NUTS & BOLTS: A How-To For Homeowners : Buying Piano: Remember, It Is Meant to Be Played

It’s not going to do any good, but I’m going to say it anyway because it’ll make me feel like my duty has been done:

Don’t buy a piano because you need something big to stick in the corner.

Get a meat locker. Get a Franklin stove. Get a TV the size of Geraldo Rivera’s ego. But if you’re not going to play the thing, and if all you really want is something pretty to dust, don’t, don’t, don’t get a piano.

OK, I’ve served art. Now, on to commerce.

Let’s say your kid is pestering you for piano lessons, or you don’t think you can stand another year of life on this mortal coil without learning how to play “Great Balls of Fire” just like Jerry Lee, or you really, actually, truly know how to play the Chopin “Black Key” etude. Let’s say, in other words, that as a potential piano owner, you’re legit.

Perhaps the first thing you should consider, then, is the fact that a piano isn’t a car. You’re not going to buy it this year and trade it in the next when a slicker model comes along (ideally, anyway). A piano, said Gary Goldman, the secretary-treasurer of Field’s Pianos and Organs in Garden Grove, is an item you buy for the long haul.

“Normally,” he said, “it’s a lifetime investment. It’s something you might have around for your kids someday. So it’s a good idea to invest in the best you can possibly afford.”

New pianos of “lesser quality,” he said, start at about $2,000 and go up from there to about $5,000. Generally, these are spinets, a type of piano with short strings and a short sounding board that stand next to a wall. In ascending order of height, console, studio and upright pianos are similar to a spinet, but their longer strings and sounding boards make them taller and give them a more substantial tone quality.

The nearest thing to an economic rule of thumb in the world of pianos probably is this: Bigger is usually better and therefore more expensive. A 9-foot concert grand piano, for instance, makes that spinet in your den sound like a windup toy. That huge sounding board and those long, long strings produce clarity, brilliance and depth, and, when you start getting into the notes below the bass clef staff, the air in the room absolutely pulsates. Pros play them.

And they pay for them. The best of them cost tens of thousands of dollars. However, if you want a moderate-quality, 4-foot baby grand, you can find one that won’t get you out of four figures. And parlor grands, usually measuring from 5 to 6 feet in length, usually start at about $10,000 and top out at about $25,000. David Ida, the sales manager at Colton Piano and Organ in Santa Ana, said the parlor grand is the most popular size among buyers who have decided that a vertical piano just won’t do.

(Electric pianos, which now reproduce actual piano sounds without the familiar electronic residue through the use of digital technology, fill the smallest space of all, and a good one can be had for about $5,000.)

A second consideration is more personal: action. In the most general sense, the action of a piano is simply the way the key and hammer mechanisms work. For players, however, it is the incredibly delicate link between their bodies and the instrument.

“It’s what transforms our touch into music,” Goldman said. “And it’s kind of personal as to what (touch) each person wants to feel.”

There is, of course, only one way to find out what sort of action suits you, and that is to play a lot of pianos. If you’re a novice and are studying with a teacher, bring him or her along for an informed second opinion. The salesperson can offer suggestions, too. Ultimately, however, it’s you who must live with the touch of those keys day after day. So don’t rush.

Looks Don’t Count

You also have to live with the physical looks of the instrument. But please don’t let that be your principal reason for buying it. You can find instruments of various sizes and lengths that are woodworkers’ fantasies. You can find Plexiglas lids, high-gloss finishes, velvet finishes, antique white finishes, woods of nearly every color, filigree, fluting, inlaid trademarks in Gothic brass lettering, carvings that would make a Corinthian column look bland. Hardly any of it makes one jot of difference in how the piano sounds.

“The average person going out to buy a piano for the first time unfortunately doesn’t know much about it,” Goldman said. “So the first thing that catches their eye is the cabinet. Some people will try to sell you the cabinet more than the inner workings. They’ll build a cabinet and put a piano inside of it.”

Still, the piano that looks like a Faberge egg sometimes doesn’t get the biggest gee whiz. You want real physical drama? Check out the Bosendorfer Imperial concert grand. Made in Austria, it’s a behemoth 9 feet, 6 inches long and has eight extra keys tacked onto the left-hand end of the keyboard for augmented bass notes. It costs about $85,000. Now that’s a piano.

So let’s say you buy it. And in a couple of days, there in the middle of the room (assuming you can get it through the door) sits the piano of your dreams, lid raised, gleaming, inviting, absolutely pregnant with musical possibilities, a button-tufted, leather-upholstered bench begging you to settle into it and start hammering out Czerny. Just you and your King Kong Bosendorfer, forever.

And your piano tuner. If you want to continue to make beautiful music together, your piano is going to need to be tuned periodically. Goldman estimated that in the more forgiving climate of Southern California, a tuning every six to nine months should do it if you want to maintain optimum tone. Tuners, he said, charge between $50 and $80. Pianos also can be “voiced”--the tone made brighter or more mellow--at the player’s request.

Also, pianos don’t travel well. At least, they don’t hold a tune after being transported. And the transporting also involves a bit of expense: between about $50 and $80 to move one a distance up to around 30 miles, said Goldman, assuming there are no stairs involved. That costs extra.

My advice to anyone wrestling with the decision over whether to buy a piano is to succumb. Immediately. From what I can tell, buyer’s remorse among piano owners is rare, and the rewards are huge. You’ll find yourself being constantly drawn to the bench in your wanderings around the house. The musical challenges are endless, and playing is a natural tranquilizer. You can lose yourself at the piano.

And yes, it is a thing of beauty, even if it’s just sitting there silently. But if that’s all it does in your house, you’re better off turning your living room into a mushroom farm. To justify its existence, it must be played, and often.

A piano, after all, is about the only piece of furniture you can buy that comes with a moral obligation attached.