Piano Bush Magic
Something about the concept of two people pushing a piano across country brings out the best in people. Maybe because it makes the cliche of the struggling artist tangible. Maybe because passersby are a little bit tickled by absurd, and the sight of a piano in a paddock shocks them out of thinking about what to cook for dinner and when to take the garbage out.
Or maybe everyone is just humouring us. Regardless, we've met some bloody good people by pushing this piano around.
Hughie and I drove past a crumbling ruin of a house in a paddock today, and decided it was the perfect place to film “Save the Throwing Stones.”
“… Cos there’s too many rooms… in this house with one light…”
We called the Quirindi Village Museum down the road to try and work out who owned the property. They didn’t know, but told us to leave it with them. That afternoon, they made a heap of phone calls on our behalf, finally tracking down the owner. How’s that for service.
That evening we filmed in the paddock as the sun went down. Halfway through a take, a ute pulled up and two people got out. GET THIS: they knew we were coming, because when we were filming with the burnt-out car in Kingswood (50km away), a bus driver had driven past… and he had mentioned to the lady that two crazies lugging a piano were making their way west (my first taste of fame?) Anyway this lovely lady and her son stuck around to listen, so we gave them a cameo.