I paused near the entrance of Montreal’s Notre-Dame Basilica, caught somewhere between tourist and journalist. The morning light filtered through the stained glass, casting blues and purples across the worn wooden floors where I stood. This wasn’t my first visit to the iconic church, but today was different. Today, the basilica’s heartbeat was being restored.
“It’s more than a musical instrument,” explained Jean-François Latour, his hands hovering protectively over the century-old Casavant piano as we stood in the basilica’s east transept. “When this piano arrived in 1922, it witnessed every significant moment that happened within these walls.“
The Casavant piano—not to be confused with the basilica’s famous organ—has accompanied countless weddings, funeral services, and celebrations for generations of Montrealers. For decades, its rich tones complemented the voices of choirs beneath the basilica’s soaring Gothic Revival arches. But time had taken its toll.
“The piano was nearly lost to history,” said Latour, the restoration project’s lead conservator. “When we first assessed it three years ago, several hammers were broken, the soundboard had cracks, and decades of dust had accumulated inside.”
The Notre-Dame Basilica, a National Historic Site that draws nearly one million visitors annually, has stood in Old Montreal since its completion in 1829. The interior, with its deep blues, reds, and gold leaf details, creates a sacred space that blends French Gothic and Baroque elements unlike any other church in North America.
According to the Quebec Religious Heritage Council, instruments like this Casavant represent a unique intersection of cultural and religious heritage. Their 2023 report noted that historical musical instruments in Quebec’s religious buildings are disappearing at an alarming rate as churches close or undergo repurposing.
The restoration itself took eighteen months—a careful balance of preservation and renewal. “We’re not modernizing,” clarified piano technician Marie-Claude Simard when I met her at the conservation workshop in east Montreal last month. “Our goal is to return it to its original voice without erasing the character that comes with age.”
Simard showed me the original ivory keys, which had yellowed with time but remained intact. “Each key tells a story,” she said, tapping one gently. “The slight depression in the middle C—that’s from a century of musicians finding their place on the keyboard.”
The restoration team consulted archives at the Basilica and the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts to ensure historical accuracy. They used traditional materials and techniques wherever possible, though certain components required modern solutions.
“The wire strings follow the original specifications,” explained Simard. “But we’ve used contemporary adhesives in some places where they’re structurally necessary and invisible to the eye.”
When I returned to witness the piano’s first public performance since restoration, the basilica hummed with anticipation. Nearly 300 people gathered for what the basilica’s cultural director, François Poitras, called “a resurrection of sound.”
“In Quebec, we’re having vital conversations about preserving religious heritage as church attendance declines,” Poitras told me as we watched the final tuning adjustments before the concert. “This piano represents something beyond religion—it’s our shared cultural memory.”
The Quebec Ministry of Culture’s 2022 study on religious heritage found that musical instruments are often overlooked in preservation efforts, despite their cultural significance. Only about 15 percent of historical religious instruments in the province have received proper restoration.
For HĂ©lène PanaĂŻoti, executive director of the Foundation of the Notre-Dame Basilica, the piano’s restoration represents a broader mission. “We’re preserving not just an object but an experience,” she explained. “When visitors hear this piano in this acoustic space, they connect with generations past in a way that transcends words.”
As pianist Philippe Prud’homme performed Bach’s Goldberg Variations on the restored piano that evening, I watched the audience. Elderly parishioners closed their eyes, some visibly emotional. Tourists who had wandered in stopped to listen. A young music student recorded snippets on her phone.
“It sounds like it’s breathing again,” whispered Michel Beaulieu, 82, who remembered hearing the piano during his first communion in 1949. “That resonance—it’s the same voice I heard as a child.”
The restoration cost $87,000, funded through a combination of government grants, the basilica’s foundation, and community donations. While substantial, the investment represents a fraction of the basilica’s ongoing preservation needs, which exceed $15 million over the next decade according to Heritage Montreal.
When the final notes faded and applause filled the space, I lingered to speak with Prud’homme. “Playing a restored instrument is like having a conversation with history,” he reflected. “The piano has limitations and characteristics that modern instruments don’t—it forces you to adapt, to listen differently.”
As Montreal struggles with questions of heritage preservation amid urban development pressures, projects like this piano restoration offer a model for balancing conservation with continued use. Rather than relegating historical artifacts to museums, the basilica has returned this instrument to its original purpose.
The restored piano will now be featured in the basilica’s expanded cultural programming, including monthly recitals and educational workshops for local schools. According to PanaĂŻoti, these initiatives will help ensure the instrument remains part of living heritage rather than becoming a museum piece.
As I left the basilica that evening, the streets of Old Montreal were filled with the usual mix of tourists and locals. Few passing by would know about the careful work that had gone into bringing one piano’s voice back to life. But inside those stone walls, something precious had been recovered—not just an instrument, but a connection to the countless moments it had witnessed and the music yet to come.
