Vale Roger Smalley, a great Australian musical intellect

Roger Smalley, AM, has passed away at the age of 72. Gone too soon, certainly for me. This story is my personal experience of this amazing musician and teacher, including some things I had wanted to say to Roger in person but did not get the chance. Other sites with the usual life story details for Roger and some very interesting insights are linked at the end in an ever-growing list (updated to 8 June 2016).

UWA School of Music in 2012. Photo by MDJ

UWA School of Music in 2012. Photo by MDJ

At the beginning of my first term at university in 1979 I turned up to the composition class at the University of Western Australia, full of anticipation and excited at the prospect of finally getting some composition instruction. Roger had just taken on the responsibility for teaching the composition majors as John Exton was away on leave (Exton was also away the following year). He seemed shocked to discover this small group of students who thought they could specialise in composition straight out of high school and insisted we all re-enrol in some other major subject and take a half-unit for two years called something like Compositional Techniques. At the time I was a bit put out but soon was enjoying the course as it was in these tutorials that I really learnt how to think like a composer, things you just don’t get in the classes on harmony or ear training (important though they are). Or, at least, I thought I was learning to think like a composer, but what would that be, anyway?

So we joined other first year students in these tutorials. After a while my naturally analytical mind found its stride and it soon became evident I was in my element. Roger used a whiteboard to analyse melodic shapes, for example in the Bach Two-part Inventions, Bartok’s Mikrokosmos, and Gregorian chant. Later we tackled twelve-tone note rows from Schoenberg & Webern, and music by Stockhausen and many others. It was a revelation. In between tutes I spent endless hours pouring over scores, covering them in pencil marks, humming them and playing them on the piano. However, the little creative assignments were a struggle (and still are, though they’re much bigger pieces nowadays).

When I first met him Roger’s sight-reading at the piano was mind-boggling. Then I began learning a lot more about piano playing from a variety of sources (which should be the subject of another blog one day), and my ear for the sound of the piano began to develop. I knew Roger could play anything but the playing was a bit ‘bashy.’ The wonderful British soprano, Jane Manning, many times toured Australia and performed and taught masterclasses at UWA.  I’ll never forget that, when a student made a remark in awe of Roger’s pianistic gifts, she said something to the effect that “back home (in Britain), Roger would be quite average as a pianist.” That was in 1980.

So how did he later become such a wonderful pianist? Strictly speaking I don’t know the answer to this question but I always wanted to ask him and I have a theory. At UWA we were so fortunate to have a steady stream of world-class performers and teachers dropping in, due to the influence of Sir Frank Callaway, head of the Department of Music (as it was then known). You don’t travel many thousands of kilometres just to give one recital so, unlike other conservatoire-like institutions in the northern hemisphere where I was led to believe such teachers would arrive on a train, give a masterclass, and then get straight back on the train, our visitors would stay for weeks. This meant students could have private lessons and even chat with these top musicians over lunch or breakfast. I suspect this is what happened with Roger. In particular, he may have found some inspiration from Lionel Bowman who gave masterclasses and performances around 1980 and 1984. Bowman, from Stellenbosch University in South Africa, had a way of teaching how to produce a really lovely sound on the piano and a way of easily mastering difficult passage work (neither of which, incidentally, is found in the book and video about Bowman’s teaching).

Sir Frank in the Callaway Auditorium with gamelan. Photo by MDJ 2012

Sir Frank in the Callaway Auditorium with gamelan. Photo by MDJ 2012

Roger certainly did not play like Bowman at any time. He had his own style but I wonder if the improvement in his tone may owe something to Bowman, and perhaps also to other visiting pianists, because the change over a year or two was quite marked. He went from a super sight-reader with a pretty ordinary sound to a pianist of high distinction.

AS  A  COMPOSITION  TEACHER  Roger was not stuck on any particular school of composition. He exposed his students to almost everything you could imagine and then some. I’ll have to dig out my list of required listening for the third year class unit, but please believe me when I say it was an awesome list: Cage, Berio, Messiaen, Riley, Reich, Ives, Stockhausen, Bartok, Schaeffer, Varèse, Boulez and many more.

It’s a cliché I know, but so true of Roger, that he always sought beauty in music. Beauty may be in the ear of the listener, or the mind of the musical thinker, and this perhaps explains both the wideness of his musical stylistic range and his depth of understanding of anything he played. Aside from assessing student works I never heard Roger say a bad word about any composer or any genre of music. He could tell the great music from the ordinary and could have told you why, but didn’t. He wasn’t about to tell you what you should like or dislike.

One thing I did wonder about at the time, though, was why we did not get more study of Australian (read: eastern Australian) music. Roger’s expertise and interest was more in the USA, Asia, and especially Europe and the UK. But in hindsight I think that was a great thing. I’m a fifth-generation West Australian on my mother’s side, and my father was from the UK. For most of my growing up years I rarely saw a non-caucasian face until I started Uni. Since then I’ve always thought this country, and Perth in particular, would have been the most awful backwater if it were not for the many waves of immigrants from many countries coming to live here. They bring us all sorts of benefits, too many to list, and Roger is an outstanding case in point. If we’d had an Australian in his role would we have learnt about Berio and Boulez? Or Terry Riley?

Having fallen out of the contemporary music loop I lost track of Roger after he left his abode in the Perth Hills locality of Parkerville, which coincidently is where I grew up and where I now house sit. Upon hearing he had been awarded the Member of the Order of Australia (AM) in 2011 I sent congratulations but got no reply, which is not all that surprising. Then last year on Margaret Throsby’s ABC radio programme someone mentioned Roger was ill and living in Sydney. Idly I wished I could get on a plane but that wasn’t possible.

Roger was the most important mentor I’ve ever had and I regret not having had the chance to tell him that. Among many other fine music teachers he is one of two that I really thank my lucky stars for. Without them I really don’t know how I would have progressed as a musician. The other was Brian Michell who took me on as a piano student at UWA (see This is not to say that I compose even remotely like Roger or play or teach piano at all like Brian, of course. But they were vital at the time.

The clarity of Roger’s music was always an inspiration to me. This I’m sure has some relationship to his own clarity of thought in the understanding of the music of others. In tutorials he could delve into the most intricate complexities of Stockhausen and yet also illuminate the sophistication behind apparently simple music. (My relationship to Roger is a small mirror to Roger’s relationship to Stockhausen in that we both did paid professional music copying for our mentor. I did the hand copying of Strung Out and some of The Southland, and computer copying of a lot of the Concerto for Contra-bassoon.) It seemed Roger could, by studying a score, get into the mind of a composer and know what they were thinking. Or, as he said to us, one could understand what they might have been thinking. That, I would suggest, is a rare and valuable skill.

UWA School of Music in 2012. Photo by MDJ

UWA School of Music in 2012. Photo by MDJ

After two years of intense study in the half unit I was awarded an ‘A’ and was allowed to enrol in the full unit for third year composition (it was a four-year degree). But it was thought I should now have the benefit of the experience of another composition teacher, probably to get a different perspective which, on the face of it, made sense. But my new lessons consisted entirely of having excerpts read to me from little books on Zen or Taoism. Whether that was really a contributing factor in my downturn I will never know but it was around then that I began to struggle mightily with a major depressive illness.

I can clearly recall standing on the top floor of the music building where the practice rooms were, looking at a street light pole in the distance near the residential colleges. Despite repeated efforts I was unable to keep my gaze fixed on the pole for even one second. In music I could not remember more than two notes in succession, which you’d have to say would be pretty important, no?

Why I did not seek help is one of those mysteries of young people. To this day the condition has never been diagnosed but I did very gradually heal up completely, over a period of more than ten years.

Being in this debilitated state was a huge fall for someone who’d so recently topped the class for their ability to analyse music. I’d been able to figure out the form and many other details of a piece in a few seconds flat from skipping through the pages. Or just from listening to it once.

At some point I was allowed to resume study with Roger but by then I was in very bad shape and was not able to complete my composition degree until many years later.

Mental illness has been a background, and sometimes foreground, subject in much of my own output, even before I started uni. Student works had titles like ‘Two Worlds’ or ‘Visions’ and programme notes mentioned ‘the abyss.’ Works currently in progress deal with the relationship between the conscious and the subconscious.

A final regret is not getting around to showing Roger or Brian, or anyone else at UWA for that matter, a little 4 minute piano solo I composed when I was sixteen years old. Think “Moonlight Sonata meets Cavatina from The Deer Hunter” (and about the same length but composed a year before that film came out). The style was so traditional that I didn’t even think it was a good piece of music. How crazy is that? So they never heard Androgyne Prophecy, which I now regard as a very good piece indeed.

By a strange coincidence it was only eight days before he died that I used Spotify to search for Roger’s music, the first time I had ever used that site. I was researching the site while thinking how hard it is these days for anyone to make a living from music unless they teach. How ironic then that I found Roger’s Pulses and his recordings of John White’s piano sonatas there, free for anyone to listen to without payment.

Roger Smalley was a great musician whose memory is worthy of a great celebration which I so earnestly hope will happen. What a pity that he was not much more celebrated during the course of his career. I hope his long piano duo partnership with Cathie Travers will be remembered for many years to come. Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring for one piano four hands is a memory I will always treasure.

I am so grateful to have had this personal connection with Roger. Others I hope will write of his work with performing ensembles and conducting, his compositions, his innovations in electronic music, improvisation and free improvisation, and the many other composers and pianists he taught.

Updated 8 June 2016

Author of this blog: Mix Margaret D. Jones

Another blog of mine about the Smalley concerts by Decibel on 7th June 2016 and the Fremantle Chamber Orchestra on 6th December 2015: 2016/06/08/all-smalley-concert-at-state-theatre/

All-Smalley concert on 7th June 2016 by Decibel, for Tura:

There was also a review of the Decibel concert by the next day in The West Australian newspaper:

Cathie Travers on her long professional and personal relationship with Roger

An insightful 2007 article by the pianist Mark Coughlan, a piano student and later teaching colleague of Roger and formerly Head of the UWA School of Music

Other articles

19 September 2015:

19 August 2015:

In classical music circles you may one day come across other M D Joneses. One M Jones also did a MusB at the University of Western Australia, in guitar and other fretted instruments. Another also has a Bachelor of Music in composition, from somewhere in the eastern states (of Australia).

Raw nerve king-hit over Stonewall riots

How to deeply insult thousands of transgender (especially black transgender) people all over the world in two minutes 22 seconds: make a trailer of a movie about their history which writes them out of it. Have the oppressed become the oppressors?

Some people are saying “but it’s only the trailer, wait until you’ve seen the whole film.” Yeah, right, so that’s when we get the picture? So it doesn’t matter if the trailer is hugely misleading and re-writes the heritage of all members of the LGBTQ alphabet? No No NO! The trailer is the first public exposure of the film, it has high significance and will (mis-) shape the history of the event in the minds of most who see it.

If the full movie gives an accurate and balanced account, why does the trailer so clearly not do that? Methinks the full movie is more likely to live up to our worst fears.

I’ve lifted a little from ‘s interview with Miss Major Griffen-Gracy posted on  The whole article is a great read, here’s a few snippets:

The best thing I can remember about that night is that when the girls decided, “no, we ain’t doing this,” some of the girls got out of the paddy wagon and came back, the police got so scared they backed into the club and locked the doors! I mean, if nothing else, that was the funniest thing to have in your mind watching it happen. And meanwhile across the street there are all these cute little white boys cheering us on, and saying “don’t hurt the girls!” and all this blah blah. They weren’t in the fight.

the first thing you want to do is piss off whatever guard you’re fighting so much that they knock you completely out, then you’ll live another day. They won’t keep beating on you until you don’t live. So I got knocked out early, and the next thing I knew I woke up in the cell and we were let out the next day.

it was so disappointing for me to watch the first gay parade because most of us don’t think of ourselves as gay.

Below are excerpts from something I (Mix Margaret) saved in 2002, posted by someone in the Gay and Lesbian Equality (Western Australia) Inc. Yahoo! Group. Originally it came from the Message Board of by the writer ‘TheEggman’ whose site it is, or was.

In this account of the riots the words ‘queen’ and ‘homosexual’ (which includes ‘queens’) are used because in 1969 the terms transsexual, transgender, or gay were not known, or not widely known. However, it is clear that the main actors in the riots were trans or drag queens, especially black or coloured, and at least one lesbian. The gay men were mostly onlookers who nevertheless played an important part by cheering them on to encourage them.

The article by Jerry Lisker was published within days of the Stonewall riots. Subsequent to the riots the gay rights movement really took off in the USA. Writers of gay rights history correctly ascribe the riots a key position in that history, but I wish the true story of the event itself was not so frequently forgotten or re-written.

Quote: Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad

Reprinted from “The New York Daily News,” July 6, 1969 By JERRY LISKER

She sat there with her legs crossed, the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She was angry. She was so upset she hadn’t bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he. A queen of Christopher Street.

Last weekend the queens had turned commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the Stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher St., in the heart of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich Village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt. New York City experienced its first homosexual riot. “We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is far from over,” lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens.

“We’ve had all we can take from the Gestapo,” the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. “We’re putting our foot down once and for all.” The foot wore a spiked heel. According to reports, the Stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they get together.

The thick glass shut out the outside world of the street. Inside, the Stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland clientele.

The Raid Last Friday

Last Friday the privacy of the Stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid. They had a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since the Stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law.

All hell broke loose when the police entered the Stonewall. The girls instinctively reached for each other. Others stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear.

Only a handful of police were on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street, just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the Stonewall and the customers were greeted with cheers of encouragement from the gallery.

The whole proceeding took on the aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop. She later confessed that she didn’t protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn’t want him to see her this way, she wept.

Queen Power

The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could get their polished, manicured fingernails on. Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the valley had become carnivorous jungle plants.

Urged on by cries of “C’mon girls, lets go get ’em,” the defenders of Stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance. To the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force.

Flushed with the excitement of battle, a fellow called Gloria pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered by the honeys turned Madwoman of Chaillot.

Official reports listed four injured policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about 2 hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a return bout Wednesday night.

Two veterans… recalled the battle and issued a warning to the cops. “If they close up all the gay joints in this area, there is going to be all out war.”

… Police said there were over 200 people in the Stonewall when they entered with a warrant. The crowd outside was estimated at 500 to 1,000. According to police, the Stonewall had been under observation for some time… The police are sure of one thing. They haven’t heard the last from the Girls of Christopher Street.


See the video of my piano solo from 1977: Androgyne Prophecy, available as sheet music.

See this great re-make of the Stonewall trailer, which says it all:

How I avoid fructose (sucrose)

A little basic stuff first (I only know basic stuff): sucrose (what we commonly call ‘sugar’) is a molecule of glucose joined to a molecule of fructose. As soon as you eat sucrose it separates into these two types of sugars.

Your body needs glucose (I think, or it certainly uses heaps of it), but your body doesn’t need fructose. Many now believe fructose is essentially addictive and poisonous, even in smallish quantities. Adding to these problems glucose is not very sweet whereas fructose is.

Enter: other sweeteners. In my hot chocolate etc I use a combination of erythritol, stevia and glucose powder (properly known as dextrose monohydrate, not to be confused with other dextrosey-type things). This makes for ZERO fructose. Yay!

You may wonder why I bother to put the glucose in it, considering it’s not very sweet. Answer: it does round out the flavour, plus I am concerned there could be problems if you only use erythritol and stevia. If your brain registers (through taste buds) that you have eaten something very sweet but hardly any calories/joules turn up in your blood (because only your gut bugs eat erythritol), there is the suspicion in some circles that your brain will command you to keep eating, including more sweet and fatty foods, to get a decent amount of calories. So I include glucose to provide some calories which really will be digested.

  • Erythritol: best value I can find is Natvia baking pack, in your supermarket sugar section. Be aware that too much, if you’re not used to it, acts as a laxative.
  • Stevia: a little is included in the Natvia erythritol or you can buy stevia separately.
  • Glucose powder (dextrose monohydrate): $4.25 for a 1.25 kg bag at Big Bubble shops (Western Australia), mostly sold for home brewing. Much cheaper than Glucodin at the supermarkets.

I read somewhere (see below) that erythritol and xylitol are the only two alcohol sugars which don’t break down into fructose. So-called ‘sugarless’ chocolates, made with other alcohol sugars like malitol, maltitol etc or so-called ‘dietary fibres’ like inulin, may have MORE fructose in them than a bar of Cadburys. So give me a Cadburys instead!

Others to be wary of: honey is about 80% sucrose (so it’s 40% fructose). Agave is just about off the scale. BTW, don’t bother with glucose syrup: it’s almost tasteless and is mainly used for texture, although that may be what your cooking needs and I guess it would provide real calories.

Where did I find all this very second-hand info which you should not be relying upon without first talking to your trusted health professional? In March 2012 I read a book by David Gillespie called The Sweet Poison Quit Plan. He has heaps of well-argued and really interesting stuff about sugar, fat etc. Enough info and persuasive arguments to fill several books. Oh, yes, in fact he DID fill several books.

Worth a read.

Zig Zag gallery video now online

Anne-Marie & her daughter, Sophie, have made a lovely video showcasing the artwork from the exhibition at the Zig Zag gallery in June, which features my piano music as the sound track. Very interesting and unusual artwork by three artists: Anne-Marie Wharrie, Christiana Gagiano and Sultana Shamshi.

Making the piano recording was quite a job, lots of wrestling with the computer, devices losing communication etc, but the effort was worth the result.

See Anne-Marie’s channel at

See my previous blog post about playing at the Zig Zag:

New edition of Androgyne Prophecy

1st page

1st page Androgyne Prophecy

Today I will pick-up from the printers the new sheet music for Androgyne Prophecy. Yay! It’s only been eleven years since the first edition, but who’s counting?

I will make more videos of it and a really good recording soon. In the meantime you can see me play the whole piece at

To get your copy of the sheet music click on the green Shopify buttons below, or see HMP Sheet Music to buy direct with a cheque or direct credit. There is also an easy version.

Or drop-in to hear me play at Soul Tree Organic Cafe and get the special price of $15 and save on the p&h too!

I play there on the 2nd & 4th Sundays of each month, so 23 August, 13 & 27 September 2015, 12 noon to closing time at 3pm.

Of course, they also have the most amazing food, very special indeed. See you soon for coffee, cake and music?

World Premiere of Documentary Sold-out

Today Tempest Productions had a SELL OUT audience for the 87 minute independent documentary Parkerville Amphitheatre: Sets, Bugs and Rock n Roll.

Having seen two in-progress versions and now the finished product I found it really grew on me. And not just because I feature in it!

I’m too close to the story to really comment on it. Suffice to say: people are raving about it.

There are two more screenings in the Revelation Perth International Film Festival:

4pm Saturday 11 July 2015 (Northbridge), and 12 noon Sunday 12 July 2015 (Fremantle). Get your tickets NOW because they will also sell out. See

Feel free to make a comment.

20150704.16 Crowd inside Luna Cinema, Leederville72 blog



Facebook now has 50 genders

Don’t know how I missed this last year.

Below is a paste from that page. Note that originally these terms were only available in the USA but they now seem to be available here. Hooray!

Any attempt to define these terms (and even ‘male’ or ‘female’) is bound to be problematic. But if you are wondering what a cisgender person is, you probably ARE one. Most people on the planet are probably cisgender. That term could simply refer to a male-born or female-born person with a gender identification as a ‘traditional’ man or woman respectively, or someone who has no ‘gender issues.’ You get the idea.

Facebook’s new gender options

Here is a list of new gender options Facebook is making available:

Cis Female
Cis Male
Cis Man
Cis Woman
Cisgender Female
Cisgender Male
Cisgender Man
Cisgender Woman
Female to Male
Gender Fluid
Gender Nonconforming
Gender Questioning
Gender Variant
Male to Female
Trans Female
Trans Male
Trans Man
Trans Person
Transexual Female
Transexual Male
Transexual Man
Transexual Person
Transexual Woman
Transgender Female
Transgender Person

But the path of continuous progress is often a zig-zag. This wonderful change has not saved the FB account of the very person (a Facebook employee) who brought it in.
Note that transexual is more usually spelt with a double ‘s’ thus: transsexual.

Welcome to my blog


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Parkerville Amphitheatre: a brief history 1966-2001, info about a documentary which had its first three public screenings in July 2015, and some myth busting:

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Mix Margaret Dylan Jones, MusB (UWA), DipEd, LTCL, ATCL, AMusTCL, AMusA.

Pianist, accompanist, composer. Teacher of piano, singing, theory, in the Perth area, Western Australia. Associate Composer, AMC. WWC Check.

Androgyne. Very early adopter of the honorific title Mx (or Mix) in 2002.


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Zig Zag Art Gallery Exhibition music

I had a wonderful time playing some of my favourite piano music at the Zig Zag Cultural Centre’s Art Gallery in Kalamunda a few weeks ago. It was the launch of the three-artist M.A.M.A. exhibition, which runs until 5th July 2015.

Over about two hours I played my Androgyne Prophecy (1977) and lots of pieces by Bach, Chopin, Schumann & MacDowell. This was all for ‘background’ or setting a mood, and many people told me how much they liked my playing and liked the effect.

The three artists in the exhibition are Anne-Marie Wharrie, Christiana Gagiano, and Sultana Shamshi. The guest speaker on opening night was Dominic Savio, monk and artist. Danielle and Sophie, daughters of textile artist Anne-Marie, took some great photos (below). There was a large and enthusiastic crowd most of the time.

It was nice to catch up with Andrew Partington (with the cap), a fellow UWA music student from way back.

This lovely exhibition is called M.A.M.A. (Mother.Artists.Mother.Artists.), with all the dots,  because these roles (being a mother and being an artist) keep getting interrupted. See and

Anne-Marie is now making me a really nice fabric covering for my digital piano to replace the temporary one used on the night. Then I’ll be all set to play for more launches!

See my second blog post about Anne-Marie’s art. She used an original piano composition of mine as the sound track for a video:

.20150605.07 MDJ at Zig Zag7220150605.10 MDJ at Zig Zag7220150605.12 MDJ at Zig Zag, pic by Danielle W 7220150605.13 MDJ at Zig Zag, pics by Danielle W 72

Peter Clark tuning my piano

Peter Clark is here as I write, tuning my 1903 Thürmer upright piano. And no doubt doing a great job. He’s tuned it several times over the last two years.

He found it had gone very sharp through the middle which often happens in winter. And he will fix the broken damper pedal.

I’m NOT going to go into the details of the very sorry tale about how my lovely old piano ended up with damaged hammers before I found Peter apart from saying this: contact Peter for all your piano tuning and repairs. He’s brilliant. If he says he can fix it, he can!

See his very interesting site at or call him on 0417 927 594.

Piano tuner Peter Clark

Photo of Peter holding the pedal.