How Edelweiss reinvented the piano for the 21st century

The piano was invented in Italy, refined by the French and near-perfected by the Germans. But for a period of time in the 19th century, models made in Britain were among the best in the world. Successful firms such as John Broadwood & Sons and Welmar were followed by the likes of Kemble and Knight, but by the time of the Great Depression the British industry was already on the wane. Cut-throat competition, a lack of innovation and the arrival of the gramophone were all to blame.

That decline was long and drawn out, but when Kemble moved its manufacturing to the Far East in 2009, that seemed to be that. It was a shame. Kemble’s Chappell-branded piano, one of which I grew up playing and now sits in my home in Essex, is a reminder that we could produce some great instruments – although while mine stays in tune and plays beautifully, it does feel rather loud and piercing. “I think it’s likely that the hammers are worn,” says Mark Norman at Edelweiss. “They can become hard over time, very percussive.”

Norman knows better than most. In the mid-1970s, his father decided to set up a family business in Cambridgeshire dedicated to repairing old pianos. He called the firm 1066, a nod to the family name. “We discovered the DNA of what makes a really good piano,” says Norman. “We called it rebuilding, and each job we finished was absolutely pukka.”

Edelweiss, a reference to the rarity and beauty of the Alpine flower, was founded 16 years ago as an offshoot of 1066. Its aim: to produce unique custom-made instruments (“We passionately believe that a piano doesn’t have to be big and black with three legs,” says Norman). 

But during the pandemic the length of the Edelweiss supply chain prompted the question of whether it might be possible to make a piano without sourcing parts from overseas, particularly the Far East. The answer, it turned out, was “almost”. The resulting piano, the new S132, is described by Norman as “the best small grand piano in the world” and, with the exception of the action mechanism, was made entirely in this country. 

We discovered the DNA of what makes a really good piano

Rather than reverse-engineer any of the pianos 1066 had rebuilt over the years, Edelweiss designed one from scratch. The first and most pressing problem was the frame, which is traditionally hot cast in iron. “No foundry over here could make one easily,” says Norman. “So this one is water-jet cut from steel and welded.” The search for British welders and fabricators who showed the requisite levels of passion for the project was a long one – but the wait was worthwhile. “They’re so highly skilled and so proud of what they do,” he says. “And this way, by working together as a team, we get better results.”

Edelweiss is known for its unusual, eye-catching designs, with transparent parts and elegant embellishments. Its very first piano, which is on display in its Cambridgeshire showroom, is a riot of primary colour. “We put it on the shop floor and it became our bestseller. It set the tone, and showed just what a piano could be.”

The S132 comes in some extraordinary variants, including the Solis (crowned with “sun discs” finished in 24-carat gold leaf) and a transparent model that reveals everything from the hammers to the pedal rods. I played a comparatively traditional version called the Eclipse in light oak, and the sweetness of tone and delicacy of dynamics was a world away from my rather shrill Chappell. I felt like I had more control; I could play more vigorously without individual notes sticking out, which ultimately meant it was more fun to play and, perhaps most importantly, made me sound like a better pianist.

Pianos are generally built to project sound rather forcefully (I’ve played a Steinway on the Barbican stage but it’s very different from what you want in a home piano), and that’s an issue Edelweiss has tackled head-on. “Concert grands in particular have high-tension strings and a very stiff, rigid soundboard, so the whole thing roars,” says Norman. “And of course that can give you a buzz when you’re playing, but if you aren’t a die-hard pianist you don’t really want that in your home, with the sound overpowering the room. You want something that’s beautiful to listen to. I don’t know any other manufacturer with this approach.”

As the only pianist in my home, if I want to listen to the piano being played I have to do it myself, with the accompanying restrictions on repertoire and, let’s be honest, quality of performance. The Eclipse, and indeed the whole of the Edelweiss range, can be supplied as a self-player, where MIDI files sent wirelessly from a tablet can trigger a solenoid rail within the instrument that ultimately does what your fingers would do, if they were able to: press the right notes, in the right order, for the right duration, with the right weight. Some models even let you record performances for playing back mechanically later on. 

“It sounds bad, but many of our clients can’t play the piano – but they love real, live, acoustic music,” says Norman. “You can do a fantastic job with electronics – Yamaha Clavinovas are very nice – but you’re hearing electronically reproduced sound. When you hear a piano, you’re hearing a piece of high-tension felt hitting a copper wire, and that does something different. It brings real beauty to the spaces we live in. And that’s really good for you.”