Last year, I attended a conference at a country house hotel that boasted a slightly battered baby grand in its lounge. From the moment I saw it, I was desperate to play – and I found my moment during an afternoon pause between sessions. I should have been networking, mingling, sharing ideas. Instead I sneaked to the lounge and started to improvise (very) loosely in the style of Oscar Peterson. I kept doing so until, eventually, it became clear that the lounge was about to be used for an event, at which point I crept away.
I’m a decent pianist, but nothing special by the standards of those who make music for a living. So why are pianos important to me?
