THE SIENA PIANO

Press, Volume CI, Issue 29798, 14 April 1962, Page 3

THE SIENA PIANO

The Immortal Plano. Bv Avner and Hannah Carmi. Alvin Redman. 286 pp. Illustrated.

For many years we have been hearing about the Siena Pianoi Readers of “The Gramophone” will recently have read . that three recordings have just been released on which Charles Rosen, amongst others, plays a classical hotchpotch on it. Now we have the story of this instrument and a very odd affair it is.

Avner Carmi is a piano tuner and his search for this piano seems to have wasted a disproportionate amount of h > and his family’s time. Mr Carmi’s father seems to be the person we must blame for this book, since he was •he first person to tell his son that the piano ever existed. That day may have been a momentous one for •he author, but for this reviewer it was disastrous. Br.efly. the story is this. According to musical legend, two pillars from the Temple of Solomon, after varying vicissitudes, found themselves .ncorporated into a piano by a Turin craftsman. Marchisio and his sons. A Sienese carver. Nicodemo Ferri, then covered it with intricate carvings and subsequently—about 1868—it was presented to Prince Umberto as a wed. ding present from Siena. <On the dav of its presentation. Liszt happened to be present'

and never having been one to miss an opportunity, he played “La Campanella” on it before anyone could have realised what was happening.) After this it slipped into obscurity. It is a source of regret that at this stage of its history, “La Campanella” did not follow it —a fact which gives one the only real justification for believing the piano had the soul the author claimed it possessed. Anyway, we next see it

covered in plaster buried in the desert at El Alamein and then finally it is brought to Mr Carmi’s shop.

Certainly it is a remarkable story, and apparently the piano is a remarkable instrument. It has a wide tonal range, and if claims are correct. it adapts itself tonally to whatever music is played on it. How it does this we are not told, but a recent broadcast of a Scarlatti sonata played upon it increases one’s curiosity.

It is a great pity, however, that with all this to dine out on. Mr Carmi did not employ someone else to write the story, for his style is so inept, and the accompanying episodes so fatuous, that they have the unhappy result of bringing everything into what is no doubt unjustified discredit. Should this seem excessively uncharitable on our part, then it gives one further regret that the reader will have to devote time to this book to discover the ‘ruth for himself.