On any given weekday afternoon, as students pour through the Lory Student Center on their way to classes, study sessions or to get caffeine refills, a few notes of music might float above the noise.
The sound comes not from a speaker but from a student seated at one of the public pianos nestled around campus, their fingers moving across ivory and black keys like they’ve done it a thousand times — even if it’s only their third.
These pianos have become quiet companions to the campus experience. Tucked into corners of busy campus life, these instruments are far from being center stage. There are no spotlights or scheduled performances. And yet, they host music every day, often performed by students with homework in their backpacks and earbuds in their pockets, taking a musical break from their daily routine. Some study music, but most don’t.
Some took lessons growing up and stopped, others learned from YouTube tutorials and some just sat down one day to see what might happen.
The piano just outside the south entrance to the LSC — a weathered upright piano with a vibrant mural painted in 2022 by local artist Kris B. Mendonça — is part of the Pianos About Town program in Fort Collins. Perched just to the left of the doors inside, this piano is rarely silent for long.
Creative writing student Katya Opitz stops at the piano any time she’s able to. Like many before her, she sets her backpack down next to the metal chair, lifts the fallboard and begins to play.
“I learned when I was a kid, but I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Opitz said. “I mainly play guitar, but I love piano, and this is one of the ones that’s easiest for me to get to, so I play it whenever I can.”
Opitz doesn’t have a specific song in mind when she stops to play, she explained.
“Whenever I play, I just do whatever is in my heart and see what happens,” Opitz said.
Unlike formal concerts, these impromptu performances aren’t announced or scheduled, and that unpredictability is part of their charm. A student walking past might suddenly find themselves listening to a soft rendition of Chopin. Ten minutes later, it could be Elton John or a jazzy improvisation with no name. No two days sound alike.
“I feel like it’s my way of chilling, you know, like, we all need something. People like my music, so I play for them a little bit and for myself a little bit.” -Saloj Abbas, CSU student
The two pianos located inside the LSC offer a different musical atmosphere. Two sleek, black baby grand pianos sit tucked away inside, one on the third floor, just before the exit to the stairs down to the West Lawn, and another that moves between a corner outside LSC Theater and the space next to the stairs at the southern edge of the Diane Warren Kindness Lounge.
Unlike the outdoor pianos, the baby grands inside can be locked and are not always available to play. When they are unlocked, it usually doesn’t take long for someone to sit down and begin filling the space with music.
Mechanical engineering student Saloj Abbas, a self-taught pianist who began playing around seven years ago, said he usually stops to play one of the pianos around campus twice a week.
“I play mostly from memory,” Abbas said. “Sometimes I play something and it sounds nice, so I just go with the flow and it becomes a tune on its own.”
At a time when student life is often fast paced and screen saturated, the public pianos offer something analog, unexpected and deeply human. For some, they’re a way to process stress. For others, they’re an invitation to connect, even for just a few fleeting minutes.
For Abbas, playing the piano is part stress relief, part self-expression.
“I feel like it’s my way of chilling, you know, like, we all need something,” Abbas said. “People like my music, so I play for them a little bit and for myself a little bit.”
Even in the brisk and unforgiving Colorado weather, it’s not unusual to find someone seated at the tucked-away outdoor piano — fingers moving with quiet certainty over cold keys as students pass on their way to their cars, trying to escape the cold. Some slow down without meaning to, caught for a moment in the sound. Even in the sharp chill of late afternoon, music finds a way to soften the edges of the day.
On a snowy Friday afternoon, graduate systems engineering student Felix Kuklinski sat down at the piano while he waited for the bus. The air had gone still with the kind of muffled quiet that only snow can bring. Footsteps were softer, voices lower. The usual hum of campus life disappeared for a while.
His fingers landed on a few chords, then a gentle melody emerged as snow continued to fall, softening the world around him as the delicate notes filled the space it left behind.
“I was honestly just trying to kill time, right now,” Kuklinski said. “I haven’t played in a while.”
The notes were slow and deliberate, rising through the air and catching on the wind. Nearby, a few students paused mid-stride, their heads turning toward the music as they left campus. No one spoke as the snow kept falling, and Kuklinski kept playing.
Kuklinski doesn’t stop to play one of the pianos on campus as often as some do and hasn’t played regularly since he was younger.
“I took lessons when I was somewhere in my mid-teens, like 14, I think, for two years,” Kuklinski said. “Since then, I’ve just been kind of meandering and playing every now and again.”
In a university culture that often emphasizes productivity and performance, the public pianos invite a different kind of interaction. They aren’t about perfection; their very existence offers students a rare space to just be. Whether it’s five minutes between classes or a stolen hour before a midterm, the students who play aren’t doing it for applause. Most don’t expect anyone to notice.
There’s no plaque that explains the purpose of the pianos. No sign-up sheet or waiting list. Just an instrument, placed where someone might need it. And every day, someone does.
Reach Hannah Parcells at entertainment@collegian.com or on social media @hannahparcells.
