A quote from the NPR report: "It's getting people talking you wouldn't normally talk to, and the people you couldn't imagine...play."
This reminded me of one of my favorite poems, "Self-Improvement" by Tony Hoagland. Linked here, but here's the last stanza's kicker:
So the avenues we walk down,
full of bodies wearing faces,
are full of hidden talent:
enough to make pianos moan,
streetlights deliriously flicker.
Cold weather and moisture have taken their toll on the keys, hammers, and internal action. Some of the sounds captured by the NPR report sounded almost like some of John Cage's preludes and inventions for prepared piano. A little off-kilter, but delightful nonetheless. When the pianos are taken away, sometime around the end of the month, the world will still be a strange place, but less magically and less musically so.