Over the past two decades, the way we live has changed phenomenally.
Thanks to the tech wizardry of the past twenty years, we have bid farewell to our beloved, tiny-screened, backlit-buttoned flip-phones, and upgraded to sleek, flat gadgets that are manufactured with microscopic precision by our robots on automated assembly lines. Goodbye, pocket bricks; hello, touch tablet!
Remember those CD organisers that we used to clip onto our sun visors, making our cars look like mobile music libraries? Well, they've been booted out by YouTube Music and Spotify! Now, instead of parking up to sift through our precious CD collection (while praying we don’t scratch them), we can simply talk to our chatty onboard computers and tell it precisely which particular anthem best complements our mood. No need to pull over to change the track, now our cars are rolling jukeboxes with voice command!
Oh, how the business world has flipped too! Gone are the days of gladiatorial combat for a prime spot in the YellowPages. Now, it's all about crafting online content so dazzling it'll make a peacock jealous.
I must confess, I was once a maestro of designing printed brochures, but when it comes to sweet-talking those fickle social media algorithms, I'm more of a bumbling amateur. But hey, I'm giving it a whirl!
The way we spruce up our homes has taken some wild turns in this time too.
Sykes & Sons has seen it all, from the industrial/rustic craze to the vintage and mid-century modern revival, but out of all the 'trendy' styles that have sashayed in and out, 'Shabby Chic' wins the gold medal for making us cringe the hardest.
Picture this: dainty florals, white wood that looked like it had survived a hurricane, vintage textiles that scream “I’m old but fabulous,” and glamorous touches like baroque mirrors and chandeliers that think they belong in a palace. The nation adored this 'I've been through a lot' style so much, it spread like glitter at a craft party, with every high-street store jumping on the Shabby Chic bandwagon.
Even the piano world couldn’t resist, with hundreds, maybe even thousands, of pianos getting the chalk paint facelift.
While most of the furniture pieces (and pianos) that got the 'Shabby Chic' treatment weren't exactly museum-worthy or historically important, a few real treasures ended up looking like they had lost a fight with a paintbrush while the craze was at its peak.
Who, besides restoration specialists, would have thought that slathering paint into every nook and cranny, filling the grain, and enthusiastically attacking those gentle veneers with sandpaper for that trendy 'weathered' look would completely obliterate any chance of an economically viable repair in the future? Many were surprised to find themselves with a heavy, old piece that became unsellable when the fad faded and was no longer in vogue. Now, instead of a chic antique, folks are stuck with a hefty relic that’s about as fashionable as a mullet in a tuxedo. Just as quickly as the Shabby Chic fad kicked the bucket, another trend waltzed in and took the spotlight. We call this the 'Farrow & Ball phase'.
It's always been clear to us, and others in the restoration game (including the skilled decorators armed with their elegant brushes and an eye for detail), that this breed of furniture paint just doesn't hold up well against the rigours of everyday life.
It has proven to be incredibly susceptible to damage, scuffing, staining, and marking. The fragility of this paint finish is also a source of frustration for many owners, as it seems to attract imperfections like a magnet, often requiring routine touch-ups and repairs. It is a stark reminder of the pitfalls of prioritising aesthetics (and profits) over durability.
Now that several years have passed since this trend first gained popularity, we are beginning to see some of these pianos, once celebrated for their stylish appearance, reentering the marketplace and many of these instruments exhibit visible signs of wear and tear, with chipped paint, unsightly scratches, and discolouration that detracts from their original charm; clear evidence of what we have been saying all along.
Each premature imperfection tells a story of a hasty restoration attempt, leading to a deeper appreciation for the importance of quality materials and craftsmanship in the restoration process.
Okay, I've digressed. How does this relate to our refinishing of Knight pianos?
Our reconditioned Knights have consistently been among our best-selling and preferred pianos since I can remember.
Despite the aforementioned changes in home decor, which have been largely influenced by the rise of social media and accessibility to diverse design inspiration (I'm looking at you, Pinterest), the demand for our Knight pianos continues to rise each year.
I have a special affection for British pianos and I hold a few particular manufacturers very close to my heart, Knight being one of them.
My earliest days in the trade, as a young apprentice, consisted primarily of dismantling old pianos before they progressed through the workshop towards a restoration. At the time, we had a fleet of hire pianos made up of educational instruments from Knight, Danemann, Welmar, and Kemble.
These pianos would be transported to the workshop when they needed an overhaul and it was my job to take them apart, keep all of the bits organised, and strip the case components of the original finish, using a variety of chemical and mechanical stripping techniques.
Imagine squeezing into a tiny, dust-filled workshop, decked out in the world's most uncomfortable PPE to shield myself from the delightful mix of fumes, dust, and the ear-splitting symphony of the sanders and extractors. This was the "donkey work" that my seniors thought was beneath them so passed it down to me. It wasn't exactly glamorous, nor what I envisioned my journey into piano restoration to involve. It was more dust and less dazzle than I had imagined, but taking these pianos apart was like a backstage pass into the secret world of piano construction. These were my earliest opportunities to see and take note of the distinctive construction techniques between various makers.
Each manufacturer had their own style, but Knight? Oh, they were the overachievers in the class. How they meticulously picked every little detail was immediately obvious to me.
Alfred Knight's commitment to premium quality standards catapulted the company to international recognition in the 1950s and earned the firm a solid reputation for extremely well-made pianos.
His dedication and faithfulness to quality didn’t stop at the sound and performance of the instruments but also extended to the cosmetic appearance.
Alfred wanted his pianos to be a household star, the kind of showstopper that made the neighbours peek in with envy. Alfred understood that the piano couldn't be put in a closet when it wasn't in use. The pianos had to appeal to both the pianist and the homemaker. It had to be part of the room's eye candy, a furniture supermodel.
Alfred ensured the most attractive and stable cabinets by taking inspiration from Scandinavian furniture design and then fabricated the case components from very heavy, crossgrained laminated wood which was beautifully finished with the most luxurious exotic hardwood veneers.
Representatives of The Knight Piano Company travelled the world, from France, Burma, Africa, and South and Central America, to hand-select the materials that would eventually be used to produce their pianos.
Knight also went to extreme lengths to assiduously train a team of craftspeople in the art of veneer cutting, matching, and grafting and invested in the most preeminent equipment to enable them to achieve the most flawless final finish.
I couldn't help but catch the preservation bug, determined to keep that special Knight magic alive in my own work. I have run the Sykes & Sons workshop for 15 years now and my constant lower back pain is a ceaseless reminder that I'm no longer a young apprentice, but one thing that hasn't changed is my belief that my job, as a restorer, is to do exactly that... to restore. With that said, I wanted to take the opportunity to showcase one of the many Knight refinishes that have taken place here at the Sykes & Sons workshop.
This piano, an almost 50-year-old Knight K10, had belonged to the same family since it was new and came to us following a bereavement.
It carried the scars of sun-bleaching and water damage from an overhead pipe burst, but we knew exactly what we wanted to achieve.
Had the piano gone elsewhere, it may have been painted.
That gorgeous teak veneer may have been completely covered with opaque furniture paint because many sellers/workshops these days choose to paint pianos before resale as it’s cheaper and faster than restoring the original finish.
This refinish, using the same blend of natural organic oils that Knight themselves used, took me well over 7 days to complete. Painting could have been completed within 6 hours.
Alfred Knight and the craftspeople who trained in perfecting their craft for many years at the factory would be very disappointed to see their work being painted over today. The casework of a Knight piano is intrinsically linked to the instrument's prominence, so painting strips the instrument of most of its value and introduces suspicions; making the piano undesirable.
What I want to do, through my work with Sykes & Sons, is bring these instruments back to their best and keep that reputation for quality alive. Restoration is bringing back and retaining everything that made these pianos special in the first place, not covering their features with paint in pursuit of a quick profit and with little consideration of
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