Johann’s Piano

Richard

Vienna, 1790

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Johann walked into a room nearly empty except for an old piano, a small desk where Johann wrote his music, and a well-worn mattress for sleeping. He sat at the piano.

“My old friend, I have tried for years, but I am simply not good enough to secure a patron. How can I compete with that genius Mozart? Or Beethoven or Haydn? As you are aware, I have sold all of my other possessions. Now, I fear I will have to sell you to survive. My heart is breaking, but I see no other way.”

Johann began to play the piano. As he played, tears fell on the yellowing ivory keys. When he finished, he stood and walked toward the door, stopping in amazement when he heard notes coming from the piano.

A three-note phrase with the first note repeated. He walked back to the piano and sat down. The piano played the same keys again: D-A-D. Astonished, the man just stared.

Once more, the piano played D-A-D.

“This is impossible. How can you play yourself?”

D-A-D, the piano played.

“I don’t understand. Am I supposed to copy you?”

Johann played the same notes. D-A-D

Suddenly, every note on the piano rang out simultaneously, creating a loud cacophony of sound.

Startled, Johann fell backward off the stool. He got up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and sat back down.

“Forgive me, old friend, I don’t understand.”

D-A-D

Johann looked at the keys and thought of the notes’ names: D-A-D. “Dad! Are you calling me Dad?”

The piano did a trill of high notes.

Johann laughed with delight.

Next, the piano played all the natural notes in sequence. A-B-C-D-E-F-G

“The note names are the letters you are using to spell, correct?”

Once again, the piano played a trill of high notes.

Johann grinned widely, clapped his hands, and asked, “What about the rest of the letters?”

The piano played the same notes an octave higher.

“Ah! You are a genius!” Johann said. “The next octave is, let’s see, H-I-J-K-L-M-N?”

The piano played a trill of high notes.

“And they continue through the next two octaves, no?”

Again, the piano played a trill of high notes.

“How ingenious.”

Johann stood and walked over to a table where he kept a stack of manuscript paper and a quill. He grabbed both. “This is fantastic. You can not only play, but you can communicate with me.”

The now familiar trill of notes said yes.

“A piano that can play itself and spell. We will be famous,” Johann said excitedly.

Every note on the piano rang out simultaneously.

“Why not?”

Again, every note on the piano rang out simultaneously.

“What then?”

Notes began playing on the piano. Johann wrote them down. T-H-I-S  I-S  T-H-E  F-L-U-T-E  P-A-R-T.

Johann looked at the piano.

The piano played a trill of high notes, and Johann smiled.

The piano then played a beautiful melody as Johann transcribed it on paper.

A month later, Johann debuted a new symphony titled My Old Friend. Afterward, he was approached by a wealthy patron who allowed him to compose and live comfortably for the rest of his life.

Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.

Mark

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