A Girl from Vienna who Played Beethoven
A short story about a grand piano and my mom, who died 10 years ago this month
She grew up in tumultuous times. Born 1929. Her mother and father an odd match — he was a musician, who played at local taverns, the piano, and his accordion. Heurige ~or local taverns, in Vienna and around Vienna, where local winemakers serve their new wine. Where people go to socialize. It’s a big thing in these parts. Gemütlichkeit — enjoying simple things like wine, food, and the latest gossip — the setting unpretentious with wooden tables and benches. The music sometimes took center stage, singing about a love that ends tragically or blending into the background noise with a jaunty tune — these were the essentials, this institution of Viennese tradition.
My grandmother came from farm stock — miles outside of Vienna, a family of ten children. With so many mouths to feed, my grandmother, Rosa, was sent away to the big city at the age of ten, to work as a maid. Hard-working and working her way up as far as she could go — purchasing a shop, a small general store. How she and my artistically inclined grandfather met, I have no idea.
My mother came along and was nurtured from a young age by her father, to follow her passions. Or his, maybe. One day, a delivery truck pulled up and stopped in front of their store (they lived in three small rooms at…
