The Lightbulb

After more research into the value of my piano, all signs still pointed to peanuts. The only other thing of interest I discovered was that it was built in 1939. Coincidentally this was yet another piece of growing evidence that indicated it was not worth much. Well my piano was just fine by me! It also brought a certain sense of richness to the living room that my Ikea furniture only dreamed about. Something inside me, however, wanted to make this old piano shine. That’s when the lightbulb went off. What if  I used my piano as an art project? That way, I could bring out the treasure that only I seemed to feel had any value. I did have a lot of resources at my disposal that could assist me in tackling a big project like this. I had access to a wood shop, a plastics shop, and a metal shop. Not to mention the new rapid prototyping center, which I’ve be told can copy wood parts using laser cutters. Who could turn down the possibility of playing with lasers? Not I! I was sold. And the Vintage Piano Project had begun.

My 1939 Vintage Player Piano

No Dull Evenings Now

The Very Official Looking Crest

I wondered where my piano had come from. She was old to be sure. An inspection of her innards revealed a mass of strange parts. They had a certain meanness to them, as if  they belonged in an evil laboratory, just waiting for that one lightning strike. Of course, being a television conditioned consumer of the times, It didn’t take long before my thoughts turned to diamonds.  Suddenly all of her previously nasty bits now sparkled under the glow of the dollar signs in my eyes.

So just what was the old girl worth anyway? I had noticed a very official looking crest nestled behind the music roll. It read, “Virtuolo: Hallet and Davis, Est. 1839″. Perhaps this was my ticket. As per my usual modus operandi, I decided to consult the internet to see what I could find. Almost immediately I happened upon an old newspaper article from 1923. It was an advertisement for the Virtuolo Player Piano. After a careful inspection of the article I discovered that my piano, which also carried the Lexingtion label, was the cheapest model of the Virtuolo line. The dollar signs may have faded, but this old gal still had a place in my heart. She was, after all, my long awaited first piano.

Virtuolo Ad - The Saturday Evening Post - September 15, 1923

In the beginning …

I always wanted a piano as a child, although I never had any luck convincing my parents that it was a good idea to buy one. “Too much money,” they said. “Expensive to maintain,” they said. And the cost of lessons, well, that was a whole other discussion.

As most children do, I eventually grew up and moved off to go to university. In my third year I moved into an apartment with a big elevator and thought to myself, it wouldn’t be that hard to get a piano into this elevator. So with much zeal off to Craigslist I went, to see what I could find.

The piano seemed like a steal at $150. It was an old player and I was told with some repairs to the bellows it would be up and running. Great! … but just what are bellows anyway? Well I’m sure I could find out, I have the internet after all. (If you know anything about pianos you’re probably cringing at this point.)

My First Piano Ever!

All I had to do was figure out a way to get it to my apartment. Back to the net I went. I wonder how much a piano weighs? Oh! Around 400 – 500 lb I’m told. Well, with that I decided that giving my friends a case of beer to assist with the move was out of the question. No luck with the regular moving companies either, it would appear most don’t seem to want to touch a piano with a ten foot pole. “It’s the insurance” they said. So finally I relented and hired a piano mover.

Cost of Piano $150.00
Cost of Move $187.73
The smile on my face when it got to my apartment: Priceless.

And so the Vintage Piano Project begins …