Eager pianists need a place to vent, express themselves

During the Cultural Revolution in China, Liu Shi Kun was placed
in prison for playing piano (a Western instrument). After seven
years without touching a piano, Liu Shi Kun still played like a
master, because he practiced in his head if not with his
fingers.

While UCLA is not so much a prison, the availability of pianos
at UCLA rivals that of Liu’s jail cell.

I’ve heard person after person tell me about how they wish
to play but have no access. They talk about finding a piano to play
as if they were Dorothy wanting to meet the Wizard and fly back to
Kansas. When I tell them I play keyboards at the music building,
Schoenberg Hall, their eyes widen as if the mere presence of pianos
on campus makes their longing that much more fulfilled.

Playing piano is a cross-campus activity. It’s often joked
that the UCLA Philharmonic is half music students and half biology
students. And for good reason, smart South Campus people realize
that the act of fingers on 88 white keys hammering steel strings
can help one express oneself, reduce stress, and make lots of crazy
noises.

But there is another camp of those who wish to ban pianos from
existence. When I lived in Dykstra, I once traveled to the piano
only to find that its internal hammers had been cut off (quite
neatly too I must add). The piano was dumb and mute, and I
don’t doubt some art-hating South Campus puritan was behind
it.

Sure, pianos are loud and I’ve been chastised more than
once for playing at the Ackerman study lounge and interrupting
someone’s nap. I’m not suggesting pianos need to be
causing noise in the quietest study corners.

But we are not in a prison (at least we keep telling ourselves
that). Cultural exchange and artistic expression are presumably
some of the goals of a university, if not vital ones.

Part of the problem is funding, which South Campus hoards to
itself. Donations from Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency,
rich folks, and corporations among others finance the hundreds of
thousands of dollars of lab equipment that makes buying a grand
piano seem like buying eggs at a supermarket.

Certainly labs produce advancements in science and prestigious
journal publications, but great piano facilities also have a
tendency to breed great pianists, which are no less prized in
society (save for the occasional Liberace).

The Schoenberg facilities house old pianos, sometimes terribly
out of tune and missing certain keys. They are limited to music
students, with non-music students only allowed to use the worst
pianos provided they get a practice card through enrollment in a
music-related class (one reason to join a UCLA choir).

Before you say that pianos are expensive equipment and require
great efforts of security and tuning to maintain them, similar
conditions exist in the CLICC Labs, where expensive equipment
(computers) are used by all people, provided they take a short
acceptable use session (if memory serves).

Since pianos are such a big investment, having an orientation
for acceptable piano use is fine.

Security is a hypocritical issue if those unpoliced South Campus
labs of expensive equipment are open 24 hours a day to students
with keys, usually those working closely with the lab’s
professor.

Yet, a security guard patrols the piano rooms of Schoenberg and
will promptly throw you out lest you create unapproved musical
expression.

Not everyone needs to be admitted to Schoenberg, but a simple
test of musical skill (one is already implemented for new music
students) could allow more than a few people who are capable of
adding to the musical life of our campus.

But even elite music students are thrown out of the building at
midnight while South Campus students work comfortably until dawn
discovering things.

Imagine being told that you can’t read books or do lab
work into the wee hours. That is the equivalent of telling a
pianist to give up playing at the nocturnally early hour of
midnight. Unlike what South Campus believes about North Campus
being full of crap, you can’t B.S. a piano performance.

For all you future Tori Amoses, Elton Johns, and Van Cliburns,
remember well that UCLA tried to squash your potential.

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