The submitter asks: “Is she playing Debussy or Ravel, by any chance???”
Cue a whole-tone scale, or the music for the Neighborhood of Make-Believe…
Looks like they were comparing notes.
But not playing any. Because it’s hard to play when you’re draped over the keyboard, overcome with sadness.
Here’s a key solution to the perpetual problem of how to identify pianists without pinning them inside the piano.
Finally, Awkward Classical Music Photos meets Awkward Family Photos.
You know, even though they’re all stuck under the piano, they look happy. Except for the one who’s actually in focus.
Dude, I think your music is on fire. The sheet music. Burying your elbows in smoke.
Or, the power of reflection.
Lovely yet awkward. If my mom made me an album, I’m not sure I’d want it immortalized quite like this. “Mother! Put some clothes on!”
And the vacant stare?
The answer usually seems to be:
Show off their hands! Their hands that bring such gorgeous music out of the piano. Their hands that they protect and cherish and love. Their hands that they clasp, hold to their faces, fold together, drape on the piano, or hold in mid-air.
Everybody does it.
(Not all of these photos are awkward individually. Some are actually great. But once you start noticing that every pianist poses with his or her hands on display, it becomes a kind of collective awkwardness. Which we, of course, couldn’t resist.)
If he’s going to attempt the Breck girl thing, he should probably wash his hair before the photo shoot.
I don’t know what’s more carefully and artificially arranged, the fanned-out scores on the piano or her décolletage.
I feel awkward just uploading this, like my mother is going to find out and shame me for posting such extensive cleavage. Sorry, Mom.
And trust me, you’ll hear better when you’re not all up in the piano’s business.
Now look too cool for the piano. Yes, hands on your hips. You hate the piano. That’s it.
(For the record: I think it’s a lovely photo from an aesthetic standpoint, but it’s an awkward PR photo for making it look like she wants nothing to do with the damn piano.)
Is that an actual mess, or did they artfully arrange the scores around him while he sat earnestly on that box?
Like those awkwardly posed school photos from third grade, but with a piano instead of a puzzle piece. Not to mention the vacant stare and unruly hair.