I am having a bout of springtime ick, but let us not dwell on the phlegm. I just watched and enjoyed Pianomania (Austria, 2009), which follows a Steinway piano technician, Stefan Knupfer, in Vienna as he strives to tune and otherwise customize pianos to suit the needs of their demanding, perfectionistic, artistic, masterful players for specific performances.
Is it bad that for a while in the beginning I was thinking of Steinway!verse Arthur? He would be that demanding of his instruments (specificity above all), and he would never be wholly satisfied with the outcome. And then Ian Bostridge showed up, singing like Steinway!Eames.
But no, it was really enjoyable aside from that. Fascinating looks into the ways in which sounds from a grand piano can be altered, using both traditional and nontraditional methods. Beautiful shots of the inside of the instrument as it's tuned and played. Inviting you to debate whether the requests to make the sound "rounder" or "more like a clavichord" or "more magical" or *rubs fingers together* are the vocabularies of two masters conversing, struggling to put incredibly specific acoustic concepts into words ('If they are neurotic about the way they want the piano to sound when they play, then I am as much a neurotic when I work on it,' he said), or pretentious-sounding nonsense ('You have a knack for making complicated things sound more complicated – why don't you just say 'I loosened it up a bit to make it wobble,'' said one of the recording technicians). A glimpse into the interior life of a concert hall and a recording studio. Of course, many opportunities to listen to—or listen for—the differences in sound qualities, in personalities, in suitabilities, from instrument to instrument. And fun, too. Igudesman and Joo showed up. (Stefan is not only particular; he can be creative and silly.)
So that was, er, as I said, quite enjoyable. If my mental faculties were more together, I'd take a few minutes to compare it to Jiro Dreams of Sushi, which I saw over the weekend with friends: portraits of experts hard at work and in love with their craft, honed over many years, intended in the service of others, often pleased, yet never content.
Is it bad that for a while in the beginning I was thinking of Steinway!verse Arthur? He would be that demanding of his instruments (specificity above all), and he would never be wholly satisfied with the outcome. And then Ian Bostridge showed up, singing like Steinway!Eames.
But no, it was really enjoyable aside from that. Fascinating looks into the ways in which sounds from a grand piano can be altered, using both traditional and nontraditional methods. Beautiful shots of the inside of the instrument as it's tuned and played. Inviting you to debate whether the requests to make the sound "rounder" or "more like a clavichord" or "more magical" or *rubs fingers together* are the vocabularies of two masters conversing, struggling to put incredibly specific acoustic concepts into words ('If they are neurotic about the way they want the piano to sound when they play, then I am as much a neurotic when I work on it,' he said), or pretentious-sounding nonsense ('You have a knack for making complicated things sound more complicated – why don't you just say 'I loosened it up a bit to make it wobble,'' said one of the recording technicians). A glimpse into the interior life of a concert hall and a recording studio. Of course, many opportunities to listen to—or listen for—the differences in sound qualities, in personalities, in suitabilities, from instrument to instrument. And fun, too. Igudesman and Joo showed up. (Stefan is not only particular; he can be creative and silly.)
So that was, er, as I said, quite enjoyable. If my mental faculties were more together, I'd take a few minutes to compare it to Jiro Dreams of Sushi, which I saw over the weekend with friends: portraits of experts hard at work and in love with their craft, honed over many years, intended in the service of others, often pleased, yet never content.