Music, Art & Life

WHAT IS TOY PIANO? March 3, 2007

Toy Piano is a blog run by IVY, who is an eighteen year old girl.


C’est moi. Howdy.

Ivy listens to a lot of music, and is also very opinionated.

Because of these two traits, she thinks she is qualified to become a music reviewer/critic. She is going to college to study writing and journalism so that she can make this a reality.

Thanks to the advent of the internet, Ivy can practice her reviewing by forcing people to read her blog.

This blog is about music, concerts, movies, art, anything that Ivy sees fit to write about.

Please read it.


3 Responses to “WHAT IS TOY PIANO?”

  1. Phyllis Chen Says:

    Hi! I am hosting a composition competition for toy piano and electronics. Could I send my Call For Scores to you?

  2. I love your blog and I just wondered whether you’d check out our sounds:

  3. Requests for Toy Piano

    by Tony Hoagland

    Play the one about the family of the ducks
    where the ducks go down to the river
    and one of them thinks the water will be cold
    but then they jump in anyway
    and like it and splash around.

    No, I must play the one
    about the nervous man from Palestine in row 14
    with a brown bag in his lap
    in which a gun is hidden in a sandwich.

    Play the one about the handsome man and woman
    standing on the steps of her apartment
    and how the darkness and her perfume and the beating of their hearts
    conjoin to make them feel
    like leaping from the edge of chance—

    No, I should play the one about
    the hard rectangle of the credit card
    hidden in the man’s back pocket
    and how the woman spent an hour
    plucking out her brows, and how her perfume
    was made from the destruction of a hundred flowers.

    Then play the one about the flower industry
    in which the migrant workers curse their own infected hands
    from tossing sheaves of roses and carnations
    into the back of the refrigerated trucks.

    No, I must play the one about the single yellow daffodil
    standing on my kitchen table
    whose cut stem draws the water upwards
    so the plant is flushed with the conviction

    that the water has been sent
    to find and raise it up
    from somewhere so deep inside the earth
    not even flowers can remember.

    Source: Poetry (January 2006).

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