I was asked to be a little flexible about the start time for a meeting this morning. The occasion: the expected delivery of a $200 piano. Initially, I couldn't quite understand the excitement: "our very first piano!!!!" But then I realized how important piano ownership had been in my family. It occurred to me that my colleague and my parents shared the distinction of not only being first generation college graduates but advanced degree winners at that. I was puzzled about the appeal of listening to others struggle to master a tune — unlike the glorious and rare opportunities I've had to hear a skilled keyboardist). In my typically sluggish thinking, it gradually dawned on me that owning a piano is a social distinction. Perhaps the delivery of a piano is not only an acquisition but a signal that one has arrived at an important social status.
Such puzzlings were rewarded by a brief internet search. I uncovered a thesis entitled Entertaining a New Republic: Music and the Women of Washington,
1800-1825 submitted for a Masters of Arts degree in American Material Culture (remember when people only majored in science or art?). Somebody else also finished a study in 2011 in the form of a dissertation:
Reading the inventory: Household goods, domestic cultures
and difference in England and Wales, 1841–81. That study examined "household inventories" to, among other things, discern which room pianos were located. I don't know whether we should be surprised but 38.5% of drawing-rooms contained pianos compared to just 10.2% of parlours. This is all to say that I am pleased that others have taken my momentary curiosity to the extent of complete studies.
Regardless, the delivery of a used piano on this rainy day in New England is a significant moment – perhaps in ways that strike a chord and resonate across the years. Another family has to now decide which room is the best spot for their new piano.
