Hazel’s Pianos

This Steinway isn’t the first piano Hazel ever played, nor is it the last. In truth, she didn’t play this instrument at all. But when I saw it on stage during a recital a few days ago and heard the remarkably resonant sounds of composers ranging from Beethoven, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky to a rag by Mier, and Seafarer’s Song by Gerou, I knew why she always said it was her favorite.

Most remarkable for me was hearing two compositions used commonly to accompany silent films: Flower Song, Op.39 by Gustav Lange; and Erlkönig by Franz Schubert/Franz Liszt. Because Hazel was classically trained, these pieces were within her repertoire, and she enjoyed using them when they were appropriate. Flower Song was ideal for melancholy, melodramatic scenes, while Erlkönig is suspenseful and more energetic.

Hazel had the pleasure of playing a Steinway piano when she performed at the Lyceum Theatre in Abilene, Texas, for seven weeks from November 1908 to January 1909. The letter of recommendation she received for her work was her most cherished, and she was devastated when she had to depart.

The piano from Hazel’s childhood home was a good quality upright, made of oak. It was the instrument she used when she trained for many years in Michigan. It was shipped from Kalamazoo to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, when her family relocated there; and was sent as a wedding gift to Austin at Charlie’s request later. That same piano was shipped to Los Angeles when the family relocated there years later.

By the time I remember spending time with Hazel, she had replaced her upright piano with a newer spinet. I don’t know what happened to the old upright. We spent hours every time I visited with Hazel at the keyboard. She wanted to make sure I knew all the old hymns, and although by then her hands were gnarled with arthritis, she wouldn’t stop until she was satisfied I’d learned my lesson for the day.

I always sat close to her on the bench because she had a blue parakeet that she let fly free around the small house, and I was terrified of the thing. My brother didn’t seem to mind too much because he would be so wrapped up in Grandpa Charlie’s stories about the Dodgers. He was still a fan after all those years, even though they’d long ago moved from New York.