It is an enticing trail of auditory breadcrumbs: gentle dynamics, haunting harmonies, and syncopated rhythms.
These sounds drift into the ears of passersby in Manhattan’s Little Island, a public park artificially suspended above the Hudson River. Their source is found nestled among the many food trucks, paths, and picnic tables. A modest crowd has begun to form around a young man and an upright piano.
The man’s name is Abhinna; the piano’s name is “Sakura for Kusama.” The man wears a loose shirt and faded jeans. The piano has a blue background and paintings of two cherry trees, with pink blossoms decorating the top of the instrument and petals suspended mid-fall across the lid and lower panel.
While many visit the Little Island to chat with friends or admire the river, Abhinna came simply to play piano. He began teaching himself music two years ago and recently started taking lessons. Today, he is practicing Liebestraum No. 3 by Liszt.
Liebestraum means “love dream” in German, and Abhinna fittingly first discovered the piece soon after he experienced a break up. He immediately resonated with the expressive melodies, envisioning a reflection of his recent broken relationship.
“It was a very advanced piece for me at the time, but I was like, I’ll learn it, and then get over her. And I think it worked,” Abhinna said. Surrounded by the Little Island’s meticulously landscaped scenery, his piano playing unleashes a different form of beauty–music fueled by tangled, messy raw emotion.
The Little Island is one of eighteen public piano locations across the five boroughs. These instruments are distributed by the nonprofit organization Sing for Hope and remain available throughout the month of June 2025. After June 30th, 2025, the pianos are then donated to local public schools or hospitals.
Throughout the past twenty years, Sing for Hope has provided over 750 pianos to communities worldwide, championing the importance of music education and accessibility. But the organization’s immeasurable positive impact blossomed out of tragedy, when Co-Founders and Co-Executive Directors Monica Yunus and Camille Zamora, both professional sopranos, were students at the Juilliard School during 9/11.
“Everyone’s world changed that day. Certainly mine did,” said Yunus. It was the first day of her master’s program, so she had made an effort to attend school despite the terrifying news reports, frantic phone calls from family members, and unpredictable subway delays. When she finally arrived, a security guard whom she had known for four years asked to see her ID. Then he informed her that classes had been cancelled.
In the following days, Yunus and Zamora witnessed the fear and grief overwhelming their local communities. One such example was less than a block away from Juilliard–a firehouse that had served as first responders during the attack. Twelve of the thirteen firemen were killed.
Yunus, Zamora, and some peers decided to visit the firehouse and comfort the family members anxiously awaiting news about survivors. “It was almost like holding a vigil…we started singing songs, patriotic songs, songs of hope,” said Yunus. This moment sparked the idea for both the name and the mission of their future organization. “The arts play such a key role in moments of deep grief, in moments of catharsis, in moments of joy, so how can we take this amazing thing that brings people relief and create an organization around that?”
The answer was five years’ worth of conversations, rejections, and learning to understand “no” as “not yet.” Finally, in 2006, Yunus and Zamora secured 501(c)(3) designation and founded Sing for Hope.
“We wanted to bring what we’ve studied for so long not just to an incredible stage, like the Metropolitan Opera, but also to communities of elders and public space,” Yunus remembered envisioning. Eventually, these aspirations sharpened into five distinct facets: education, public health and wellbeing, cultural diplomacy, creative workforce development, and the Sing for Hope Pianos.
In collaboration with the New York City Department of Education, Sing for Hope has introduced music to children through arts curriculums, afterschool programs, and a youth chorus. They also connect with people in hospitals, elder care facilities, and refugee camps, using music to bring relief in difficult or painful situations.
The Sing for Hope cultural diplomacy program uplifts the arts through activism, arts panels, and programming at the United Nations and other international organizations. Sing for Hope further supports artists by providing paid compensation for all performing artists partners, even during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It’s like a prism with many facets,” Yunus described these diverse forms of outreach. “Music is such a balm for everyone. It is extremely important in difficult times. And that’s a huge source of joy, that I’m helping amplify this through our work at Sing for Hope.”
Sing for Hope’s desire to promote the arts includes both musical and visual arts. That’s why each Sing for Hope public piano doubles as a mural, painted by a local artist. This summer, the public pianos throughout New York City depict soaring swallows, brightly-colored abstract patterns, and mosaics of human faces. Each instrument reflects a unique narrative and personality.
“With 750 Sing for Hope pianos, no two are alike,” observed Yunus. “That speaks to creativity in such a powerful way–it is an endless resource that we all have access to. The pianos represent our mission of art for all so beautifully.”
Back at the Little Island, the sun has begun to dip beneath the trees and gently color the surrounding river. A group of teenagers walk up to the piano and take a minute to admire the design. Two of them hold red and yellow popsicles. They pass the popsicles to a friend and wipe their sticky fingers, sitting down at the piano bench and tentatively exploring the opening bars of an improvised duet.
Their hands fumble, but they laugh and continue, enjoying the extreme ends of the piano’s range. Fingers chase each other up and down the keyboard, from the grumbling lower register to the tinkling upper keys. But their popsicles are melting. The teenagers get up and wander away.
A few minutes later, Arsi sits on the bench and plays the foreboding opening phrase of a Chopin scherzo. From there, she improvises, flowing effortlessly between musical styles and impromptu melodies.
Arsi studied piano from second grade to high school, but she hasn’t had the opportunity to play in the past several years. The Sing for Hope Pianos are “literally my only chance to play and meet new people,” she said. “It’s really amazing.”
Arsi also resonates with Sing for Hope’s aspiration of providing inclusive access to the arts. “You work to live, but music gives life beauty and gives a sound to the world around you,” she reflected. Whether someone is a professional musician or trying out an instrument for the very first time, public pianos are a valuable resource and mode of self-expression that transcends age, talent, and socioeconomic status.
The concept is simple, yet these pianos are deeply appreciated by New Yorkers and people across the globe. Yunus’ parting words are universal: “Play a chord. Learn a tune. Make some music. Get out there and play!”
Whether someone is a professional musician or trying out an instrument for the very first time, public pianos are a valuable resource and mode of self-expression that transcends age, talent, and socioeconomic status.