The MUSIC ROOM…a Child’s Escape

When I was ten years old our family lived in a 13 room, 3 story Victorian house in Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts. It sounds very elegant but was actually a very “lived in “ abode, housing my parents, four sisters and even a schoolteacher who boarded with us. The rooms were filled with old hand-me-down furniture and, all in all, it was a very comfortable, but less than chic, home.

The one exception to this, however, was the “Music Room”. It held all the Victorian furnishings that my Mother had inherited from her parents, including a piano, and I loved to sneak in there, especially in the wintertime when the doors were closed tight (to save on heating). Then the room became my private, if somewhat chilly, land of make believe.

I would always sit in the same place…perched high in the exact middle of an austere Victorian loveseat and my eyes would seek out the objects in the room. The piano dominated the room, covering half the wall and wide enough to carry a Tiffany lamp, 3 stacks of sheet music, a violin and a clarinet atop it’s paisley shawl. It was the most ornate piano I have ever seen, a gigantic black body waiting patiently to be played.

The rest of the objects in the room vied with the piano…the marble table tops turning pink from the reflection of the peach colored wallpaper, the leather book covers, the frosted light globe hanging by a “gold” chain and, best of all…two Victorian side chairs.

Those chairs looked like little “fat ladies” stuffed into flowered brocade, the dark scrolled wood curving into shoulders, short arms jutting at either side and their legs planted firmly apart on the floor.

It was my childhood escape and I loved the way the everyday hustle and bustle of the rest of the house receded as I sat there. I was the grand dame … the chairs were my “friends” and we were waiting for the recital to begin. A slight nod to the invisible pianist ….and the music would begin.