Going out

A few Fridays ago, several friends and I decided to stop by Gare Montparnasse,a train station that happens to have a public piano available to anyone who wants to play. With one pianist and several singers in our group, we figured we’d mess around for a little while before heading off somewhere else for the rest of the night. We ended up staying there for four hours.

Here’s the thing about being a group of friendly, mildly talented youths taking advantage of free instruments: People come to listen to you. Sometimes they even stick around, hoping for a conversation or an opportunity to make a request.

That night, we befriended several interesting people, most of whom were waiting for their trains to arrive (when asked whether or not we were waiting for our own trains, we awkwardly replied in the negative: “No … we just wanted to use the piano…”). Included in this group of new acquaintances were a sound engineer with a one-handed triangle (the percussion instrument) in his backpack, an old woman carrying a huge grocery bag full of snacks, a well-groomed young man who tried to improvise higher melodies over whatever song we happened to be playing and a very philosophical homeless man who did not hesitate to share with us his thoughts on life, the universe and everything else.

We started out the evening playing standard piano fare -- The Beatles, Elton John, Vanessa Carlton. Then our sound engineer friend took his turn tickling the ivories and we collaborated on Britney Spears’ “Toxic” (2003) and Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” (2010). In between songs, the old woman tried to talk to us about French music in the 1940s, about which we unfortunately knew nothing whatsoever, though we were happy to listen to her enthusiastic explanations. Then, around 1:00 a.m., the homeless man took over the keyboard.

After several long minutes of tuneless banging, he turned to us and asked a deeply thoughtful question: “What are the three universal languages?”

We were baffled, of course, and did our best to guess. Our first try -- music -- was apparently correct, but after that point we were stumped. A long series of guesses and rejections ensued. The man tried to lead us down a train of thought toward his answer, but he was speaking very confusing French and it was very late at night, so we understood little of what he said. Finally, we arrived at the answer he was looking for: That the three universal languages are music, geometry and love.

What a perfectly Parisian mindset. Music is clear enough; in my opinion, there isn’t any other medium that better influences and expresses our emotions. Geometry, too, because symmetry is comprehensively beautiful -- Paris itself is evidence enough of that, as it may be the most symmetrical city ever designed. And finally, love: Paris isn’t called the ‘city of love’ for nothing -- turn any corner in the city and you’re sure to find a couple or two sharing a smooch.

We had to leave the station shortly after this ‘big reveal,’ which disappointed us slightly. Our desire not to miss the last train of the night won out, though, so we said goodbye to our friends at the piano and left.

In the subway station, we walked by a man playing the Sexy Sax Man song on a tarnished saxophone to a crowd of couples holding hands beneath the arch marking the entrance to the train tracks.

Music, geometry and love. I think he might have been onto something.