A Coffee Mugging

I have an aunt who has lived in her beautiful farmhouse for over 50 years. About 15 years ago, she looked around her kitchen and decided it didn't make sense to keep her coffee mugs in the cabinet by the refrigerator any longer. Her children had given her a dishwasher, you see. It would be much more efficient to keep the mugs above the washer now, than to walk across the kitchen to put them away by the refrigerator. For 35 years, the mugs had been by the fridge, now for 15 years, they've been by the washer.

When I went to visit her at Christmas time, she offered me a cup of coffee and we moved to the kitchen to make it. When it was ready, which cupboard did she go to? To the original by the refrigerator of course. She giggled, "oh what a creature of habit I am". And then walked across the kitchen to get one from above the dishwasher. I am struck by how relevant this event is to me.

I think that as "creatures of habit" that we will remember what we learned first. Success by 6, they say. Many of the changes that we make will come with great continued thought to actually remember what we changed. For example, I am learning a Chopin Ballade and working really hard to get the fingering right the first time. But on my first run-through of the 'hard part', I missed a note in the Right Hand passage. Now guess what, I still miss it. I will need to play it correctly more to break my habit. I don't like to have to change it later.

Another example I talk about with some students is this. Imagine that you now have to learn to tie your shoes a different way. How many times from now on will you absentmindedly tie them the former way?

My students are the same way. They work on correcting the mistake much harder and longer than if they would have done it well, and correctly, the first time. How hard it is when they learned it wrong at home for 6 days and come to play it for me on day 7. Depending on the student, it's not ever going to get fixed, if you know what I mean.

Today I am taking a personal day to rearrange the studio. I'm not moving pianos, but I am moving a desk, a keyboard, updating a computer, changing out a printer. I am going through books and music, recycling what I can. It will look much different and feel better to me. As I work through the clutter, I am hoping that I won't be moving the coffee mugs of my teaching life. But, only time will tell. (Picture=Can't wait for you to join me for a cup!)

Love is...

When I was a child, I had a small book by Charles Schultz called "Happiness is..." My favorite page was Happiness is a warm blanket. Here's a variation on that beautiful idea.

Love is going to a classical music concert even though you don't really like that sort of thing. It included dressing in more than jeans, which is also not your speed. It wasn't a great concert; you smiled and held my hand.

Love is whispering at the intermission that we're among the youngest here. It's looking into the balcony and realizing that classical music concerts are a dying art form and this may have been one of many memorial services. Love is remembering the dead, honoring the living. Love is the snoring behind me, the lady with the real fur, his dusty wingtips. Love is the man who conducts from the 12th row, his combover flapping gently.

Love is laughing with the percussionist who got to play the contemporary piece. One of the many unusual percussive devices used was a ping pong ball in a jar. You asked if it would be on his resume some day-I played ping pong ball with the chamber orchestra. "Yes," we pretend that he says, clearing his throat and trying to look modest, "I play first-ball". Asking him in person, we found out it was his first time playing a ball in public. Love is a smirk and a chuckle.

Love is nachos and beer after Beethoven. Love is talking late into the night; Beethoven suffered deafness because of his mother's syphilis and liked beer too. It is realizing that sometimes you need to see poor concerts to appreciate really great ones and that all live performances are exciting. Love is watching a paid professional group of musicians that plays together every day almost lose the beat. It is realizing our volunteer musician group can almost lose it too and that it's ok. No, it's much better than ok-it's real and it's the love between us that makes it palpably special.

Love is being part of life, not a perfect life, but a real one. Love lifts us all.

"Take away love and our earth is but a tomb.". Robert Browning

Taking the Reins

Before she even finished the piece, she was looking at me. "Well, how was that?", she asked. I replied, "Lift the pedal, finish, then talk to me, please."

I could have told her what I heard. But instead I asked, "If you were the teacher and I was the student that just finished playing, what would you tell me?"

"What?"

"What did you hear in your playing that improved? What did you hear that still needs some polishing and what's one spot that could really use some detailed, hard work?"

I feel I am at my one of my best moments when I'm teaching myself out of a job. If I do a great job in our lessons, they won't need me anymore. Eventually. I am not hear to teach a certain piece, or up to a certain level. I'm not teaching so they can win awards or pass a test. I want them to know that they could learn a piece without me some day. There is a special exhilaration from being satisfied with one's own performance. When we together realize that the day has come, I hope they smile, shake my hand, thank me, and I will wish them all the best. I will be so proud to have been a part of that journey. We might keep in touch, because we shared something meaningful.

You should have seen her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't really listening," she said. "Let me play it again".

Something about your Scales smells Fishy

It's Theme Thursday in blogland. This whole blogging thing is new to me, let alone following a theme. By looking at some of the other blogs, it seems to be beautiful pictures and poets. Can't compete-here's a groaner or two. Remember I work with kids-be gentle...

What do fish and pianos have in common?
They both have scales.

Which is the most valuable fish?
A GOLD fish.

What lies at the bottom of the ocean and shivers?
A nervous wreck!

Two men have been sitting out on a lake all day long ice fishing. One has been having no luck at all, while the other has been pulling fish after fish out of his hole in the ice. The man having no luck finally leans over and asks the other what his secret is. "mmmmm mmm mm mmm mmmm mmm mmm," is the reply.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"mmmmm mmm mm mmm mmmm mmm mmm," the successful fisherman repeats.
"I'm sorry, I still didn't understand you." The man spits something into his hand and says very clearly,
"You've got to keep your worms warm.

Remember, You can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish.

Prelude and Fugue

I have students working on Johann Sebastian Bach this spring and he's a stinker, that one. (I know what it looks like, but it's pronounced fewg.) Everybody gets a baroque piece; 3 students specifically have a Prelude and Fugue set. We hope to learn the art of voicing, that each hand's melody is important, fingering, phrase shaping, listening! The learning list goes on a long time; that is why Bach is so cool. He wrote a set in every key (that's 24 of them), twice! Brilliant! I've never been able to write one that I really liked.

Today they are all struggling with the same thing, and it's not the Prelude. It's the voices of the Fugue. It's allowing each hand to speak independently. I like to explain that it's like a lunchroom with 3-4 friends at a table. The conversation turns to a certain topic, and all 4 have an opinion about it. Most of the time the girl begins, then another girl chimes in, followed by a boy or two. We need to hear each person's voice and their opinion on the topic.

Here's the hard part. Most of the time in the music, like life, the girls continue to talk while the boys are speaking. It's the way it is. We need to let them talk, but we want to hear what the boys are saying, so the boys need to speak louder and the girls need to tone it down.

I broke it down to patting on our laps today. Just the effort of patting one hand louder than the other on your thigh can be tricky. Go ahead, try it, I'll wait. Pat your Right Hand (RH) firmly against your right thigh, now pat your Left Hand (LH) gently on your left thigh. At the same time. Got it? Now switch it around. Then imagine eventually doing individual fingers.

I also gave them the idea to voice their warm-up scales one hand louder than the other, and to try to write their first name with their other hand. Whatever you do with one hand, mimic with the other! This is mostly just to be silly. We'll get there, one musical sentence at a time. (Silo prelude and fugue, wrapping our fingers around it with ivy)

Frosty had a Meltdown

Rainy days and Mondays got him down? Remembering the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, "Then they threw my arms over there, and my hat over there, and my eyes are down there!" Or the gingerbread boy from Shrek, "Noooo, not my buttons, not my beautiful (gumdrop) buttons!"

Last, comma, First

We are getting ready for end of the year exams. Students will be responsible for memorizing repertoire in the four time periods, plus scales, chords, arpeggios, ear training, and sightplaying. Some of my students also add a hymn playing, new age, popular, or jazz element. Every program is as different as the child. We keep a list of quality pieces in the back of their notebooks throughout the year, so it's a matter of deciding details. They can perform as few as 4 but no more than 10 pieces for memory. Often that is the goal. It's as much work for Teacher, but the programs are valuable. There is a balance here-Junior should be a well rounded pianist, while Teach should remain well tempered.

I take a lot of transfer students who have not played any technique in their whole piano life. 7 years of lessons without a scale. It might be like no milk in a child's diet. Let's just give them soda because they like it better. Strong bones and teeth? I don't think so. Strong fingers and agility, not so much. It's astonishing to me sometimes because I always had it as part of my piano life. I believe technique is vital to progress. I've never met a great pianist with bad technique. (I have met poor pianists with great technique, however). When the students study here, we have to catch up sometimes to get their technique to match their music. Sometimes it doesn't ever quite meet.

I am beginning the process of registering students for their end of the year report cards. Their name will come handwritten in a handsome calligraphy, so how they want it to appear is one of my questions to them. Because it's so fancy, many young people (and their parents) want to use their full names. Certificates get hung on bedroom walls and shown at graduations I suspect.

My certificates as a student did not use my full name. There could be many reasons for this. As the teacher, it is a lot of work to ask them all and spell it correctly. My first teacher had over 100 students. This could easily have been a naming nightmare for her! I'm not sure she sent all one hundred to the auditions, but even half and you have a recipe for disaster. Misspellings alone, OY.

The only time I usually ever heard my full name was when I was in trouble. It was sometimes used by my grandparents in love, but most of the time I heard it loudly. You know the tone. And it was followed by "get in here this instant!", or something like that.

Today I asked students how their name should look on the report card. Some asked why I wanted to know. I showed them the cards and many of them chose to use their full names. But one youngster said, "will you ever use it against me?" I laughed my best low, sinister "bwaaa ha ha", and said "Of course, I remember these things. The next time you are mutilating your scales, I'm gonna pull it out!" Smiling she said, "well then, my full name, including my second and third middle name, and my Grandma's names is" and she rattled off a list almost as long as Carla Tortelli from 'Cheers'. (Carla Maria Victoria Angelina Teresa Appolonia Lozupone Tortelli LeBec, if you were wondering. What a great character.) I probably really WON'T forget some of what she said! Hilda Bertha Augusta sort of sticks with you that way.

But she only want first and last on the certificate, with all the initials in between. Good luck at headquarters when they write this one.