DO NOT PLAY THIS PIANO

“About the power of music to transcend time, and about how real genius always welcomes the new”

JOYCE McMILLAN, THE SCOTSMAN

William’s school report - not great. But when it comes to pulling off flashy piano tricks, he's a star!

So when his teachers choose him to perform at Mozart’s birthday concert in Salzburg, it sounds like a dream opportunity. There’s just one problem; William might have hundreds of tricks up his sleeve ... but he doesn’t actually have a piece of music to play.

What follows is a chase through a Salzburg haunted house, a forbidden piano and a moonlit encounter with Mozart himself!

Combining live piano, storytelling and hand-drawn projection-mapped animation, this is Mozart, with a twist of blues, a splash of tango, a dash of rock 'n' roll (plus a roll of gaffer tape)!

This critically-acclaimed family show was premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August 2019, originally titled First Piano on the Moon. During the 2020 lockdown it was adapted for online audiences with director Lu Kemp and presented by Horsecross Arts. The subsequent live production was developed with director Ian Cameron, animator and projection designer Will Monks, and illustrator Tim Vincent-Smith.

When I was at school, I noticed that pianos were often locked, or stowed away under some dust cover, out of bounds. Why would you lock up a piano? Why would you prevent people from making them sing (or scream)? The forbidden piano I recall most was one I came across in Salzburg. In fairness, it was Mozart’s actual piano. But to stop people playing it - full stop. What, banned so that future generations may also be banned from playing it? Forget that! I needed to connect with the great composer. And I was promptly removed from the museum by security after a few bars of Rondo alla Turca.

Growing up, the piano was my thing. I loved playing it, experimenting with it and discovering what it could do. But even at a young age I was aware of the rules, expectations and occasional snobbery surrounding it.

Do Not Play This Piano grew out of that tension: between playing correctly and simply wanting to play.

Written and performed by Will Pickvance
Illustration by Tim Vincent-Smith
Animation and projection mapping by Will Monks
Lighting by Paul Maguire
Technical direction by Tim Reid
Zoom direction by Lu Kemp
Stage direction by Ian Cameron & Magda Dragan
Supported by Horsecross

Review from THE NATIONAL

The show is a combination of Pickvance’s wonderfully engaging storytelling, lovely piano playing and some delightful little video animations. As he unfolds his tale, the performer exudes, by turns, enthusiasm, excitement and trepidation in a way that transports children and adults alike.

There’s the wild-eyed wonder at being taken into the Mozart Geburtshaus (the museum to the composer, where young Will is to play in the concert). Then there’s the panic, upon meeting two of the other young musicians, in realising that, unlike his new, somewhat precocious friends, he has no great, classical piano piece to play to the audience tomorrow morning.

All of which, given young Will’s imaginative bent, leads to a long, late-night conversation with the ghost of Mozart himself. The spirit of Wolfgang Amadeus is, as you might expect, sympathetic and encouraging. The great composer is particularly excited to learn that his music has remained so popular over the centuries that it has even been played on the moon.

This storytelling is interspersed with high-energy piano playing, ranging from crowd-pleasing tricks (including playing upside-down) to a virtuosic medley (which goes from blues and jazz to tango and rock ‘n’ roll). It’s all very humorous, educational and highly entertaining stuff, as the little girl who shouted “Bravo! Bravo!” after every piano piece on Friday afternoon can attest.

Like all of the best children’s theatre-makers, Pickvance doesn’t patronise his young audience. He connects his childhood memories with their life experiences as a benign adult talking to a child, without recourse to any of the toe-curling mimicking of children that we still see in our culture.

Indeed, Pickvance is quite willing to stretch the vocabulary of his youngest audience members. His school report card, for example, is “incriminating evidence”.

This year’s Fringe is sadly, if inevitably, dominated by online shows. However, this brilliant piece, returning to its in-person roots following a pandemic-related sojourn into digital presentation, is a beacon for the return to live children’s theatre.