Most MMD folk who have been to AMICA Conventions will know of Rex
Lawson, the London-based pianolist with the immense beard, who
maintains the respectable side of the player piano's history by
dint of having founded the Pianola Institute with its sober and
musicological annual Pianola Journal.

Last Sunday, the 14th August, he married his now long-term friend,
Rona Eastwood, a freelance manager for a group of London choirs and
conductors, in a civil ceremony at Dulwich College in South London,
Rex's Alma Mater where some will remember the main events of the
1995 AMICA Convention taking place.

Nothing low-key here -- there were two grand pianos with two
Pianola "pushups" and a brilliant attendance from the musical and
mechanical-music worlds.  Later, a truly sumptuous reception was held
at Rex and Rona's house in Hither Green about four miles east, with
its large studio at the rear.

There ends the official description.  From here, we're running on
my tunesheet.  I had been vaguely charged to "play some rolls", but
exactly which and when were not in the contract.

One of the pianos was in the Lower Hall where guests could tank up
before and after the ceremony.  In 1995 the piano here had been a
slightly weedy black Danemann grand, but on Sunday this had been
replaced by an exceedingly ancient and very, very loud Steinway which
I reckoned dated from 1884, with an 85-note keyboard.  This dictated
that Rex's pushup, which is similarly maimed, should be used.

I got settled in with Ampico dinner music and old standards after
attaching the customary strips of "bin bag" film for sliding over the
eight outer notes for Duo-Art and six for Welte Licensee and Ampico.
The hall filled up and, astonishingly, the piano was not loud enough
and had to have the lid up.

Suddenly Rex appeared in some agitation.  "You're supposed to be
playing in the Old Library," he exclaimed!  What, me?

Yes, three of us were to soothe the guests using Denis Hall's pushup
-- 88 notes this time -- on a newish Yamaha, starting with me.  This
was entirely news to me.

Aware I would have no time to make up fresh counter-reproducing strips,
I snatched a smallish box of 88-note rolls and hurried across the
campus, just in time to start playing the Yahama before the guests
filtered into the Old Library for the ceremony, laid out as an
apparently permanent deconsecrated chapel.  It was only then that
I realised I had brought my complete collection of Tim Baxter's Meliora
rolls of handplayed Robin Frost pieces, some with John Roache playing
and some with Tim playing.  That was going to have to be the programme.  

Well, the registrars had said we were to have nothing religious!
So off we went: "Bozo Pants", "Hot Kumquats", "Long and Gentle" --
twinkling novelty ragtime.  The Yamaha had a super light touch; it was
ideal for the job.

At one o'c on the nail, the guests who had filled the space gave me
a long round of applause and Rex and Denis Hall as Best Man came and
took position.  Rona advanced, wearing a Hat of Hats, on the arm of her
brother Alan, and the senior of the two civil registrars from Southwark,
both black, addressed us all on the seriousness of marriage before
conducting the ceremony, which seemed to be the church one with God
removed using forceps.  Unlike in church, we were permitted to cheer
and clap at the appropriate moments.

During the business with witnesses and the register book, Wolfgang
Heisig from Saxony, with whom Rex is cooking up a premiere of
Nancarrow's pianola concerto next year, played an exceedingly serious
piece of Bach using a roll he had cut himself.  I didn't recognise it
-- a fugue, maybe.

Then the registrar announced that Rex and Rona were man and wife, there
was more applause and Denis saw the pair out with Mendelssohn's Wedding
March.  A super exposure of the Pianola which I gather had the effect
intended.  Even the registrars were intrigued.

Back at the R&R house, Rex had engaged old Indian friends from his
Honor Oak Park neighbourhood as caterers, so there was an embarrassment
of food.  In the garden studio, the Pianola Institute's Duo-Art
conversion of a Hupfeld 73/88-note pushup, confusingly still bearing
its make, Phonola, on the spoolbox cover, was playing Rex's considerably
rehabilitated Schiedmayer grand, somewhat too loudly, I thought.  Also
on display was the Harry Medcraft roll perforator with a strip of
transparent film over it -- no work done on it yet.

In the house, a 65/88-note upright Steck which Rex had bought off eBay
for 50 pounds was available for anyone to try.  Bob Wilson, a Friends
of the Pianola Institute committee member who is quite incidentally
a well-known tuner of celebrities' pianos, was breaking the ice with
his own rolls.  One day he may well persuade me at this rate that
Sidney Smith is worth listening to.

Some time later, two teenage brothers showed interest and I conducted
a tutorial on "Pedalling a Roll For the First Time Ever".  To judge
by the results, they or me or all three are star performers.  I know
I wasn't drunk because the caterers had furnished a Belgian lemon syrup
which was perfect with gassy water.

A memorable and happy, happy time.  Good luck both.

Dan Wilson

 [ A great report, Dan -- Best wishes to the newlyweds from all of MMD!
 [  :-)   -- Robbie