Action

The “action” of a piano consists of the mechanism that turns a hand movement into a sound generating force. Action, reaction. I believe that the action is the part of the piano that gives it its characteristic machine-like quality. To me, this machine is both a blessing and a curse. The action introduces a factor of repeatability. Its levers and pulleys carefully regulated to create an instrument where every keypress feels consistent, across the entire range of the keyboard.

Contrary, hitting a string by hand has many more possible variables: Are you using the meat of your finger, your fingernail or a plectrum. Do you hit the string head on, pluck the string (with a come-here motion), or do you graze the string with a swiping motion? Thanks to its action, the piano creates a reduction of this relatively complex task. At the cost of losing some string-hitting-variables, one gains a consistent and organised interface (not to mention fairly beginner-friendly).

It is the machine of the piano that intrigues me, and frustrates me. Why does music have to be so complex? Other stringed instruments like the guitar or the violin have a far simpler composition, and simply demand more interactive effort of the user. The essence of musical instruments could be embodied in a single tensioned string on a stick, a bow and arrow without the arrow. The piano’s machinification of this musical essence perfectly fits the “enlightened” era of its creation. With the dawn of the age of science and rationalism, it became clear that music would not be exempted of its reach.

I’m sitting on my bed, looking at my upright piano, its dazzling maze of parts looking back at me. I like having the pianos front panel removed, as it allows soft rustling noises to escape while playing. It creates a feeling that the piano is alive, its intricate heart hard at work producing sound, wooden parts breathing and heaving. A vaguely steampunk-looking sound factory not misstanding in an enlightenment-themed fantasy anime. The machine has a captivating power, hidden by plain wooden panels, turning the machine into an ordinary piano: a big brown music box.