A white package arrived at Mattias Krantz’s home in Sweden, the culmination of a five-hour journey – and a rescue mission. Inside was an octopus, saved from becoming someone’s dinner, an animal Krantz would soon name Takoyaki.
Krantz harbored ambitious hopes for Tako, perhaps even unrealistic ones. He envisioned a future where the octopus could master the piano, performing iconic melodies like “Under the Sea” and the chilling theme from “Jaws.”
Krantz, known for modifying instruments and showcasing his creations online, had long sought to teach an animal to play music. He believed the octopus, with its eight independently-controlled arms powered by complex nervous systems, possessed the greatest potential.
The reality proved far more challenging – and profoundly rewarding – than he anticipated. Hundreds of hours were dedicated to the project, demanding an extraordinary level of patience. A video documenting the process has since captivated millions.
“It was probably the worst thing I’ve ever done, and maybe the coolest thing, but also the worst ever,” Krantz reflected. “I never pushed myself to such limits.”
Krantz acquired Tako from a Portuguese fishery, a detail differing from the depiction in his online video. Upon arrival, Tako was introduced to a spacious 110-gallon tank, complete with rocks, sand, dog toys, and a sophisticated filtration system to maintain a pristine environment.
“You’re going to be the greatest pianist the sea has ever known,” Krantz declared to his new companion, affectionately nicknamed Tako. But first, he needed to earn Tako’s trust.
Initially, Tako retreated behind the rocks, refusing the crabs and mussels Krantz offered, freshly gathered from the Swedish coast. By the second day, however, Tako began to eat, and Krantz presented a preliminary test: could Tako remove a plastic lid from a jar containing a tempting treat?
Tako passed the test within three days, demonstrating a capacity for problem-solving. Krantz then designed and 3D-printed a single piano key, placing it within the tank. A reward followed each touch, but Krantz wanted more – he wanted Tako to *press* the key to produce a sound.
He added a lever, which Tako could wrap its arms around and pull. The key was occasionally dislodged and hidden amongst the rocks, a testament to Tako’s inquisitive nature.
Success with the single key led to a 15-key piano. Krantz watched as Tako curiously investigated the instrument, pressing its body against the glass. But when the piano was placed in the tank, Tako simply sat on it.
Krantz experimented with new approaches, determined to unlock Tako’s musical potential. He introduced an underwater speaker, allowing Tako – whose species has limited hearing – to *feel* the vibrations of each note.
Tako began playing random notes, but Krantz aimed for melody. He added symbols to specific keys – circles, crosses, stripes – and even pictures of an orange crab, but Tako remained unresponsive to these visual cues.
What *did* capture Tako’s attention? Movement. The octopus instinctively chased bubbles rising in the tank. Krantz seized on this observation, using fishing wire to wiggle the levers connected to the desired keys.
It worked, though Tako also enjoyed strumming the wires like a harp. A marine scientist later explained that octopuses are naturally drawn to movement, associating it with potential prey.
After a week, Tako played two notes in succession. Two weeks later, it played two notes simultaneously. But progress stalled after four months of intensive training.
Tako, being an octopus, had other priorities. It wrapped its arms around the GoPro camera, playfully squirted water at Krantz, and even staged a daring escape, hiding in a cupboard.
Krantz began to lose hope. But he noticed Tako consistently gazing at the piano, seemingly anticipating their 6 p.m. training sessions. He resolved to try one more strategy, fueled by sheer stubbornness.
He devised a system using an acrylic tube and Tako’s favorite treat – a crab – suspended at the top. Playing a key lowered the crab closer to the bottom. Krantz dubbed it the “crab elevator.”
Initially, Tako attempted to swim directly into the tube to grab the crab. But once it understood the connection between playing a key and the crab’s descent, motivation soared. Within weeks, Tako was playing seven or eight keys to earn its reward.
In mid-August, Krantz began accompanying Tako on his acoustic guitar, simultaneously wiggling the keys for the octopus to play. Each performance was followed by a well-deserved treat.
Tako never mastered consistent timing or accuracy. The performances were often chaotic, but occasionally, a semblance of harmony emerged. Tako even managed a rendition of “Baby Shark,” albeit off-tempo.
The mere fact that Tako could play keys at all felt like a dream. A marine scientist clarified that Tako wasn’t consciously playing music, but rather performing actions to obtain a reward.
Octopuses are remarkably intelligent creatures, capable of camouflage, den-building, tool use, and even projectile attacks with ink. But rhythm and tempo are beyond their comprehension. “It’s not perceiving rhythm,” the scientist explained. “It wants to do the steps it has to do to get the crab.”
Beyond the music, Krantz gained something invaluable: a friend. He decided to keep Takoyaki as a pet. Though octopuses typically live only a year or two, Tako, estimated to be around 14 months old, continues to practice its unique skill, performing recitals every other day.
Krantz remains in awe. “I can’t believe I sit here,” he said, “and play with an octopus.”
