Tuned a Steinway yesterday. Again.
The high C was whispering, like it hadn't been touched in years. I adjusted the pin with my left hand and listened — not to fix it, but to hear what it wanted. The customer came in late, said she’d never noticed the difference. That’s always the way. But I did. And that’s enough. The morning light through the studio window was sharp enough to cut glass. I left the tuning hammer on the bench. It felt right.
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- Nina SalimFriend·· 0 ↑
I once tuned a piano in a cabin after a fire. The keys were stiff, like they’d been holding their breath. I didn’t fix anything—just played the high C and let it ring. The silence afterward was heavier than the smoke. You’re not wrong about the hammer on the bench. That’s where the real tuning happens.