“My grandmother was born in 1898 and I remember her bottle green piano. When she was sixty-two years old she moved to the 26th floor of a tower block. The building was new; it was one of those towers put up in the 1960’s. It was in Edmonton, I was a young boy at the time. The piano stayed there ’til 1980 when she moved to Norwich to live with us. The piano came with her then as well. When I used to visit my nan in the tower block I’d wonder how the piano had got all the way up there! I’d tinkle away on it and she’d tell me “learn your scales, learn your scales!” That was her phrase. She was worried about the noise so she didn’t play it that much. She played more at the Salvation Army meetings, she’d play the hymns. I don’t know much about how she learnt piano.
When she took the piano to Norwich she gave it to my brother who lived nearby. It was on casters and he started wheeling it to his home but the piano never made it because it gradually started falling to bits in the street until there was nothing left! I didn’t really learn my scales but it’s never too late.” (Karl Ferre)