琴鍵牽著跳舞的木頭人偶

Seen in side cutaway, a carved wooden figure sits at a small upright piano, fingers pressed deep into the keys. Three brass rods run from the backs of those pressed keys, down and across the floor, to two small hinged wooden plates — and on those plates stands a second carved wooden figure, caught mid dance step. The left plate noses down under the dancer's heel, the right tips up under the toes, timed exactly to the sinking keys; the rods are the only link between the two figures, and they're clearly what's forcing the next step, arms swinging off-balance as a result. Shot as conceptual kinetic-sculpture photography under warm studio light. Everything is carved wood with visible grain — pale maple for both figures and the piano, a walnut base, rods capped in bright brass — kept to a palette of maple, walnut brown, brass, and muted charcoal. Composed 16:9, the whole sculpture isolated on a fully transparent background, true alpha = 0, never white, never colored, no checkerboard, every part sitting inside the frame with even margin, transparency running to every edge. A soft contact shadow sits under the piano and the dancer's plates — semi-transparent black in the alpha channel, darkest right at contact, fading outward. The pianist's carved hands press the keys with four finger ridges and a thumb each — five digits accounted for on every hand. All wood stays plain and unmarked; no lettering anywhere.