Anatomy of the Piano

Will Pickvance comes across like a music teacher whose marriage has fallen apart, causing him to retreat into a childlike obsession with his piano.

Taking place in a converted veterinary lecture room, Anatomy of the piano is a deadpan dissection of the instrument which revels in its own absurdity. Where an animal cadaver should like sits an upright piano, and Pickvance does for fake piano instruction what Tim Key did for faux poetry.

Pickvance bombards the audience with junk-facts about the evolution of the piano, but he does it with such earnest goodwill that you would be taken in by some of them. Made-up terms like ‘pianocity’ and ‘radial happenings’ recall the fictional science of Look Around You with their almost-meanings.

The show is driven by Pickvance’s obvious talent as a pianist, and he deftly manipulates the piano to make his points as he strips it down, showing how much can be done with just the one instrument.

The real drawback of Anatomy of The Piano is that it is too long to sustain a demanding audience expecting constant comedy. The final ten minutes in particular add nothing new to what has come before, but if you turn up expecting anything other than a disturbed music teacher performing a love letter to a musical instrument you’re in the wrong place.

It would be a stretch to call the show comedy at points, but it is diverting and amusing to watch. Not to everyone’s taste, but disturbing and endearing in equal measure.