Our family home always had a piano in the living room. When I was quite young, it was an upright. This was later replaced with a rich-sounding grand piano. I remember the excitement the day it was delivered. It was a big deal. The beautiful wood of the piano was kept lovingly polished, and it was tuned on a regular basis.
As a teen, my brother learned to tune pianos. He had a perfect pitch ear and hated the sound of anything that was out of tune. So it made sense that he would want to keep the piano tuned.
In the style of the time, a large navy and deep maroon striped rectangular fringed scarf was draped across the piano's closed lid. As a child, I loved the drape on my aunt in Philadelphia's piano. Hers had a magnificent fringed gold satin brocade drape. She also had numerous photos in leather frames displayed on it -- her pupils and a memorable picture of my grandfather dressed in a turn of the century cut-away suit. I loved to check out the pictures when we visited her. Our piano did not have a photo gallery.
Lots of Players, Lots of Music
Our piano was always busy. My father, although trained as a cellist, played the piano with zest and for fun. My siblings took piano lessons as well as lessons on their string instruments. This was part of their musical education. Most classical musicians during their training learn to play piano. The endless (or so it seemed) piano practice added to the nonstop musical din in the household.
In my childhood, up until my later teenage years, my dad would sit down to play and would gather the four younger children around the piano so that we could all sing together. There were several books of songs that were favorites. There were two of American favorite songs. These included songs like: "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly," "She'll be coming around the mountain," and other similar fun tunes. At the holiday season we sang Christmas carols. Later as college-aged young adults, we would go caroling in the neighborhood.
We also sang our share of popular music. Dad had a fake book of 40s and 50s hit songs. Fake books are a standby for gigging musicians. They have the melody, lyrics and chords, and require the musician be able to "fake" it to play the song. The old saw of "hum a few bars, and I'll see if I know the tune," is just what the fake book works for. Dad would turn to the fake book and play pop hits of the time: "Tennessee Waltz," "Delaware," "Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be). "Que Sera, Sera," a 1956 hit sung by Doris Day was one of my favorite songs. The lyrics spoke to me -- "When I was just a little girl/I asked my mother, what will I be/Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?/Here's what she said to me/Qué será, será/Whatever will be, will be/The future's not ours to see/Qué será, será/What will be, will be." I still love this song.
My memories of singing around the piano with my father are some of my fondest musical memories. At these fun sessions, it did not matter that I had no musical talent. We all sang together, and I sang along.
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