#klavierhaus

Seit mehr als 25 Jahren steht das Klavierhaus Hermann für eingehende Beratung, eine große Auswahl an Instrumenten und ebenso freundlichen wie kompetenten Service. Neben Klavieren und Flügeln finden Sie bei uns zahlreiche weitere Instrumente von Akkordeon über Gitarre bis zur Mundharmonika. Ob neu oder gebraucht - im Klavierhaus Hermann in Trossingen finden Sie das passende Instrument. Wir nehmen uns gerne Zeit für Sie und freuen uns auf Ihren Besuch.

     My husband and I recently celebrated 20 years of marriage and as the years pass, I love him more. But I have to admit it wasn’t love at first sight when Fred and I first laid eyes on each other. We met on a blind date, arranged by a mutual friend who felt we had a lot in common, least of which was that we both worked in the entertainment business. Conversation came easily and thinking that he might be a good work contact, I agreed to meet him for lunch on several occasions. I soon began to notice the twinkle in his blue eyes, his child-like grin and appreciate his supreme intelligence. It wasn’t long before I realized I was falling for him.

     The same could be said of how I feel about my piano. It wasn’t love at first sight or even touch when I first came upon the Steinway O. In fact, I wasn’t sure about the piano at all. I did, however, know, that it was love at first sight when I walked into Klavierhaus. I had purchased a Wilm. Steinberg vertical piano from this wonderful shop three years before when, after a year of lessons, I made the leap from digital keyboard to a piano. I had been to the neighboring piano stores on New York City’s piano row, West 58th Street, in search of an upright that I liked. None of those shops could compare to the artistic passion I found at Klavierhaus. The owners, two brothers, Gabor and Sujatri Reisinger, had created a piano shop that was a walk back in time: when building pianos was a prized craft, a time when workmanship was an art, not merely a skill.

     I was about to turn fifty when my piano teacher suggested I trade the upright for a grand: she knew how much I loved playing her piano, a Steinway B. Fred too, thought it a great idea, we had ample space in our apartment, it was financially possible and a wonderful way to mark my fiftieth birthday.

      We headed uptown to shop.

     A cursory stop at Steinway’s oppulent flagship showroom on 57th Street was fun but overwhelming. I had only been playing piano for a few years at the time and didn’t trust myself to choose from the endless rows of beautiful pianos. We headed a few blocks west, and as we walked through the narrow portal of Klavierhaus, my shoulders and neck relaxed; this felt like home. The woody scent from the workshop downstairs filled the small room and the bare floor creaked. Gabor recognized me immediately remembered me from my purchase two years before of a Steinberg vertical. With music in hand, I tried two grands, a Steinway O and a Steinway A. The O had a bright tone, a happy sound, but the action was little stiff. The A was lovely, with responsive action and given those longer strings, the sound one step above the O. But the price of the A was higher, and I thought it might be too indulgent for me, a relatively new student. I was clearly torn when Gabor mentioned that there was another O downstairs in the workshop. The piano dated to 1909 with original ivory keys and was being restored, the ebony case unfinished. But I could go down and try it if I wanted.

     I descended the narrow staircase to the workshop alone. Legs, soundboards, hammers, tops and keys filled the cramped workspace. Over to the side sat the O. I noticed the black keys were a bit wider and flatter than the black keys on the other two pianos upstairs. Gabor explained that some keyboards had once been constructed that way. As I played this O, I was drawn to it, though challenged by the wider keys. It was different. Was I ready to be different? I spent hours going up and down the stairs playing the same music on the two O’s. I left feeling drawn to the one downstairs; its tone warmer and deeper, but those keys?

      I liked it, but was I in love?

      I went home and pondered, seeing myself at the downstairs O, but I wasn’t sure, yet I kept returning—almost like polite business lunches; pleasant enough. My teacher tried it, felt positive and assured me the keys were fine. I wasn’t in love though. Shouldn’t I be in love?

     But over the next weeks I noticed that I kept thinking about those thick black keys. I began to appreciate the feel of them. I felt myself falling for the downstairs O.

     A few months into owning the piano, I suddenly called him Frank. The hours I was spending alone with the piano felt like a relationship, this wasn’t just a beautiful piece of furniture; it was alive. The more time we spent together, the more I learned about Frank and began to appreciate and trust him. All my emotions were pouring out, the highs of learning a difficult piece of music, the frustration that was inherent in that process.