As I stepped into the dimly lit industrial building in Mannheim, the faint echoes of tango music floated through the air. Before me, a weathered white piano stood solitary, a relic amidst concrete and steel. It seemed as if time had paused, awaiting its next chord. The juxtaposition of its elegance against the cold, gray walls spoke of forgotten melodies and moments waiting to be reborn in the embrace of the night’s dance.
