Dec 8, 2018 20:00 Rev.2      

Towards a Sonata for boiling water       

                      By Herb Ranharter,   2018       

 Copyright Herb Ranharter 2018   All rights reserved                

 All webrights reserved    Herb Ranharter 2018                     

It is a reasonably well known fact that a good concert piano must be kept at even keel with all environments       

that threaten to distort, detune or otherwise alter its blissful state of pristine dimensional stability. It is to this       

end that after each performance a person endowed with special skills in this direction has their way with the       

piano as they apply a modicum of water with a watering can.  While this activity fills the less familiar observer       

with absolute horror It is hardly a surprise that assorted dilettantes (e.g. anyone with a container) will willfully       

or inadvertently distort and abuse this activity in service to their own particular ends.     

It was a stroke of genius on part of Steinway piano company to add a drain hole with a stopper and a hose      

attachment to their concert pianos; just in case. Brilliant thoughts in engineering especially in view of California      

sales; California where the roofing and water proofing industry still hasn’t come to grips with the rainy seasons       

and roof leaks are responsible for much of what results in damage to open concert pianos. Or perhaps it might       

be tears, Bluebeard style; Bela Bartok would have incorporated them into his opera given such an option       

(“Tears Judith, tears”). I am reasonably certain that Keith Jarret is one of the few pianists who has gone beyond       

or should I say below, and had to seriously contemplate the extended possibilities that such a feature offers.      

Especially in view of the fact that he owes the success of his Cologne Concert largely to a happy accident       

involving a well soaked but put to an obscure place of storage concert piano. This incident forced him at the       

time to improvise in order to make up for playing on an inferior instrument. The rest is as they say: History.      

But, back to the extended design feature: The drain is, of course, so well camouflaged that it can only be found       

by a select and dedicated cadre of plumbers, a group of men and women that also play piano in their off time       

and who’s curiosity usually extends beyond the mere tinkling on the ivories. A professional curiosity that takes       

them below what is commonly perceived as proper piano play. The drain is, needless to say, meant to be used       

sparingly. Pouring beer into the piano, as is the custom in certain parts of the world, is strongly and in the most       

certain terms, discouraged. It is feared that the strings may well become unruly and it is feared that the they       

may develop a taste for certain liquids and thus inevitably necessitate the re-tuning of the instrument.       

The procedure for recovering from liquid abuse requires the lifting of the furthest leg of the instrument by a few      

inches (yes, much like what a dog might do to relive itself.) Depending on the expected flow and the present      

state of the liquid level appropriate caution is in order.  All the while it will be essential to move slowly and       

exercise great care with an eye on the possibility that liquid may slosh towards the keyboard side. Once the       

instrument is stable a bucket shall be placed under the drain (just in case of some mishap) and a common ¾”      

garden hose can be attached to the drain spout with its other end leading into a convenient receptacle of       

sufficiently large capacity. Some further attention needs to be invested into making sure that the outlet is actually       

lower than the fluid level in the piano; to avoid any kind of reverse flow as this might lead to seriously       

unpleasant damage and the need for jet more re-tuning of the instrument. Do not use a hair dryer during or after       

this procedure under any circumstances as this would cancel the procedures effects all together.       

The greatest of care has of course been afforded by the manufacturer in making the instrument waterproof      

by using all the appropriate lacquers and state of the art water sealants, all the same aging of the wood and       

changes in temperature may have taken their toll on the previously pristine conditions rendering the piano body       

vulnerable.       

We hope you have found these instructions useful and we do recommend a few trial runs at draining the piano       

in practice; surely you are aware that practice makes perfect. At the same token, we feel obliged to point out       

that the warranty does not cover such tests and any tuning and re-tuning of the piano is, after such trial runs,       

strictly the responsibility of the owner.       

In closing, perhaps I should explain how these thoughts came about. When I coughed into awakening this morning,       

I was greeted by a reddish dawn, owing to the emissions from assorted wild fires all around. The twilight eventually       

spilled her watercolors to the floor as she mixed her spectra into a hazy composite of near white as if reflecting       

from a blank page, a blank sheet of paper. The Harvest of Insomnia: Memories, thoughts and ideas that have festered       

all night between trips to the porcelain, aching to be written down quickly to avoid being forgotten and yet they       

probably should be forgotten on account of their inherent pointlessness.     

At such moments, every latent thought feverishly tries to escape from consciousness. A certain clarity none the less      

emerges, coupled with ample doubts that arise while writing things down. Amidst the twilight haze and putting      

thoughts to paper one suddenly realizes that the old music has already stopped and many new concert pianos have      

gathered all around. They are waiting, resembling something like a herd of leaderless Hippopotami, frantically     

outdoing one another with new approaches as to how to stage a Sonata for boiling water that is to be performed by     

entirely too many instruments! Is twelve-tone music, yes, more notes for more people, really an answer?    

Or is it simple notes for simple people to make way for new forms of escape?