Healing in Harmony: The Story of Hospital Pianist Dan Perkis
Every week — often four or even five days — patients, families and staff at Greenwich Hospital are greeted by the warm, expressive sound of piano music softly drifting through the lobby. A kind greeting. Soft background while waiting. A companionable cushion to burdensome silence. At the center of it is Dan Perkis, an 88‑year‑old pianist whose lifelong love of music has become an unexpected gift to the hospital community.
Dan’s journey to the piano bench at Greenwich Hospital began nearly seven years ago, when he noticed a piano in the lobby. He asked if he could play. And he loved it, especially the rich sounds of the excellent instrument. At the time another volunteer pianist was at the keys and welcomed him to play regularly. Dan did and eventually became the hospital’s chief musician — a volunteer role he cherishes.

Tuning Up
A lifelong New Yorker, Dan Perkis recalls finding interest in music, and the piano specifically, at the early age of six. Even then, he says, he insisted on improvising at the keyboard — a way of performing that has appealed naturally to him ever since. Despite spending more than 70 successful years in another profession, music remained a passion and a balance to his career. “I’d come home and play,” he says, his hands folded gently over one another. “It was always my love.” His musical path included private study with respected composers and years of exploring everything from Bach to Broadway and beyond.
At the hospital, Dan plays a remarkable instrument — a Steinway from 1887, made in London and dedicated to the Prince and Princess of Wales. It became a generous gift from a local artist, who also contributed paintings to Greenwich Hospital. “The sound is just terrific,” he says, the smile meeting his eyes. “If you want a delicate touch, you need a good instrument, and this is a good one.”
For Dan, playing is equal parts instinct and emotion. He thinks of the piano as something that should “almost sing,” using phrasing, dynamics and tempo to bring each melody to life — part interpretation, part connection. His most requested repertoire spans the legends of the Great American Songbook, including George Gershwin and Cole Porter, showtunes by Richard Rodgers, and even a few selections from films, like “Nobody Does It Better,” in a decidedly Bond-in-repose pace. Dan says he also likes to switch things up with obscure sheet music that he borrows from the Greenwich Library.

For One and All
Unexpected moments of connection make certain performances especially memorable. For example, Dan recalls accompanying a talented soprano who stopped by with friends, turning the hospital’s lobby briefly into an impromptu salon concert. Visitors also request songs, and he is happy to oblige when the moment feels right. He remains respectful and alert to the space and the people visiting — why they are there. Sometimes he takes a break, allowing silence for patients or families who may find more solace in their thoughts than in even the most peaceful melody.
Dan plays from the heart. His aim is to bring emotion and authenticity into each piece, which, he says, comes from decisions about timing, touch across the keys and pedals, and the moving crescendos and diminuendos. He reaches for emotional resonance with his musical storytelling. “To give it as much life as you can put into it,” he explains.
Beyond improvisation and interpretation, Dan also teaches and composes music. It has become an important part of his life. He has written a piece a year for the past several years, including works for violin, flute, and, most recently, tuba and clarinet. But Dan is consistently moved by the grand expression and subtle nuances of the sounds created by the piano. “Hearing the sound from this piano — there’s nothing like it,” he says. For his upcoming May birthday, he has invited his family to the hospital for a short recital.
In Dan’s hands, music becomes comfort, companionship and a reminder of beauty — especially in a place where people need it most.