Camera: iPhone 17 Promax.

An upright piano. Actually a slightly akimbo piano. The sort that probably sat in someones home, or in a school.

At first it was cared for, cleaned and dusted and visited every once in a while by the piano tuner.

All the music that was played on it. Can you imagine?
Perhaps a girl learning her first chords, or a teacher singing to the class, or the soundtrack to the highschool production of Pirates of Penzance, or a refrigerator technician who on his off days had a passion for Chopin, or the random dissonance of a cat walking the keys.

Thousands of keypresses, millions.

But gradually, the music unravelled. Some keys started sticking, the piano tuner was ghosted and the sound acquired a tinny honky-tonk edge. And then it was sold. And then it was mostly ignored. And someone dropped a lamp and broke C#. And one of the wheels broke off and it was propped up on some books. And later it was sold again.

And.

One day. One time. The last note was played.

Here it is today.
And I think you will agree, there is still a certain beauty in this thing. All that music, the history dormant in the sum of its parts,… a musical score frozen in form and only slightly captured in a photo.

But if you stood before it you would feel it. I am sure.
A ruined piano, that still resonates with the quiet music. The stillness of the space between the notes.