While the tuner was working on my piano (somewhere in between all the TING-TING-TING-crank-crank-crank- TING-TING-TING-crank-crank-crank), he told me all about how he also restores antique pianos. He’s worked on pianos owned by famous composers and pianos from famous locations. Unique pianos. One-of-a-kind pianos. He knows people that collect them. They’re worth thousands and thousands of dollars. And so on and on…. I listened, even though after two hours of tuning, my ears were ringing.
When he was finally done, I put a stack of ragtime books back on top of the piano. He gave it a rather sharp look, narrowed eyes and all, as if I had just produced a stack of offensive reading material for public display.
And he said, “If you like history, you should stick to classical music. That’s where the real history is.”
At the time, this confused me. It sounded a bit strange, but I couldn’t figure out why. And since he obviously had more experience, I wasn’t going to argue. Was I supposed to be ashamed of my ragtime habit?
This statement stuck with me for months. I’ve got no problem with classical music. My piano teacher makes me play plenty of Bach and Handel. I have several pieces by Chopin memorized. But what was wrong with ragtime? It’s fun!
Ever played a Bach invention? That is not my definition of fun. That’s more like exercising or eating brussels sprouts. (On the other hand, I’ve had people tell me they love playing Bach inventions… To each their own, I guess.)
The more I thought about it, the less sense the tuner’s statement made. What is “real history”? Why is classical music “real history”? Why is ragtime not “real history”? Who decides what “real history” is? If ragtime music isn’t “real history”, what is it?
I finally reached a conclusion. My piano tuner is a snob.
Different people may have different tastes in music, but Scott Joplin was just as real as Bach and Chopin. And his contribution to the field of piano music is no less valuable.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to enjoy a variety of music from many different composers and historical periods. Including ragtime.
And I can’t wait to show the tuner my recently-acquired Scribner Radio Music Library book set from 1946. My piano teacher just sold them to me. (Her dad bought them when she was a kid, probably in 1946 when they came out. She’s old enough not just to remember Pearl Harbor, she’s still mad about it!) This nine-volume set of red books, in fantastic condition for their age, now stand on top of my piano, next to my stack of ragtime.
Of course, the tuner would probably say that 1946 isn’t old enough to be called “real history” either.