취미가 특별히 깊으시와 이번 경성에 건너오신 뒤에도 태왕 전하께서 그 말을 들으시고 왕세자 전하의 어리셨을 때에 가지고 노시던 피아노 두 채 를 함녕전으로부터 석조전에 옮기게 하시고 그동안 병이 난(고장 난) 것을 악기 점원이 밤을 새워가면서 급히 고쳐서…."

Trans: "[The Crown Prince] was very deeply involved with music; hence during his visit to Seoul, Your Majesty heard the news and ordered two pianos once toyed by the Crown Prince to be moved from Hamnyeongjeon to Seokjojeon, while an instrument clerk spent a night quickly repairing ill parts of pianos caused by long storage..."

(Note: Hamnyeongjeon and Seokjojeon are buildings located at Deoksugung Palace, Seoul)

Since the Crown Prince Yeongchinwang (영친왕; 英親王) was forced to study in Tokyo in 1907, the article suggests that the pianos were imported at least before 1907.


King Gojong later donated one of the pianos to a church located in Pyongyang. But Korea split up into North and South Korea shortly after its independence from Japanese rule in August 15th, 1945, and the piano fell under North Korea's possession.

In 1990s, North Korea sold some of its historic artifacts, including this piano, to the Chinese after experiencing a devastating femine. South Korea, in order to protect these cultural artifacts, recovered and imported them safely back to South Korea in 1997. However, the piano is still not released to the eyes of public as of today.

A mystery in history is always fascinating. I am very curious as to how the piano looks like.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Nara's Historic Grand Piano


Nara Women's University (奈良女子大学), Nara
(By OhMyDeer, Wikipedia)

University's Yamaha Grand Piano (Serial #1749; 1909)




In 1909, just one year after its founding, this ornate Yamaha grand piano was bought by Nara Women's University (then called Nara Joshi Koto Shihan Gakko; 奈良女子高等師範学校) for its use. After many years of use and the World War II, the piano was locked away and forgotten in a storage building for decades until it was discovered in June, 2005.

Nippon Gakki Company (日本楽器製造株式会社; now called Yamaha Corporation) was founded by Torakusu Yamaha (山葉寅楠) in 1887, and it produced its first grand piano in 1902. The grand piano in Nara Women's University was made just seven years after the company's first production.

The piano itself has 85 keys, which is less than 88 keys that the modern grand pianos have. According to historic records the piano was purchased by a man named Fumi Rokurou Naitou (内藤文六郎), who paid 1000 yen, which was an extraordinary sum at the time. (For a comparison, a new government official (college graduate) then received 55 yen per month)

Having seen so many mechanical and plastic looking Yamaha pianos, I feel rather amazed that Yamaha produced such a beautiful piano back in 1909.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Stradivarius and Piano Collection in the Palacio Real de Madrid


The Palacio Real de Madrid
(By Kaunokainen, Flickr ID)

Grand Piano
(Original Picture by Jorge Louzao Penalva)

Stradivarius Cello
(By Terence Wei)

Stradivarius Violin
(By Giant Ginkgo, Flickr ID)


El Palacio Real de Madrid, located in Madrid the capital city and once the residence of the King of Spain, is notable for its royal art collections and its immense scale. The current building was constructed between 1738 to 1755 by the orders of Philip V of Spain, and Italian architects Filippo Juvarra, Giovanni Battista Sacchetti, and Francesco Sabatini were mainly responsible for its Baroque design.

Antonio Stradivari, an Italian luthier who was born in 1644 and died in 1737, arguably crafted the most beautifully sounding string instruments of all time, and an instrument by him is known as a "Stradivarius."

The royal collections of the palace include the World's only complete set of Stradivarius instruments, which consists of two violins, a viola, and two cellos (One of the two cellos, pictured above, is an extra guarded by the palace, dated around 1700). This collection is named as "del Cuarteto Real" (meaning the Royal Quartet), or "los Stradivarius Palatinos." These rare instruments were acquired by Charles (Carlos) IV of Spain in 1775.

The grand piano shown is also a part of the palace's royal collection, but sadly I could not find much more about it other than that it was probably manufactured by Collard & Collard of London. It certainly is very beautiful, worthy of royalty.

I would love to try one of these priceless instruments.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Luther Whiting Mason and the Historic Knabe Piano of Japan


(Picture by the University Art Museum- Tokyo University of the Arts
東京芸術大学大学美術館)


This historic Knabe upright piano (serial number 19750; made in 1879) was brought to Meiji-era Japan when Luther Whiting Mason, an American music educator, was invited by the Japanese Ministry of Education and came from Boston to Tokyo in 1880.

Luther Whiting Mason, born on April 3rd, 1818 and died on July 14th, 1896, was recommended by his former pupil, Shuji Izawa (伊澤修二). At the time, the Japanese government pursued rapid modernization programs and was looking for a foreign advisor in order to introduce Western music to Japan's education curriculum.

Mason stayed in Tokyo for two years and helped to create the Tokyo Ongaku Gako (東京音楽学校), which now is a part of the Tokyo University of the Arts. When he left Japan in 1882, Mason gave the piano to a woman who helped him, Sen Nakamura (中村専), who later married Hideo Takamine (高嶺秀夫). Her daughter, Keiko Takamine (敬子高嶺), married and left her piano to her son, Kuniyasu Tsuchida (土田国保), who then left it to his son, Eizaburo Tsuchida (土田栄三郎), who, coincidently, is now a professor at the Tokyo University of the Arts. Because it was a family heirloom, the piano never suffered a serious damage during its long life.

Japan's Meiji-era is quite fascinating, in part, because during this period many unique and decisive cultural exchanges between the traditional yet adaptive East nation and the West had occurred. Korea and China were not as open as Japan about adapting the cultures of the West during this time, including piano performance. Still, many contemporary Japanese must have been puzzled and awed by Mason's Knabe piano.

Probably one of the roots of today's East Asian piano manufacturers and pianists can be traced to this period in time.

I am happy to note that my piano and Mason's piano are made by Knabe.

Reference: http://www.jpta.org/top/topix/fair2001/index3.html

Friday, March 13, 2009

Interesting Photo that I Recently Bought




Today is Friday the 13th. (Maybe because of this, I did not do so well on my math test... :( )

I bought this vintage picture recently on Ebay. It is not really a beautiful or artistic picture, but its main subject, a Victorian Knabe grand piano, sparks my interest: the piano looks quite similar, but not identical, to my own piano.

The back of the picture has a marked date, June 13th, 1928; I suppose the picture was taken on this day.

The photograph is rather unusual in that its purpose is not so clear. Still, it offers a rare and perhaps eerie glimpse of the past living room without any people present. Already almost 81 years have passed since then...

I wonder if the piano still exists.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

A Really "Cute" Square Piano






I found these photos showing rather a "cute" piano while surfing through the web today.

It is really small when compared with other square pianos. It was made by Mathushek Piano Manufacturing Co., and its model name is "Colibri."

I read that the square pianos went out of favor at the turn of the 20th century partly because of its rectangular design posed limitations; the soundboard of a square piano is much smaller than those of upright pianos and its action is cumbersome to service.

Usually, square pianos are not symmetric, but this piano is quite close to being symmetric, which makes it more attractive.

I want to own and play this curiosity. A pretty little piano.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Frédéric Chopin's Pleyel Pianos



Chopin's Pleyel piano (serial #14810; 1848) at Warsaw's Frédéric Chopin Museum
(Picture by the Museum of Frédéric Chopin)


Chopin's Pleyel piano (serial #13716; 1847) at the Jagiellonian University Museum


Portrait of Chopin by Eugène Delacroix


Chopin's Pleyel upright (serial #6668; 1838) at Valldemossa Monastery, Majorca
(Picture by W. Michael)


Chopin's Pleyel piano (serial #7267; 1839) at La cité de la Musique, Paris
(Picture by J. M. Anglès, La cité de la Musique)


Chopin's Pleyel piano (serial #13819; 1846) at the Cobbe Collection
(Picture by John Challis)




Chopin's Waltz Op. 64 No. 2, played by Artur Rubinstein


It seems Chopin, my favorite and beloved composer, had a lot of pianos, all made by Pleyel.

The last Pleyel grand piano that was in Chopin's possession is the one in Warsaw, pictured above. It was used by Chopin from 1848 until his death in 1849.

Chopin preferred Pleyel pianos, and he shared a friendship with the maker, Camille Pleyel. Camille Pleyel provided his Pleyel pianos at no charge to Chopin in exchange of Chopin's support and promotion of his instrument to others.

The Pleyel piano at the Jagiellonian University Museum in Krakow was played by Chopin during his tours in England and Scotland. This piano still bears a signature by him.

Another Pleyel piano, recently discovered to be in fact Chopin's own piano and is in the possession of the Cobbe Collection, was personally used by Chopin from 1846 to 1848. He brought this piano from Paris to England during his visit, and sold it to Lady Trotter (her daughter, Margaret Trotter, seems to be Chopin's pupil) when he returned again to Paris on November, 1848.

The Pleyel upright (pianino) in Valldemossa Monastery was brought from Paris during Chopin, George Sand, and her two children's stay in Majorca from November 8th, 1838 to February 13, 1839.

They intentionally wanted to stay in Majorca to improve Chopin's failing health, but this same piano was stuck in customs until it was delivered on January 5th. Chopin wrote on December 28th to Fontana, his friend:

"Customs want a mountain of gold for this mess... People [here] are thieves because they never see foreigners and do not know what to ask for things. Oranges are gratis, but a button for my pants costs a fortune. Yet, all this is a grain of sand compared to this sky, this poetry, this color of the most marvelous of places"


Majorca's bitter winter actually worsened Chopin's illness. Because of this, they had to quickly leave and sell this beloved Pleyel to a french couple. However, his stay at Valldemossa monastery was one of the most productive periods of Chopin's life.

Chopin once is said to have remarked, "Pleyel pianos are the last word in perfection."


Beautiful pianos and so many memories.

Friday, February 13, 2009

A Tragic Old Grand Piano...






This is an antique grand piano (c. 1880s, manufactured by George Steck & Co) that lives in a piano shop near my university campus. I saw it for the first time when I first visited the shop last summer.

According to the shop's owner, it was rebuilt (meaning its parts, such as hammers and strings, were replaced and its case was refinished) about a decade ago, and now needs a new owner.

This piano must have once been beautiful and owned by a proud and wealthy owner when it was new; it still has intricate cabriole legs and its rosewood veneer still echoes elegance. But now, it has a scratched, poorly-cared, and sun-bleached cabinet, and because it was manufactured by a piano company that is not so widely recognized, it is sadly not being restored to its potential and sold as is.

I feel moved in some way when I see old artifacts and antiques, becoming excited enough to buy them and surprised by their form and design. The artifacts, if well-cared, do not age quickly or change like humans, and their conspicuously incongruent and inherent cultural atmosphere and style makes them look... abandoned.

Anonymous people of the past, who created the piano, left it to the world and simply disappeared. Is this not the future waiting for so many of us...? Anonymity?

Today I saw this piano again, still without an owner, and I left wondering about its ultimate fate.

A tragic old piano.

Japan's Oldest Piano in Existence.




This seemingly unremarkable square piano is actually Japan's oldest surviving piano.

It was made in 1812 (the year when Napoleon was defeated in Russia) in England by Rolfe & Sons and was brought to Yamaguchi, Japan by Philip Franz von Siebold in 1828. Because of this, it is commonly called "Siebold's Piano." Since then, it never left Japan.

It has 68 keys, and was restrung in 1955.

Now this old fortepiano is housed in Kumaya Art Museum in Hagi city, Yamaguchi.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Prague, Antonín Dvořák, and Piano


(By peragro, Flickr ID)


Prague's Astronomical Clock
(By wwwleraar, Flickr ID)


Charles Bridge
(By rodliam, Flickr ID)


The Museum of Antonín Dvořák:
A historic Baroque house by an architect Kilian Ignaz Dientzenhofer


Dvořák's Bosendorfer grand piano
(Last two pictures by Hung Chieh Tsai)




Antonín Dvořák is one of my favorite Romantic composers. His music has a lively spirit and simple yet beautiful melody, which I love and admire. The piece introduced here is Dvořák's Slavonic Dance No. 1.

Prague, today the capital of Czech Republic, is a beautifully-preserved historic city. The oldest parts of Prague's famous astronomical clock were made in 1410, and Prague's beautiful Charles Bridge, which is lined with sculptures, was finished in the 15th century. The Gothic cathedral shown in the first picture is St. Vitus Cathedral, which was completed in 1929, almost 600 years after its first stone was laid in 1344.

Dvořák was born near this city, and was buried here also. Thus not surprisingly, a museum dedicated to the composer, the Antonín Dvořák Museum, is in Prague. This museum, founded in 1932, is housed in a beautiful 18th-century Baroque house by an architect Kilian Ignaz Dientzenhofer.

A Bosendorfer grand piano (made in 1879; pictured above), owned and used by Dvořák, is currently housed in this museum.

Great composers perhaps need a great setting.

One Movie I Would Like to Watch: Secret







This Taiwanese movie, Secret, (or The Secret That Cannot Be Told), describes a very beautiful love story between two piano-majoring students. It was released in 2007.

Of course, I did not watch it, so I really cannot assess this film, but this movie received very good reviews and rewards by the East Asian public.

The female main character in this movie, Lu Xiaoyu, actually from the 1970s, travels through time to present and meets Ye Xianglun, her eventual lover. The secret that cannot be told is this time gap.

An antique grand piano in this movie is also the part of this secret. The piano is a "time machine" that connects Ye Xianglun and Lu Xiaoyu, but unfortunately it also is located in the school's old music room that is scheduled to be torn down on Ye Xianglun's class graduation day. If the piano disappears, then so does the connection between Lu Xiaoyu and Ye Xianglun.

(The time travel scene can be watched by clicking the video above)

So the story unfolds... And I wish I could watch it. :)

Franz Liszt's Two Chickerings




First and third Picture by J.P. Dalbera; second by ChihPing




These two beautiful pianos are grand pianos owned and used by Franz Liszt, and are currently housed in the Franz Liszt Museum in Budapest, Hungary. The pianos themselves were made by Chickering & Sons, the oldest piano manufacturer in the United States (Jonas Chickering started his company in 1823).

The first grand piano (serial #30,540; first two photos) was made in 1867. At the Paris Exposition of 1867, this same piano was so impressive in its sound and craftsmanship that it won the Imperial Cross of the Legion of Honor (La Légion d'honneur). After this exposition, it was given as a present to Franz Liszt, who even then was a famed and widely-celebrated Romantic virtuoso pianist and a composer.

The second grand piano (serial #50,080; third photo) was made in 1879 especially for Franz Liszt. The actual recording of this piano can be seen by clicking the Youtube video.

The artistry expressed on the cabinets of these pianos is just breathtaking.

I wish I can play one of these pianos.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

My Beloved Knabe Piano







This is my grand piano, made in 1895. (Yes, it is roughly six times older than me!)

When I was searching to buy a grand piano last year, I found this old piano on craigslist.

It was located in Baltimore's historic house built in 1856, and a seller (who was in London) wanted to remove this piano from the house, which he restored.

He said that he bought this house and my piano together in 1999, and although he never played the piano, he kept it all these years because he really loved it. But his job relocated to London, and he decided to sell it at last to a person who would have it restored. Because pictures on craigslist were small and bad in quality, I requested larger pictures from the seller.

I was stunned when I saw the pictures sent by its owner. The century-old Victorian piano was beautiful, with its scrolled floral legs and pierced music desk; however it also showed an age and dustiness. Yet I was deeply captivated by a setting in which the piano belonged. It was standing in a very large yet empty drawing room, and was deeply immersed in an atmosphere of a bygone era. It never left its sanctuary in its entire life, and I could easily imagine how it was used a century ago by an elegantly-dressed lady or a gentleman... Although my home is in a Chicago suburb and there was no way for me to see it in person, I wanted to see and actually touch this beautiful piano.

During 1890s, the United States boasted hundreds of piano manufacturers, and Wm. Knabe & Co. (founded in 1837) was one of the best during the 19th and the early 20th century; its reputation was competed only by Chickering and Steinway. I knew this much, for during my spare time I read about pianos and their manufacturers with a keen interest. (Now a Korean piano company, Samick, owns the right to use Knabe name for its line of pianos)

The piano was surprisingly affordable. It was mostly because it was in its original condition and needed to be restored and because the seller, who must have been fond of this piano, was very considerate. Even without seeing the instrument I realized that its worn hammers, its century-old action, and its cabinet needed to be reworked or restored by a piano rebuilder. These restoration works on piano are collectively called "rebuilding," and are quite costly.

I decided to choose this piano as my own piano. It was a hard decision, but perhaps... deep down I wanted to be a person who has a heart to have this beautiful relic restored to its former glory. I tried to forget it many times, but could not. It looked hauntingly beautiful in that empty room.

Purchasing this beautiful piano was like having a very exciting dream that is yet stained with many strokes of nervous worries and doubts. I carefully asked my mother to buy this instrument for me. She was reserved, but she also seemed to love its beautiful cabinet. Surprisingly she agreed.


I called a professional piano mover, and ordered to ship it from Baltimore to Chicagoland. Later when my piano was being placed inside of my home, this mover who answered my phone told my mother how my piano was the oldest piano that he ever delivered...

The piano, being "almost" modern in design, has 88 keys and three pedals. Although it shows its age and its two agraffes are broken, its tone is still quite remarkable.

The Writing in Progress...

A lovely piano that I would love to have.


(Picture by the Metropolitan Museum of Art)


This utterly ornate piano is actually displayed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

The piano was made by the London branch of Erard, a very respected French piano manufacturer in the 19th century; Erard pianos were favored and played by many of the greatest composers and virtuosos of the day. Its birthday is around 1840s, and being a very old piano, its number of keys is far more less than the modern piano's, which is 88.

A part of its description given by the museum is as follows:

"This piano, made in the London branch of the Érard firm, features the double repetition action, felt-covered hammers, and a constructed metal frame. The richly marquetried Louis XV–style case by George H. Blake was commissioned by the second Lord Foley, baron of Kidder, minister for Witley Court, his residence in Herefordshire/Worcestershire."

Certainly a beautiful instrument, and I wish I can play it for just once.


Reference: http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/amcm/ho_59.76.htm

A Knabe Piano~!











This beautiful piano is an antique grand piano crafted in 1884 by a long-respected American manufacturer named Wm. Knabe & Co. of Baltimore. (serial#: 26898).

Coincidently, this piano was being rebuilt in a piano shop near my university, and I was lucky enough to visit this shop regularly to check its progress.

(It was an object of curiousity and of interest, partly because I own a similar piano made by the same company)

Finally, last Friday, I found out that this once-dissembled piano was in fact finished and assembled at last. Therefore I visited the shop and took these pictures on Monday.

It plays beautifully. I was surprised by its touch and sound, for its old action was fully rebuilt and replaced with new parts. This kind of rebuilding is quite difficult and challenging for older pianos, for they inherently have a different action design. Still, I felt that the touch of piano's keys were slightly heavier, perhaps resulted because of this change.

While in the shop, I also noticed that the owner of the piano shop was worried, for he said that this piano's owner was quite disinterested about its completion. He was concerned that the owner might not be able to pay for his work on this piano, given today's troublesome economical situations...