An art exhibit and concert series creating beauty from the ashes of an arson fire.
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Listen to my interview about The Burned Piano Project with Dave Miller on Oregon Public Broadcasting's Think Out Loud radio show here! |
The Burned Piano Project:
Creating Music Amidst the Noise of Hate
In spring 2022, the Portland home of a Jewish family was destroyed by arson in the middle of the night. Their cherished grand piano, which was the pride and joy of matriarch Grandma Bess and had been passed down through three generations, was damaged beyond repair. The family could not bear to see Grandma Bess's piano tossed into a dumpster along with most of their belongings; instead, they reached out into the local community, hoping to find someone who could make creative reuse of some of the treasured piano's parts.
When they found me, we embarked on what eventually became a two-year artistic journey to reimagine "Grandma Bess' piano" as multiple works of fine art and one completely new art instrument, The Glass Piano. These efforts that culminated in a landmark, three-month public art exhibition and concert series at The Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education in downtown Portland, Oregon.
When they found me, we embarked on what eventually became a two-year artistic journey to reimagine "Grandma Bess' piano" as multiple works of fine art and one completely new art instrument, The Glass Piano. These efforts that culminated in a landmark, three-month public art exhibition and concert series at The Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education in downtown Portland, Oregon.
This marked my first experience as an exhibition curator and the first time that one of my art instruments (The Glass Piano) and an art installation (As Many As There Are Seeds in a Pomegranate (Harp Altar)) were displayed in a museum exhibition.
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 remarkable exhibition celebrates the immense potential of the arts to promote healing, build empathy, and grow understanding. It provides a powerful model of how a community can face destruction, waste, and hate with creativity, art, and love.
Major funding for this exhibition was provided by The Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education, the Oregon Arts Commission (OAC), the Regional Arts and Culture Council (RACC), the Zera Foundation, and Advantis Credit Union.
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 remarkable exhibition celebrates the immense potential of the arts to promote healing, build empathy, and grow understanding. It provides a powerful model of how a community can face destruction, waste, and hate with creativity, art, and love.
Major funding for this exhibition was provided by The Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education, the Oregon Arts Commission (OAC), the Regional Arts and Culture Council (RACC), the Zera Foundation, and Advantis Credit Union.
The Burned Piano after the arson fire.
The Glass Piano, created by Jennifer Wright.
A one-of-a-kind art instrument, The Glass Piano is built from part of the action of Bess' Steinway grand piano, a gold- and silver-leafed wood body, metal legs, acrylic "wings", and borosilicate glass rods as the sounding mechanisms.
Jennifer Wright standing in front of the entrance display she created for The Burned Piano Project exhibition, which combined the exterior case of Grandma Bess's grand piano with a multitude of small interior parts and strings.
In the family's own words:
"Life as we knew it was upended two years ago by a momentary conflagration of accelerant, wooden porch boards, and hate. We lost our family home, sense of connection, and treasured bits of daily existence. And we are some of the lucky ones. Each day, I wonder how people endure so much - being robbed of loved ones who are in a supermarket shooting one terrible day or buried under the rubble of their homes.
For me, a sense of waste has dominated this experience: watching the remains of a century old house, our children’s art, family photos, chanukiot, and other cherished belongings fill dumpster after dumpster; noting the uncountable hours, energy, and life-blood hemorrhaging out as we try to find and rebuild shelter, decipher the fractured criminal justice system, cope with fear and trauma, and haggle with industries who profit from disasters.
The Burned Piano Project came into existence because we could not bear to see Grandma Bess’ precious piano tossed into the dumpster. We put out a call for people to take parts of it for reuse. But this project emerged in ways we would not have dared to envision. Seeing the piano transformed from a burned and destroyed object into the foundations of new instruments, furniture, art, and beauty is a balm for the wounds of waste and loss.
We are grateful for all the ways that people have shared their care, creativity, time, and other resources with us. Building community is an act of resistance. Finding connectedness is an antidote to hate. We are strengthened in the joining of our stories."
(For their protection, the family has requested to remain anonymous.)
For me, a sense of waste has dominated this experience: watching the remains of a century old house, our children’s art, family photos, chanukiot, and other cherished belongings fill dumpster after dumpster; noting the uncountable hours, energy, and life-blood hemorrhaging out as we try to find and rebuild shelter, decipher the fractured criminal justice system, cope with fear and trauma, and haggle with industries who profit from disasters.
The Burned Piano Project came into existence because we could not bear to see Grandma Bess’ precious piano tossed into the dumpster. We put out a call for people to take parts of it for reuse. But this project emerged in ways we would not have dared to envision. Seeing the piano transformed from a burned and destroyed object into the foundations of new instruments, furniture, art, and beauty is a balm for the wounds of waste and loss.
We are grateful for all the ways that people have shared their care, creativity, time, and other resources with us. Building community is an act of resistance. Finding connectedness is an antidote to hate. We are strengthened in the joining of our stories."
(For their protection, the family has requested to remain anonymous.)
The Artworks
A view of the gallery entrance display and welcome table with the sculptural object "Pushing the Pedals" by an anonymous family member and "The Glass Piano" by Jennifer Wright to the right.
"The Glass Piano" (foreground) in the Solomon & Rosalyn Menashe gallery at OJMCHE. The Burned Piano Project video documentary, created by Jennifer Wright, plays on the wall to the right.
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The Glass Piano is both a work of art and a multi-capacity experimental instrument that I built by combining the action (keys, hammer and hammer mechanism) of Grandma Bess's Steinway grand - which, remarkably, still worked perfectly after the fire since the closed piano case had protected it - with a new, gold- and silver-leafed wooden resonant body, tuned borosilicate glass rods of varying lengths/diameters as sound producers, six diaphanous acrylic 'wings', and metal legs.
"As Many As There Are Seeds in a Pomegranate (Harp Altar)" by Jennifer Wright (floor installation, left) and "Threads of Connection" by Bonnie Meltzer (on wall, right).
A view of the gallery from the idealized garden setting of the Harp Altar installation.
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Jennifer Wright: As Many As There Are Seeds in a Pomegranate (Harp Altar)
Cast iron piano harp from a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano, soil, moss, sand, jewel beetle wings, dried pomegranates, lotus pods, paper, pine cones, handmade paper flowers
The title refers to the many unseen possible futures that await when it seems that a crushing ending has occurred. Peacefully resting on a mossy bed, the elegant skeleton of the piano harp creates a ritual space that invites reflection. It is reminiscent of the feeling when a loved one who has passed visits in a dream, appearing not as perhaps last seen in life, but radiant with health and joy, in their prime.
Natural elements that speak to the positive, renewing powers of fire abound: fireweed plants, which are native to the Pacific NW, are among the first plants to come up after a fire. The cones of many species of pine and sequoia trees require the heat of fire in order to open and release their seeds. Lotus and pomegranate are potent symbols of renewal, fertility, and divinity. Iridescent jewel beetles return embedded nutrients to the eternal stream of energy.
Dimensions: 56” x 60” x 8” (approx.). Collection of the artist.
Cast iron piano harp from a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano, soil, moss, sand, jewel beetle wings, dried pomegranates, lotus pods, paper, pine cones, handmade paper flowers
The title refers to the many unseen possible futures that await when it seems that a crushing ending has occurred. Peacefully resting on a mossy bed, the elegant skeleton of the piano harp creates a ritual space that invites reflection. It is reminiscent of the feeling when a loved one who has passed visits in a dream, appearing not as perhaps last seen in life, but radiant with health and joy, in their prime.
Natural elements that speak to the positive, renewing powers of fire abound: fireweed plants, which are native to the Pacific NW, are among the first plants to come up after a fire. The cones of many species of pine and sequoia trees require the heat of fire in order to open and release their seeds. Lotus and pomegranate are potent symbols of renewal, fertility, and divinity. Iridescent jewel beetles return embedded nutrients to the eternal stream of energy.
Dimensions: 56” x 60” x 8” (approx.). Collection of the artist.
"Because They Were Jewish..." by Bonnie Meltzer and volunteers. Tapestry of piano strings (from Grandma Bess's Steinway and additional pianos), tuning pegs, felt, ribbon, yarn, wire, beads, found objects.
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Details of "Because They Were Jewish..."
Family member: Life-cycle
Dried pomegranates, glass beads, pearls, photographs, filament, action parts (keys and hammer mechanisms) of a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano
Artist's description: "All of the pomegranates and the images of the pomegranates come from my garden except for one that comes from Jerusalem. The pearls are from Grandma Bess’ necklace, which survived because they were at another family member’s home.
To be any kind of living organism requires constant change. And, it doesn’t always work out in a neat, predictable pattern of blossoming to decay. In “Life-cycle” we see different moments of life moving through time and in relation to each other."
Dried pomegranates, glass beads, pearls, photographs, filament, action parts (keys and hammer mechanisms) of a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano
Artist's description: "All of the pomegranates and the images of the pomegranates come from my garden except for one that comes from Jerusalem. The pearls are from Grandma Bess’ necklace, which survived because they were at another family member’s home.
To be any kind of living organism requires constant change. And, it doesn’t always work out in a neat, predictable pattern of blossoming to decay. In “Life-cycle” we see different moments of life moving through time and in relation to each other."
A closer view of "Pushing the Pedals", a work that combines meticulously restored elements of Grandma Bess's piano with a glass top to make a whimsical table. "The Glass Piano" by Jennifer Wright sits to the back right.
Family member: Pushing the Pedals
Pedal lyre, legs, and other wooden parts of a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano; glass; brass screws
Artist's statement: "We, Grandma Bess’ grandchildren, would lay on our backs on the soft, crushed rug under the piano as she played. We begged her to use the pedals, to elongate notes and vibrations, as the music enveloped and transported us. Later, after she died and our parents brought the piano to our childhood home, we would make forts, wrapping the legs in all manner of blankets and towels to create our own little sturdy world beneath the piano. The piano reached almost 100 years old, as a piano. And now, we reclaim parts of it to build this table that will stand solidly again - in the next generation’s living room."
Pedal lyre, legs, and other wooden parts of a burned 1920s Steinway grand piano; glass; brass screws
Artist's statement: "We, Grandma Bess’ grandchildren, would lay on our backs on the soft, crushed rug under the piano as she played. We begged her to use the pedals, to elongate notes and vibrations, as the music enveloped and transported us. Later, after she died and our parents brought the piano to our childhood home, we would make forts, wrapping the legs in all manner of blankets and towels to create our own little sturdy world beneath the piano. The piano reached almost 100 years old, as a piano. And now, we reclaim parts of it to build this table that will stand solidly again - in the next generation’s living room."
The Glass Piano concert series
This fascinating lecture recital series followed the creation of The Glass Piano and premiered the first suite of music that I composed for it. Along the way, I delved into the remarkable history of glass, demonstrated a variety of glass implements and instruments, showcased several unusual experimental instruments made of glass, explained the complicated history of burning pianos in the name of art (yes, it's a thing!), and let the audience try their hand at jamming along with The Glass Piano on a plethora of glass objects!
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Keeping Is Not the Same As Carrying (2024)
Jennifer Wright, composer/performer
Jennifer Wright, composer/performer
"Keeping Is Not The Same As Carrying" was the very first piece that I composed for The Glass Piano. This work considers the role that trauma inevitably will play in each of our lives. Having seen many loved ones buckle under the impossible weight of absorbed traumatic experiences, I have come to believe that the hardest work lies in refusing to let ourselves be defined by such experiences. It is true that we cannot change what happens to us; we must be the keepers of our own stories, but we also must find a way gently to put them down and choose life.
For inquiries about bringing The Glass Piano to your community or institution for a residency or concert series,
please contact me at jenniferawright(at)yahoo.com
Coming soon: the video documentary of The Burned Piano Project!