Rowan Vince plays the phenomenal opus 17 Fantasie of Robert Schumann, then is joined by composer Tim McKenry to destroy a piano with a sledge hammer, bolt cutters, and digital effects.
The destruction features Tim's original music for piano in the process of being destroyed, entitled Stroein, commissioned especially for this event. There is a complete recording of Stroein here.
This concert, part of the "VIR" series, is a rough attempt to portray Schumann's transformation from romantic genius to tragic madness. Schumann permanently damaged his hands by sleeping with a self-designed finger stretching device clamped between the fingers. He voluntarily committed himself to a lunatic asylum for the last two years of his life for fear of harming his wife Clara.
Schumann's Fantasie op. 17 is possibly his most famous large scale piano piece. It is massive in its conception and according to Franz Liszt, to whom it is dedicated, represents the spirit and career of Beethoven.
The wholesale destruction of an irredeemable old upright piano is representative of both the self incarceration and the ultimate emancipation of the tortured artist. Microphones leading from the piano to a digital effects unit distort the natural sounds of piano death by violence. Professor Longhair's Gone So Long is performed on the candidate destructee before the demolition commences.
As you can see in the video footage, the destruction itself is quite affecting and not without humour. The show generated a surprisingly positive and uplifting feeling amongst the audience and the performers.
At the conclusion the audience was invited to take away the pieces and very little was left for me to tidy up afterwards. Apart from collectables the pieces have become an ivory necklace, a hanging mobile, and a table.
Sarah Coull, 6 October 2009. Buzzcuts.
The first thing I noticed was the cage like fencing around the front of two pianos, one a beautiful black grand, and the other an old, shabby upright. Against the fence, half a dozen tools were lined up menacingly. It was starting to feel like we were trapped in some warped horror musical.
Enter Rowan Vince, the least likely looking serial killer, who sits at the grand and begins to play.
A Melbourne based pianist, composer and software engineer, Vince has been awarded the Melbourne Fringe Festival Music Award in both 2005 and 2008 for his unusual piano concerts. Vince in Recital: Schumann and the Art of Piano Destruction involves a performance of Schumann's "Fantasie" op. 17., followed by the destruction of an old piano; a strange metaphor for life of Schumann, which Vince describes as "passionate, mad, painful, and way too short."
Vince performs Schumann's epic half-hour piece with power, grace, and a poetic touch to the keys. The audience is helplessly drawn into the music as it pushes and pulls and pushes. Illustrative of the Romantic era in which this work is from, it is strong and dreamy, dark and joyous. Vince sustains this intensity for the entire performance.
As if he could feel the audience writhing in anticipation, Vince then moves onto the old 1920s German piano. He says we should feel no remorse in the destruction, assuring us that he only uses pianos that are incapable of restoration. Vince plays Professor Longhair's funky "Gone so Long", giving the instrument a final hurrah.
Then, donning protective goggles, Vince begins to play "Stroein" (old English for "Destroy"), a piece composed for the concert by Tim McKenry. Simultaneously, Vince's assistant on stage begins to bash the piano, with the use of saws, sledge hammers, bolt cutters and brute force. You quickly understand why this is in part an improvisation piece, as the performers have no more idea than the audience as to how things will unfold.
At first there are gasps, even a cry of "nooo!" from one woman in the crowd. The shock and alarm of the action ripples through the audience, as the men swap roles between playing and destroying the piano. The hacking, sawing, knocking and hammering create a smorgasbord of sounds, which are reverberated and synthesised to increase dramatic effect.
It is a strange but enthralling experience watching such destruction happen before your eyes. Being a pianist myself, I first watch in horror as they brutally destroy the instrument; by the end however, I was relishing the spectacle, even cheering them on. The audience became addictively captivated as to what would happen as different parts of the piano smashed, banged, shattered, and cracked.
When there was nothing left to destroy, Vince and his sidekick, both out of breath, walk out, leaving the floor littered with musical debris. He later invited people to explore the piano carcass and take a piece home with them, which many did eagerly.
This was one of those experiences you rarely get, and will remember for a long time to come. The beautiful music, juxtaposed with the violent destruction of the piano was so effective, alive, and somehow greatly inspiring. I took a piano key home, admiring one tiny part of a vast instrument, and was suddenly more appreciative of the piano itself, not just the music it produced in its lifetime.
Lin Tan, 12 October 2009. lin-tan.com. The original is here.
I’ve always imagined piano recitals to be filled with an audience ‘rah-rah’ to the brim and a pianist decked out in a tux, waving like the queen to the crowd (See: irrelevant information).
Between the audience and the stage is a fenced-up barrier. Within the fence, two pianos – an upright, weathered one and a stunning black baby grand. Surrounding the instruments are sledge-hammers, saws, bolt-cutters and other weapons of mini destruction, which stick out like barb-wire in a field of roses. Cue Rowan Vince, an unlikely looking concert pianist, more regular bloke you’d bump into at your local – skinny, boyishly-charming, awkward, and seemingly down-to-earth. In 2005 and 2008, he won the Melbourne Fringe Festival Music Award for his quintessential piano concerts called, “Vince in Recital” (VIR).
This year, his ‘VIR: Schumann & The Art of Piano Destruction’ is no different. The show mirrors the self-explanatory title, i.e. a 30 minute-long recital of Schumann’s “Fantasie” op. 17 followed by piano destruction, which funnily enough, doesn’t take half as long as the solo performance.
Schumann composed the piece as a metaphor for the life of Beethoven, and if you’re not already swept away by the romantic suggestion of the analogy, then let me entice you with a little quote from the program handout pertaining to his life: “Initially stormy and broody, subsequently strident and offbeat, and finally peaceful and beautiful”.*
“Fantasie” op. 17 is a composition of extremes. It’s playful and solemn, determined and mellow, joyous and sad – an epic poem played out in song. Short pauses between the recital mirroring a break in each stage of life.
From the very moment Vince plays the first assertive note of the piece, the audience was immediately entranced. An inner passion seemed to channel right through his fingers, flooding the room with that dimly-lit feel. The music blankets the theatre and begins to sound like a liquid dream that tugs at you like the melancholic departure of a loved one. Because of the dynamic nature of the piece, the audience is constantly being drawn in a flux-like push and pull, which is both delightfully addictive and stirringly moving. At times, I wished to be under his piano, feeling the weight of each resounding key to shut out the noise around us, and in particular, the lady two tables to the right, who half-way through the piece starting balling – literally.
Vince’s recital is nothing short of beautiful and awe-inspiring. The performance is a vivid musical journey that invites the audience in to witness the soundtrack of someone’s life, expressing both raw emotions and telling tales.
Now for the Art of Piano Destruction, designed as a metaphor for the life of Schumann (“passionate, mad, painful and way too short”). The decrepit-looking piano had its first layer of wood removed, so that it was standing bare-chested towards the audience revealing its intricate inner-workings and internal organs.
As if performing an eulogy, Vince provides a brief history of the upright piano, where it has been and why it is here now. He assures us that the piano is no longer restorable and in fact, David Farrell, assistant to the destruction and also a piano technician, often gets paid to take these inoperable instruments away. Perhaps there was a brief sigh of relief from the crowd, but I didn’t hear it. Breathing one last breath into the soon-to-be-dead piano, Vince tickles it with one final song – a honky-tonk one.
Barely at the end of the piece, Farrell begins to menacingly rub down the edges of the instrument with a steel sanding tool. Fixed to the top of the piano is a microphone, which echoes the resounding noise of the destruction process. When the honky-tonk song is finished, Vince plays another, “Stroein” (old English for “Destroy), a score composed by Tim McKenry specifically for the performance.
Whilst Vince plays Stroein, Farrell lifts a sledgehammer above his head before throwing his weight down against the piano keys with a sheer brutal and violent force. It feels almost awkward to see that kind of rage unleashed. There are some sounds of laughter but mostly it is silent with brief expressions of shock. With half the keys gone, Vince gets up and begins hacking and sawing at the piano. Inserting a long steel pipe behind the metal strings of the instrument, Vince began to peel the metallic ropes away, the plucking noise causing a high-pitched twang that reverberated eerily across the theatre. Another swift blow, and the piano is entirely fractured.
Though you know it is going to happen, the ferocious sound of the piano copping one in the head produces a shuddering surprise. Not before long, the piano is dead.
The appeal of Schumann and the Art of Piano Destruction rests simply on the fact that it is a novelty performance – how often do you get the chance to see someone destroy a piano? There is no ‘meaning’ behind it per se. Sure he mentioned that it was a metaphor for the life of Schumann, but he also said that he’d always wanted to destroy a piano. And though the process was an entirely improvised performance, it was undoubtedly a pre-conceived, pre-planned act. The history of rock ‘n’ roll is dotted with rage-infused (or drug-infused) acts of musical instrument destruction. Jimi Hendrix for one was especially renowned for smashing his guitar. The difference is, there was a sense of authentic spontaneity behind Hendrix’s ‘art of destruction’, not so much in Vince’s. Having said that, I don’t mean to take away from what was an exceptionally engaging performance, i.e. WHAT A SHOW!
At the end of the microcosmic demolition, Vince invited the audience to take a piece of the piano home. Some people took a piece, others took a bag full (Side note: what does one do with piano debris?). I took a black key that might or might not have been a G sharp. My plus one took the pedal. When everyone walked out of the venue carrying bits of the instrument – we laughed. I couldn’t believe we were carrying a piano in our pockets. We laughed some more.
To me, the second half of the show was like watching the mighty fall. To see the majestic piano split and break into shards was certainly an overwhelming experience. Later, to tread on the shattered pieces and cradle in your hands simple parts of this wonderfully complicated intricate design was both peculiar and intriguing, and without a doubt, truly memorable.
Indeed it was a destruction, but I walked away with a new found appreciation for the piano and left contemplating instead, the art of its construction.