Today, I went to the Portland Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education to see an installation called The Burned Piano Project: Creating Music Amidst The Noise of Hate. (Photos below)
Here's the description from their website:
Over several weeks in spring 2022, as lilacs bloomed in Portland, a mosque, a Black-owned restaurant and two synagogues were vandalized. Around that time, a family's home, which also was a Jewish organization's mailing address, was destroyed by arson in the middle of the night.
We are not naming the family for their protection.
In their home stood a cherished grand piano, passed down through three generations. The family could not bear to see the piano tossed into a dumpster along with most of their belongings. Instead, bolstered by community, they resolved to face destruction, waste, and hate with creativity, art, and love.
The Burned Piano Project: Creating Music Amidst the Noise of Hate began with one family's experience of antisemitism and reminds us of the larger context of rising hate crimes in Portland and the United States today. This exhibition celebrates how community can promote healing, build empathy, and grow understanding.
Textile and found-object sculptor Bonnie Meltzer created Because They Were Jewish, a tapestry with piano strings. She also transformed the wooden key cover and more piano strings into Threads of Connection, a sculpture with an interactive component. Composer and performance artist Jennifer Wright transformed elements of the ruined Steinway into a fantastical new instrument, The Glass Piano. Wright will perform multiple concerts of the original music she has composed for this one-of-a-kind creation in the gallery over the course of the exhibition. Wright's second work in the exhibit, As Many As There Are Seeds in a Pomegranate, creates a ritual space around the piano's massive cast iron harp. Almost every part of the burned piano was incorporated into the artworks on exhibit, including two works, Lifecycle and Pushing the Pedal, contributed by family members.
Both artists were there—and Jennifer Wright played the glass piano. The story, the artwork and the performance significantly moved me—I could feel my heart well up as I stood before Bonnie's piece, Because They Were Jewish, made of the strings and tuning pegs.
Jennifer created the glass piano using the keys from the grand piano that, by some miracle, weren't damaged in the fire; she said the only reason was that the key cover was closed. She spoke of pianos and how they're made, the knowledge necessary for disassembling them, the amount of pressure on the strings, and the differences between upright and grand pianos. She mentioned a documentary made by Steinway called Note by Note. It was fascinating.
Not being Jewish, Jennifer kept trying to schedule meetings for Saturdays to no avail until the family reminded her that Saturday was the Sabbath, a day of rest. There were two outcomes once she learned this tidbit: one, she realized the importance of a day of rest (hello, I'm dating myself, but I remember when everything was closed on Sundays—I miss that planned weekly break and having to think about your needs in advance for the day), Jennifer is still working on scheduling those days into her life, And two, she wrote a song for the glass piano called “The Difficulty With Saturday.”
Jennifer also told us about Grandma Bess, what her piano meant to her and the family, and how every generation had played it. Bess loved Liberace; there's a lovely photo of her at her piano with a candelabra. Learning about Bess led to the lively piece “I Wish I'd Had Glamorous Ancestors.”
One thing that struck me was a quotation on the wall that reads, “The only recognizable feature of hope is action.” And then, in all caps below it, “ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER.”
I'm going to bring this back to my novel right now. It's called G.O.D., an acronym for Galactic Order of Demonstration. It struck me when I saw what was written on the wall that while my book is humorous and irreverent, one of the deeper messages is that you demonstrate your beliefs, wisdom and intentions with your actions. There is a well-known saying among writers: Show, don't tell. This is good advice for living—use the gifts you've been given. Be a demonstration for the highest good—show don't tell—talk doesn't cook rice.