The following is a guest blog post by Mojie Crigler, a writer/editor based in Cambridge, MA.
As I watched the piano come in through the window, I thought, Hello, old friend.
“Old” is right: it’s a 1916 Steinway upright, a present from my great-grandfather to my great-grandmother. When my parents moved to New York City in the sixties, the piano was shipped across the country and hoisted—by a rope hanging over the roof—to their fifth-floor apartment on 16th Street.
My family is full of musicians, so I grew up with the sound of this piano. Like any instrument, it has its own character, which I got to know through its tone and volume and the feel of its keys and pedals.
When I inherited the piano, it helped decide where I lived. A first-floor apartment or elevator building was no big deal. But moving to a third-floor walk-up presented a challenge. There were lot of stairs and the turn onto the second-floor landing was tight.
I called Allston Piano Moving Company, which is part of Gentle Giant. Getting the piano inside was a puzzle they wanted to solve. They asked for measurements and pictures of the piano, front door, stairwell, and hallways. One of their guys came over and checked out the windows, to see whether the piano could come in by crane. This was looking like the only option. The turn in the stairwell wouldn’t fit the four movers needed to carry the piano. Using just three movers wasn’t safe.
I considered finding the piano another home. I tried on the idea of not having it. After all, I’m not a professional pianist. Was it worth all this trouble? How badly did I want to play? Badly enough. If there was a way to get the piano in, I wanted to do it.
On the day of the move, Rooty came with the crane. Rooty—Gentle Giant’s crane guru—had come previously to scope out the windows, trees, where to position the crane. The entire window and its casing had to be taken out. Just removing the window panes was a half-inch too narrow for the piano to fit. There was a mix-up with the cars parked in front of the building, but Rooty saw a way around this snafu. He turned the crane around and by the time the guys arrived with the piano, he had tested the path of the crane, which had to get around and over a tree. Then my beloved piano, wrapped in a moving blanket like a present, was brought out of a truck and strapped onto the crane.
The four movers, unfailingly polite and friendly, came upstairs. Up, up, up went the piano. A little crowd gathered on the sidewalk to watch, filming on their phones. It was quite a sight, a piano lifted as easily as a toy, above the trees, almost as high as some of the neighboring houses. The guys guided the piano in through the window. They put it on a dolly and rolled it into place.
Heirloom pianos are members of the family, in their own way. They have a distinct voice, a large footprint, they’ve been there seemingly forever, and sometimes they’re challenging. Thank you, Gentle Giant, for treating my piano with such good care, for helping me hold onto it.
Here are some recommendations for a happy piano move:
Find a mover who will take time to strategize the safest way to move your piano.
Note any scratches, wear, or abnormalities to the body of your piano before you move. Take pictures. Also, make sure you’re clear on what insurance you have on the instrument.
As soon as the piano is in your new place, get it tuned and start playing!