‘I never met anyone who didn’t play the piano until I was old enough to go out in the streets. In my childish brain everyone played the piano!’
What a luxury to have grown up ignorant to the fact that the general
Jo outside your front door can’t actually play a piano! It is enviable that
Daniel Barenboim, maestro pianist, had such grand delusions. Both his
parents were piano teachers and consequently only pianists infiltrated
his family home. Frankly, in growing up and venturing onto the streets,
that childish brain must have been reluctant to stray from those
early pearls.
In experiencing the full delights of Mr and Mrs Jo, wisdom must have
seemed scarcely worth attaining. Imagine that childish world where
everybody can play the piano! Our vocabulary naturally stripped back to
mere essentials like ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. When exploring our emotions the
need to exchange monotonous drones would be replaced by the
flourish of keys.
Rather than speculating and divulging into ‘What if’s’, we could
excitedly pound the ivory exclaiming our frustrations and wishes with less
communicable offerings. Like a lost elephant chatting to a monkey we could
exchange noises in a purer animalistic manner, ‘Dddd…dduuHHHH!’
replied by ‘Tttttti Taaa!’ Not hide behind a barrage of crudely slung together
words or continual plagiarism of others’ phrases. Our sounds would be
individual, unique and beautiful! Well, at least in the outlook afforded
by Barenboim’s once childish brain.
Sadly, an adult’s brain would perhaps unravel the ideology of a world where
pianos talk; an adult’s brain would simply suggest that a new language would
be formed based on a dictionary of songs. To express love we would all
perhaps ceremoniously tinkle the notes of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get It On’
and, when scared, thump out the theme tune to ‘Jaws’.
Common sense would propose that life would become like a silent movie,
with a tiresome soundtrack rammed down one’s throat and only when
engaged by an accomplished pianist would life’s score grow less gruelling.
As with language, only a subject of interest would titillate.
For Jo and I, our tedious paraphrasing would just be replaced my equally
tenuous vibrations, ‘tut!’ to an adults brain and ‘DuDuDu Tttti Ta Ti Duh!’
Headlines are reactions, thoughts and warblings
on curious newspaper headlines.
