When I broke a piano string

ATP tennis has a wonderful magazine called DEUCE which they launched a few years ago but WHICH I don't think did too well on print because it is now being published exclusively online. Having it online should be a big plus since it will be more accessible to many who are interested in reading the articles in the magazine but cannot afford to pay for a season's worth of issues. This year's summer issue has very enlightening articles about many ATP players like Federer, Djokovic, Gonzales and Karlovic. It's a joy and refreshing change to read about off-court facts these players.

The article about Federer for instance lists down the "last times" when Federer went somewhere and wasn't recognized, had to hire a tennis court, etc. One item there set me strolling down memory lane so to speak: the last time Federer broke a string.

I certainly have never broken a string on my tennis racquet but I've broken a piano string on a grand piano once. But just as I never expect to break a string on a tennis racquet, I had never expected to break a piano string so when it did happen, it came as a complete surprise. I've always thought that that was 'feat' reserved for the elephants of the piano keyboard who pound away at the piano when they play demanding pieces like those by Rachmaninoff or Liszt. [I've read about how Leon Fleisher played the first Brahms piano concerto during a competition and broke a string. But he played on, pounding out that out-of-tune key.] Certainly not by someone like me, I thought.

But I did. And this was while I was playing the recessional during mass at the grand piano in a church in Ames, Iowa. I remember well that I was playing then the accompaniment to "City of God" where I had to pound out a octave on E natural with my left hand repeatedly. Then all of a sudden this loud bang came out of nowhere. At first I couldn't understand what had happened but when that second E below middle C started to sound funny, I realized that I had broken a string. Of course, I had to continue playing until the end trying to avoid playing that E. When it was over, I stood up and looked over the music stand to take a look. Everyone else in the choir came over as well to look and I remember somebody said in amazed tones, "Wow, Margie, you've broken a string!" Sure enough, there was this thick coil of metal wire sticking out of the frame and straining against the piano lid. The loud bang must have been due to the wire striking the piano lid.

And was it possibly due to my, ahem, brute strength? Probably not. The piano was pretty old though still in tune and the varying humidity within the chapel must have contributed to the weakening of the piano string. But still, I had broken a string. Ha-ha.

Anyway, it was some weeks before the church finally had that string replaced. So whenever I had to play "City of God" again, instead of playing it in the original key of E I would transpose it to E flat to avoid hitting the key with the broken string.