Merriman's Piano Store A Place Where Music is Saved

by Cynthia Connell Davis

Stephen Merriman, drummer/jazz musician and founder of Merriman's Playhouse, likes to call his business "the piano adoption center."

"The pianos," he says, "are the whole other critter here. The two -- playing music and 'repairing, rescuing, tuning, getting pianos back into homes' -- they became symbiotic."

And yet there was a time when nothing was further from Stephen's mind than repairing pianos.

"Then I met a guy. . .I was trying to find out where I fit in with music."

Last October I was sitting at the beautiful round antique oak table at Merrimans' Playhouse and Piano Store, listening to Stephen Merriman tell the story of how this unique place came into being. He spoke about knowing he was a drummer from the time he was born. He spoke about the difficulties that musicians -- himself chief among them -- suffer as they search for a place to play (see my article in the previous issue of Pan-0-Ply Michiana). Interwoven with that story is Stephen's story of the piano business -- the business which occupies half of the building (at 1211 Mishawaka Ave., South Bend).

"More than 30 years ago," Stephen says, "I was trying to find out where I fit in with music. I wasn't fitting in very well." He was in Boulder, Colorado. A friend wanted to buy a piano, so they went to a piano store.

Peter Knauer, Composer

Stephen had traveled to many cities. He'd enjoyed some success as a drummer for a while and then, not. He lived in Los Angeles, Santa Fe, New York City, Denver. It was in Boulder that he found jazz AND Peter Knauer, a German man who was composing very unusual music. Peter knew how to tune and "even regulate" pianos, so that a musician could play his compositions.

Peter was originally from Hamburg, Germany. He was about 30 years older than Stephen. He was trying to get to New York City, America.

How did a young man living in Hamburg, Germany, learn about American jazz? After the War, there were ambassadors of culture, and Peter was heavily influenced by Duke Ellington. Of course he knew Bach and Beethoven, too. He composed, and his music was quite dynamic. He moved to Canada and worked for a year at Heintzmann Piano Factory in Toronto. Stephen said that according to him, Peter worked in every section of the factory. He didn't only tune the pianos; he regulated the pianos to support his music -- he knew what he needed the pianos to do, as a composer. He felt he needed to be in New York, but after Toronto he went British Columbia. He brought his wife from Germany. At that time he was composing piano concertos furiously. Finally he went to L.A. He was trying to sell his work. He didn't sell a thing except he sold the theme song for the Montreal Expo (in 1964) to John Williams. John Williams bought it.

Peter developed a business arrangement with a man who wanted to get into the piano business. The man had money and knew nothing about pianos, and Peter knew pianos and had no money. They started a business called the Giant Piano Sale in L.A. It was very successful. Peter would work on the pianos and then about 4 times a year they would have the giant piano sale and sell the pianos.

Finally his wife and children decided that Peter should go to New York. The music he composed was inspired by frustration and hopelessness. He was heading for New York, and he stopped in Boulder, CO, and started up a piano business for awhile.

That was when a friend of Stephen's wanted to buy a piano.

On that fateful day when Stephen and his friend found themselves in Peter's piano store, Peter played an excerpt from one of his compositions, for this friend. Stephen was enchanted. Peter let him bring his drum set in there. "We played. It was rich with the agony and the ecstasy. It was complex and erratic. The rhythms kept shifting. I played with him. Most of it I was improvising."

Peter taught Stephen how to repair pianos, and they traveled together. First, they were in Boulder, Colorado. Stephen played drums as Peter played his compositions on the piano.

"We were trying to rescue pianos from the landfill and get them back under the hands of kids." And they were playing music together. "Peter's compositions defied description, defied labeling. I played with him, I learned some parts of his compositions, improvised some, and left open areas for improvising.

"We were struggling to find places to play. We started something we called The Spice of Life Neighborhood Party and Fair. It was like a flea market for innovative ideas. It worked for awhile. We would practice new music.

"We looked for people who understood enough of this music to recognize genius. You don't have to BE a genius to recognize genius. There are a whole bunch of people who haven't had the exposure to music. They don't know what is a valid idea. It's an incredible accomplishment to recognize genius. There is the genius, who does the composing, and there is the place where you play, and there are those who recognize that that is a valid idea."

"This," Stephen says, "we call 'sonic art.' "

Sonic Art

Take care of the music

You can get that close to falling off the edge

You can discover something new --

oblivion? or greatness? You're dancing at the edge --

"The piano business is more of an adoption service. . .we rescue, tame,

rehabilitate, rejuvenate, tune, move it back into a home, back in service. It's that Earth consciousness."

Since all the pianos are donated to Merriman's Piano Store, I look around at the rows of pianos, rescued, restored, and ready to place in a home. I see an upright piano exactly like the one my grandmother had. I say to Stephen, "These are storied pianos!"

He agrees immediately. "Oh yes! The ghosts [of performances past] are in the piano!"

"I have tuned pianos in daycare centers and taught kids how to play a storm, thunder and lightning, rain [he plays the storm, on the oak table --. his fingers run the length of the table and off, as if he's ripped the sound out of the cloud. Then he plays the rain, in a little square of the table, in front of him. He makes the sounds as he plays, like a kid making the noises of starting a motor] I have tuned pianos for people with Alzheimer's and they remembered songs and sang them.

"That's gotta be a little bit of a clue," he says, "as to why we're here. The piano is the blueprint of Western music. Someone who can appreciate it -- it's the form of expression, the form of communication. Rescue that piano from going to the landfill, clean it, repair it, tune it, sneak it back into a home. Even if no one can play it, it's there to appreciate."

An article written several years ago, on Merriman's piano business, called him "the piano whisperer." Indeed, very term "fine tuning" repeats itself over and over in my mind as I listen to the mastery, love, and sensitivity with which he regards music, musicians, and their instruments.

"Get them safe; get them out of the landfill. . .both the pianos and the musicians. Create an environment this is WORTHY of them. They get so little respect. Create a place where they can get the respect they deserve."

Expanding to the spiritual level, in his characteristic way, he adds, "We're human beings. We live and die -- AND WE KNOW IT."

I reflect on the deep truth Stephen lives and teaches. It is up to each of us to search for and to create what AND WE KNOW IT means.