Nearly two centuries ago, Sébastien Érard made a name for himself designing and manufacturing a line of exquisite pianos that would bear his name. It just so happens that one of those pianos, after 6,000 miles of travel, and 140 years making of music, led me on an adventure through the secret bookshops of Lima, Peru. Here’s how it happened.

The piano’s journey

This piano embodies the legacy of Érard’s ingenious designs and dedication to craftsmanship. It was carefully assembled, with painstaking precision, way back in 1875 and emblazoned with the Érard family name. Only one year later (as I found through a little detective work), it was sold in Paris to a man by the name of Vicomte Marco del Pont.

It is currently unclear which particular member of the Marcó del Pont family purchased the piano, however he was likely related to Francisco Marcó del Pont, the final Spanish imperial governor in Chile, who was captured around 1917 and imprisoned in the struggle for Chilean independence.

Perhaps the Marcó del Pont family was able to maintain positive relations in Chile, enough so that the piano’s purchaser—or a descendent—oversaw the piano’s incredible journey across the sea, from France to the Chilean coast. I don’t yet know much about its life between then and now, except that at some point, a Chilean ambassador gave the piano away as a gift. This I was told by Carlota, the owner of the El Virrey bookstore in Lima, Peru, whose family was the recipient of said gift. I am touched by how this piano, a symbol of human creativity and camaraderie, rests quietly as a monument to reconciliation among different peoples.

This is where I came upon it in 2015, where it still stood. Flanked by legions of dusty hardcovers. Ready for a little TLC.

A chance discovery

I first met the piano back in October, near the beginning of my time in Peru. My wife was looking for books for her anthropological studies, so we hunted down this book shop, El Virrey. When we arrived, to our surprise, the piano was resting there magesticaly—waiting for us.

Pianos are artifacts. They’re creatures that have evolved and changed over many years. They hold stories and histories.

As noted in the previous post, during my first encounter at El Virrey I tried to talk to Carlota, who was running the shop, with my broken Spanish. Then, with a little interpretation from Diego, her friendly employee, I found out she was the daughter of the man who had received the piano from the Chilean ambassador.

I told her about my mission here with FPF, and she was excited by the idea, sharing what she knew of her incredible piano’s history. We bonded over music and books and the spirit of intercultural understanding. I wanted to fix this piano up for her. And it needed it. Badly.

Unfortunately, since I didn’t have my tools, and was leaving Lima the next day, I couldn’t tune it up just then. I promised I would return in November.

So I did.

Our reunion

I was excited to come back to Lima, so I could revisit El Virrey and the Érard, this time with my tools in tow.

When I finally got to the shop, neither Carlota nor Diego, the people I had previously spoken with, were there. Fortunately, Daniel, the employee on duty, was well aware of my project and my plans. So I happily got to work.

Here was the evidence, inside this intrepid instrument, like a living fossil.

The piano was in rough shape. It was out of tune, with a tired action, and full of the marks of its age. Still, I took my time and gave it the attention it needed. I disassembled things, section by section, and searching the insides, I found a masterpiece of design that was intriguing to explore. Though the piano’s action functions exactly like modern pianos, the particulars of implementation and structure are unique and fascinating.

Érard invented the repitition lever, the last major improvement to how the modern piano action functions, and made many other contributions to the development of pianos as we know them now. How intriguing to see the concepts he introduced implemented more directly as he envisioned them, using the materials and techniques available in this intermediate period. Here was the evidence, inside this intrepid instrument, like a living fossil. Who knows how long it had been since someone had seen these inner workings. I was honored.

Our adventures continue

My wife was still on the hunt for several rare books for her own work, and she became fast friends with the team running the shop. As I brought the piano back into tune, and started to wrap up, some new information came our way.

We thanked the swashbuckling piano that had brought us all here together.

Our friends, Diego and Daniel, told my wife that if she really wanted to dig deep into the stacks of elusive literature in Peru, there was more than just El Virrey. In fact, there were several secret book shops in town that we would never know existed. They were hidden in the shadows of neighborhoods that we shouldn’t visit alone at night.

And they offered to take us to them.

That evening, we found ourselves winding through clandestine roads and alleys, our guides ushering us into rooms lined from floor to ceiling with a panoply of printed gold. We pored over stacks and piles. We wondered at these nooks of Lima that visitors rarely find. We thanked the swashbuckling piano that had brought us all here together.

The keys to new connections

This is the heart of our ambassador program.

Sure, we tune pianos. That’s our gig. But we’re interested in so much more than that.

Pianos are artifacts. They’re creatures that have evolved and changed over many years. They hold stories and histories.

This is where I came upon it in 2015, where it still stood. Flanked by legions of dusty hardcovers. Ready for a little TLC.

Every time we come upon a new piano, prepared to perform a careful and caring surgery upon it, we also meet its owners. Its current owners, yes, of course, but also the ghosts of each previous owner, of everyone who previously touched its keys.

We find connections. Cultural connections. Global connections. Personal connections. We learn about literature and history and foreign diplomacy. Along the way, we learn a little bit about ourselves.

After 14 decades, this world-traveling piano is still having adventures. And its helping us to have some, too.

About this series: Floating piano has come to be internationally known, and thanks to the internet we’re getting inquiries worldwide about our top-rated apprenticeship program. This has inspired us to try to connect with international piano lovers in person via some transcontinental traveling. Eathan Janney, lead technician and founder of FPF will be visiting Peru to search for human connections through pianos. Meanwhile our star apprentices Daniel DiMaggio, Bimol Karmaker and Tom Erickson are manning the ship at home in NYC, ready to tune your piano to the highest standards.

As a “Goodwill” Ambassador, FPF assigns itself the task of connecting with piano owners in various locations and exploring the histories of their pianos. We will document these adventures and stories, and as a gesture of good will, offer to tune the pianos for free. Piano tuning is our business, but we are also fascinated with the non-transactional aspects of a piano tuning visit: the interaction with a piano owner, the sharing of music, the caring for an object that has a life history of its own. Music is a global phenomenon that exists outside of the physical, political, and national boundaries that may separate us. We would like to highlight these factors by making connections through pianos and sharing these stories with you.