A long while back, I wrote about the piano donated to the Kitty and Cadaver jewellery project by Eddie Tichelaar of abc Pianos. The piano is warped beyond repair or salvation and would otherwise have been chopped up for firewood.
At the time, however, I hadn’t found a craft jeweller to work with, so the piano (maker unknown, but Eddie says it dates from 1900-1915) has been sitting in Jess Harris’s shed since 2013 waiting for its chance.
Well, not only does the project now have three craft jewellers (Hello Breanna, Amy and KRin!) but Jess is about to move house, so dismantling the piano has become an urgent matter.
Coordinating our schedules so we could all be at the shed at the same time was difficult, so Jess and I decided to make a start one afternoon after she’d finished work for the day.
Here are a few things you need to know about dismantling a piano.
- It’s best not to do it on a winter afternoon when you lose the light at about 5pm.
- If you have to dismantle a piano on a winter afternoon after 5pm, it would really help if there was an electric light in the shed where the dismantling is to take place.
- If you don’t have any such electric light, some candles would be helpful.
- Tealight candles are not much good for the purpose.
- With or without adqueate light, having the right tools is essential.
- A simple flat-head screwdriver and a rubber mallet are not really the right tools for the whole job, though they’ll do in a pinch to get started.
- Dismantling a piano in the dark by tealight on a cold winter evening with only a flathead screwdriver and a mallet is not the brightest idea Jess and I have ever had.
- Once you get over how cold it is and how difficult the task ahead, dismantling a piano in the dark by tealight on a cold winter evening with only a flathead screwdriver and a mallet is a pretty bloody funny.
Which is to say, Jess and I laughed a lot that evening while trying to work out how to dismantle the bloody thing. Some parts are held together with screws but I knew that other bits were held in by clever carpentry alone. The trick was working out which bits were which. By tealight candle in a dark shed.
Did I mention the shed was full of straw? Because one of Jess’s flatmates was rather ill-advisedly given a sheep as a pet-come-lawnmower.
Yes, you did read that correctly.
It’s illegal to keep a sheep in the suburbs like that – even in Boronia – so the sheep was re-homed. The hay was not.
Given how ridiculously ill prepared we were, Jess and I managed to pull apart a good deal of the piano, including the individual keys – before the competent people arrive.
Breanna and Amy were the competent people. They had pliers and a spanner and several clues about how to dismantle a piano.
They also discovered the electric light switch in the shed.
Yes, there was a light all along. Jess, who has lived in that house for a year, never knew it was there.
There’s still a bit to take apart – piano wire and metal pegs, mainly, but also more wooden panels and maybe the pedals, if the craft team can think of something to do with them.
We’re also discussing how to use the ivory from the piano keys. As it’s a very old piano, we can legally re-use it, though we’d need paperwork to get the permit for it to be take or sold overseas (ivory being, very properly, illegal otherwise). There are some ethical issues to consider though, so we’re talking about what approach we might take.
Shop at our KittyandCadaver Etsy store! New jewellery just added!
Interested in donating to or being part of the Kitty Jewellery Project? Visit the jewellery project page.
New to Kitty and Cadaver? Find out about the project in About Kitty and Cadaver or start from chapter one at Read the Book.