FOR MIKE
May the rustling sky receding
Forever in the sounding sea;
May the edge of your horizons, bleeding Rivers from infinity;
May your singing island nights Check the tide and stop the wind That wrenches music from our lives, Our world safely pinned
Against the hollow gales that rise, The howl the chasm pits
Against the tuning of the skies - May the breezes that the island fits
Around your garden
And your palms
String and voice the beaches with your calm.August 27th, 2024, Fishtail, Montana
Peter Halstead
Fishtail was the perfect village for Mike Toia. It was all about the trout and their tall stories.
Mike was our friend. Always cheerful, anxious to help, to take the Sudbin kids fishing, cook up a trout that Zoltán caught, knock a piano down at the last minute - Mike was always in the best of moods, so happy to be working with virtuosi, to be providing
an instrument for the Red Lodge Festival. He tuned for the valley for free, out of his own generosity.
He had started with a piano store on Long Beach. When his golf career was hampered by a jealous coach, his mother said, “You should be a piano tuner.” And Mike immediately went and became a piano tuner.
Steinway discovered him and trained him. He tuned for Behzod Abduraimov on the
Big Island of Hawaii, and recommended him—one of the great artists of our age—to Tippet Rise. He ended up working with the Bravo! Vail Festival, as well as us. He would travel at a moment’s notice from Hawaii to Montana for a residency, a film, a concert.
He was not just liked, or even loved. He was beloved. He was the spirit of Tippet Rise. His voice will always be on the autumn, over the hills. His stewardship of Horowitz’s piano, of Vail’s concert Steinway, of Franz Mohr’s piano brought them to the height of their powers. Stephen Hough said they were the greatest pianos of any hall in the world.
Mike will always be in our memories, his cheer ringing out first thing in the crisp mornings, or in the debrief after a great concert, when a piano had stood up once again to a serious beating.
Mike loved everyone. And Mike, we loved you back.
Now
Mary Grace Toia
in someplace,
some river
opening to take you along passing through the line-up of all
in attention
to bow to you.
Now
you swimming
with all the fish
leading you
to that promise learned. Now
all the strings
never breaking,
perfect pitch,
holding you on their sound floating you to that place who you truly are.