Concert Not-So-Grands

In a Washington, D.C., recital recently, Brazilian Pianist Ney Salgado was negotiating the tricky rapids of Ravel's Alborado del Gracioso. Suddenly -- oops! -- several notes failed to sound. Salgado stopped in midpassage, rose and faced his astonished audience. A memory lapse? Finger cramps? Hardly. "The keys are stuck -- I cannot go on," Salgado explained walking offstage.

Unfortunately, the Washington breakdown was far from an isolated occurrence. In addition to the traditional hardships of the concert circuit -- captious critics, eccentric plane schedules, hotel-room mix-ups -- pianists have lately been coping with a rash of recalcitrant and faulty instruments. "Twice in two weeks I've had the keys come right off the piano," says Byron Janis. "In Flagstaff, Arizona, I was in the middle of Rachmaninoff's G-Minor Piano Concerto when all of a sudden a tiny jagged piece of wood jabbed my finger where the B-flat had been a second before. A week later at the University of Maryland, a bass A-flat flew off as I was finishing a Chopin sonata -- they glued it back with hot epoxy during the break." Both instruments were brand new, one a Steinway, the other a Baldwin -- the two makes whose pianos are used at 99% of all U.S. concerts.

"It appears that everything this country makes today is not of the quality it was 50 years ago," sighs Jack Romann, artists manager of the Baldwin Piano Co. While Romann does not foresee a time when flying flats will be prized souvenirs, like Liszt's popped piano strings, he admits: "It would be naive to think that piano building hasn't suffered the same as other American crafts."

David Rubin, concert and artists manager at Steinway & Sons, also cites a decline in service. Two weeks ago, Spanish Pianist Alicia de Larrocha struggled valiantly with the stiff action of a Steinway at a recital near Washington, D.C., after a local dealer's technician denied her request for a minor adjustment, insisting that the instrument was in "perfect condition." Misha Dichter, 27, still smarts from the rebuff of a tuner in St. Paul who responded to his complaint about the house piano: "Listen, young whippersnapper, Liberace played it and he liked it."

Costs today prohibit most musicians from touring with their own personal pianos as did the great artists of the past. Veteran Performer Gary Graffman, however, has found his own drastic solution. Before Graffman goes on tour he consults his Truth Box, a card file indexed by city and state, with his own appraisal of the pianos available. If the card indicates the piano is a dud, and the sponsor fails to provide a substitute, Graffman cancels the concert.

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