The Pianodrome has long been one of Edinburgh’s most distinctive cultural projects.

Its home in Bruntsfield’s St Oswald’s Hall feels like a natural progression. Among the wide range of performances it hosts, this week saw something particularly special: a live recording of a brand new film soundtrack by the multi-instrumentalist group S!nk.

A film worth revisiting

The Pianodrome creates interactive sculptures and performance spaces entirely from upcycled, disused pianos. Its centrepiece is a 100‑seat amphitheatre built from hundreds of piano parts, down to the very screws. The structure itself acts as a resonant musical instrument. Considerable work has gone into their new space in Brunsfield (St Oswald’s Centre) since it first opened. Many stages still lie ahead, but the Pianodrome team are clearly committed for the long term.

On Easter Sunday and Monday evenings, the venue hosted a remarkable performance by the musical group S!nk. They are engaged in an ambitious project: recording original soundtracks for classic silent films. As A private show for an invited audience, there was a slightly mysterious feel to the evening. This time, the subject was Battleship Potemkin, Sergei Eisenstein’s 1925 masterpiece, widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made. Pioneering in its use of montage theory, with rapid, rhythmic editing designed to provoke strong emotional responses, the film remains most famous for the “Odessa Steps” sequence. In it, Tsarist soldiers carry out a brutal massacre of civilians. Though largely fictionalised, its imagery — including the runaway baby carriage — has been referenced, homaged and parodied countless times. S!nk are not the first contemporary musicians to take on the film; the Pet Shop Boys recorded a score of their own. What made this event unusual was that S!nk were recording their soundtrack live, in front of an audience.

Recording live in the moment

S!nk opened the evening by explaining that they had been commissioned to create scores for films as part of an ongoing project supported by several organisations, including the Filmhouse. They have performed the Potemkin score before, both at the Filmhouse and at the Star & Shadow community cinema in Newcastle. S!nk hope the recording will eventually form the basis of an album. They were drawn to Battleship Potemkin because its once‑radical techniques have become so fundamental to filmmaking that the film still feels surprisingly fresh.

Their choice of the Pianodrome was equally deliberate. They spoke of the space’s intimacy, the “beautiful acoustics” created by the hall and the piano‑part amphitheatre, and the way sound visibly travels through the wood. Crucially, they emphasised the audience. Playing in front of people, they said, “brings something special to the music.”

Please hold your coughs

We were gently warned not to participate too much. The live recording required near‑total silence. We were encouraged to get our coughs and sneezes out before the performance began, and to double‑check that our phones were switched off. The film runs for one hour and nine minutes. In an age of constant screens and notifications, there was something refreshing about being asked to switch off completely and give full attention to the music and images.

As we entered, we were also told that the venue was “colder than outside” and invited to take a blanket and a cup of tea. Both were gratefully received.

Music that grows with the film

The performance began in a low‑key, minimalist fashion, with gently rhythmic accompaniment that supported the images without overpowering them. In the film’s early, quieter passages — which contain more humour than one might expect — the audience had to suppress their laughter. Using piano, voice, saxophones, strings, electric guitar, loops, and found and electronic percussion, the music grew in intensity alongside the film. As the action intensified and the revolt gathered momentum, the crescendos became more forceful, producing a surprisingly full sound that worked especially well in the emotional scenes.

The film’s pivot arrives with the death of Vakulinchuk, leader of the sailors’ uprising. His killing becomes the catalyst for the people of Odessa to join the revolution. From this point, the mood shifts, and the music shifts with it. Particularly striking in the latter half is the use of electric guitar: spare, patient, and expansive, with a few carefully chosen notes filling the entire space. At times it recalled David Gilmour at his most atmospheric. Combined with the violin, it produced powerful passages reminiscent of Neil Young’s 1970s work, including the wailing intensity of “Ambulance Blues” from On the Beach.

The jeopardy of live performance

A sense of jeopardy hung over the entire evening. Total concentration was required from everyone in the room to avoid mishap. The performers had to move carefully, almost creeping across the stage to reach different instruments, and the risk of one false step compromising the recording was always present. At the close, they thanked the audience for their silence, noting that one listener the previous evening had inadvertently contributed something audible to the recording.

When it ended, it came almost as a surprise. The return of the lights brought a collective release of tension, and the extended applause was well deserved. The audience was thanked for their “ears and their attention”. This, the musicians said, had “prevented us from messing it up.” The evening illustrated something that live music, dance and sport all share: performing in front of people can bring out something that rehearsal alone cannot. The right kind of pressure can push things further than expected.

Coming up: Nanook of the North

S!nk’s next performance at the Pianodrome takes place on 17 May, when they will provide a new live soundtrack to another silent‑cinema classic, Nanook of the North. On the strength of this evening’s performance, it is well worth attending.

Pianodrome Bruntsfield – St Oswald’s Centre, 41 Montpelier Park, Edinburgh, EH10 4NB