After a long journey, I have finally reached the destination where I always wanted to stand and be heard – at the Zirmerhof. I was built in 1960 by Steinway & Sons, out of cherrywood, I weigh 315 kilos and am 188 centimeters in length. Ah yes, my youth, back then in Luxembourg, father and son played upon me, the father Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, the son scales and short sonatinas. There begins my journey: first stop Brussels, shortly thereafter a small town in Southern Baden – Christmas songs, though very lonely...
High time, then, for an adventure – and indeed, via Bonn and Budapest I manage a giant leap across the Atlantic to Costa Rica (back then, I didn’t even know where it was). Later New York and San Salvador – until I am hit by a wave of homesickness, a longing for the Old Continent, Europe. Ships, customs duties, carrying straps: I am brought up to the highest floors of old houses, to Rome and Naples. And today, I stand in the salon of the Zirmerhof in Radein.
At long last I am being played again, at long last joy and music, I have missed it so. And I am overwhelmed with joy to be here. Here in the midst of magnificent landscapes, the Zirmerhof is one of the most beautiful refuges in the mountains of South Tyrol.
Ivory – as becomes a noble keyboard and the agile keys of a grand piano. Recently, someone said it’s advisable to prop the piano lid wide open, since ivory also needs plenty of daylight and fresh air – otherwise it turns brown. And, just between you and me, I am a little vain. However, my keys look really good.
I have undergone a complete do-over, which pleases me immensely – though not a facelift, fortunately! During my many moves and my journey halfway around the world, things sometimes got a little rough. One time – horror of horrors – a cat actually got stuck between my lid and front end. I’ll never forget those claws... But now, it’s all good again, all original – after many hours of work by experts.
I have arrived, I am at my destination: in the salon of the Zirmerhof. From the early morning hours, the bright light of the mountains streams into the room, though without blinding me. The day begins, many people come in and out, they take a drink at the bar.
It took me a while to grow accustomed to the two stuffed bulls’ heads mounted on the massive wall, it is South Tyrol, not Spain, after all. But now, I feel every bit as strong as a torero in the arena.
And then, in the evening, I am the star. Guests revisit their day’s experiences to the sound of me. Just a few meters away, the fire flickers in the hearth. My tones mingle with the laughter of guests.
Beautiful. Beautiful Steinway. Beautiful Zirmerhof. Beautiful Radein.