EDITORIAL

T

here it is: New York. With its myriad skyscrapers that tower boldly above. With its traffic rushing incessantly around. But also with its thousands of urban garden spaces. Starting with what is by now the mythical High Line, the walk between skyscrapers along a disused elevated railway line that used to transport goods to the old Meatpacking District (nowadays the trendiest district in the city), with a new recently-opened stretch, with even taller trees, and with more flowers and greenery around the tracks. With the new Waterfront along the East River, towards Pier 17, with the new children’s playground and even newer dog parks. With so many pedestrian zones, cycle paths and tables and chairs set out in the street just for passers-by, free to stop as long as they want. With the water taxis that shuttle back and forth for free between Ikea at Red Hook in Brooklyn and Manhattan. An outdoor lunge, lovelier and more welcoming than ever, New York renews and re-invents itself continuously, it never fails to amaze, even when, like me last June, you’re visiting it for the fortieth time.

In Brooklyn there’s a new, magnificent park: Brooklyn Bridge Park, where, every evening, new events are held. Telescopes directed at the sky to observe the stars with astronomers who provide explanations, a sort of granite amphitheatre where Shakespeare is staged outdoors, for free, for whoever wants to stop by. Not far away, at DUMBO (down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass) an old-style merry-go-round evokes a magic retrò atmosphere.

But for a two week period, in June, there was another surprise in New York. Pianos. Pianos in the streets, in the parks, in the squares, in the underpasses. Not with their relative pianists, but just left around for the passers-by.

It’s the third year that they have held this initiative in the city. It is arranged by “Sing for Hope”, a non-profit organization that aims to make the arts accessible for all, especially the less privileged communities. This time there were 88 pianos (!), distributed in the five New York boroughs. Upright, baby grand, grand, decorated by artists, illustrators and graphic designers. At the end of the two weeks they were donated to schools, hospitals and local organizations.

Coming across them, in the streets, was thrilling. Seeing New Yorkers and tourists waiting patiently on line to play in the open air. Observing the plastic sheeting on the round, next to the pianos, so the passers-by themselves could cover them up in case of rain. Listening to a lovely tune and discovering that the person playing was a young optician who had also composed it. Being taken aback when a child of no more than five years old, sitting on the stool without his feet even touching the ground, plays some pieces of classical music by heart with the nonchalance of an accomplished professional… it was thrilling. Even people who have never been musical may feel the urge to sit down and play in the sunshine or under the stars, gazing on the bewitching Manhattan skyline. You can do it even if you can’t play. This is New York.

Pianos in the streets. Another unforgettable thrill in among my travel memories.