stands out from the wall, just to the right when entering. Only after passing it’s back wearing a piece of African batik as decoration put on with drawing pins, one understands that it is a large upright piano with profiles and candlesticks around the music stand.
It’s in my study and at the same time our dining room. We live on the first floor of a villa in Hellerup. Here I write my compositions, teach saxophone playing, as well as piano and singing.
At the table I can sit and let my eyes fall on the sketch for a new piece og music. Despite the distance, I discover a mistake, get up and walk over to put the necessary sharp for a C.
“That green piano is actually one of the first things I can remember,” says my youngest daughter. She’s over forty now, and in my attempt to figure out where the piano came from, I’ve talked to family, friends and colleagues from that time because:
“Who painted it green?” I cannot remember me doing it, so I still don’t know.