We live in an age where almost any human activity – cooking, singing, sewing, pottery – can be turned into a competitive spectacle for TV. Now comes The Piano, Channel 4’s new series, in which, over four rounds, amateurs demonstrate their keyboard skills.
Each qualifying round takes place, not in a concert hall, but in a railway station (London St Pancras, Leeds, Glasgow, Birmingham), where in recent years pianos have been installed for passers-by to play on. All those railway station pianos are a platform – excuse the pun – for a joyful amateur passion to become the latest TV game show.
First stop is St Pancras, the setting for episode number one. The piano sits on the concourse, somewhat overshadowed by the glitz of the surrounding shops and restaurants but attracting a sizeable audience, no doubt drawn in part by the presence of cameras and the ubiquitous Claudia Winkleman, our host for the series (is there nothing that woman can’t do?).
There’s no word about how the contestants were chosen, or how the performances were stage-managed, which feels like an obvious omission, but they can’t be faulted for diversity: the oldest pianist is 92, the youngest 12, and the playing styles are equally varied.
None of them is aware that, as they play, they’re being judged by singer-songwriter Mika, and by the leading Chinese artist Lang Lang, billed by Winkleman as “the greatest classical pianist of the modern era”; well, perhaps. They’re tucked away in a back room in one of the restaurants, watching the performances on closed-circuit TV.
The choice of repertoire is wide, and usually with an interesting story attached: Zethan, a 28-year-old construction manager, likens playing Debussy to building a high-rise tower. Jared took up the piano during lockdown but pumps out muscular boogie as if he’s been doing it all his life. Fiona can’t remember ever not playing the piano; she gave it up when her son’s autism was diagnosed, took it up again when he asked her to play for him, and delivers a lilting melody that she wrote herself.
Half-Ukrainian, 12-year-old Ilya is taking Zoom lessons from his Ukrainian teacher; he gets plenty of energy into The Dance of the Knights by Prokofiev (born in what is now Ukraine). And so on: there’s always more to it than the short piece we get to hear (usually interrupted by cutaways to the two judges’ running critique, which sometimes overrides the music).
After all the performances, the contestants gather for the big reveal. First, they learn that they’ve been judged by two major celebrities; then that the winner will perform in a concert at the Royal Festival Hall (presumably that’s the finale); and then the judgement itself, delivered by Mika and Lang Lang in a pale imitation of the Gregg Wallace and John Torode style. Hopefully they will warm up a bit over the course of the remaining episodes.
It’s all rather formulaic but the contestants’ excitement seems as genuine as their talent; Mika and Lang Lang are thoroughly engaged, their comments perceptive and supportive, and Winkleman makes sure that she doesn’t hog the limelight. The series may not change the face of piano-playing, but, in this opening episode at least, there’s a pervasive warmth not always felt in TV competitions. The X Factor this is not, and thank goodness for that.
