noteworth: lessons from pianissimo

It never made sense for me to be the screaming teacher that must always keep students edgy and learning from a space of fear and agitation.

I take a different approach.  I use a quieter voice and sometimes so quiet are my statements that my students start talking to themselves and become their own guiding voice.  Dolce.  Legato.

I'm not always as quiet though, I modulate my interaction and like the music they are working on, will have moments or measures taken on with statements that ascend and meet a crescendo.  While my student is playing, they become like an instrument to me.    Allegretto ma non troppo.

It's a very mindful thing to do, having a conversation while someone is also creating music.  I can aid them in being the voice that guides them as they get through difficult passages and choose yet to raise my voice when I sense there is slack in the moment.  Agitato.

STUDENT:  "Why don't you just tell me to stop every time I make a mistake."

JNET:  "I want to give you a chance to recognize it first and correct it."

So why not yell?  Get REALLY intense as some other teachers, coaches, and drill sergeants do?  You know those teachers; the ones who have tension in their body and aren't exactly students of the positive reinforcement method.

Where would the students' most powerful learning happen then? When someone is always burning a fire under their feet, yelling, driving an emotional rollercoaster..... Do I want to teach young people to fear mistakes, relate that answers come after a certain amount of berating.... from someone ....or their own inner mean voice?

We learn things powerfully in our silence and solitude.  Lessons become solid in the private conversations we have with our spirit of discovery.  Realization and revelation doesn't not have to be a painful place to arrive to.

The piano lesson...is the practice towards creating that discovering ear and stretching that imaginative mind to find that honest place of self-expression where one feels solid and real where they sit and play.

STUDENT:  "Wait don't say anything... How I meant to play it is this way...."

Its always moves me to hear, truly hear, my student through their playing.  I can hear what their favorite section is and in their hesitations know where they need a clearer understanding and connection.  I can even hear when they are hungry and tired.

We recognize all these different moments during the lesson for they do not fall on deaf ears. And my hope is that they not only learn how to listen to music and notes.... but also how to listen to life.

How's your listening?

JNET

noteworth: he called me coach

C played for the school football team AND he studied the piano. And I loved that he called me "coach."

Just a few weeks before our scheduled recital, C's mother came into my teaching studio, C trailing a bit behind her.

MOM: "Miss JNET, the recital is coming up and I don't know about this piece that C is working on...."

JNET: "The piece?"

MOM: "It's not an easy piece. C has been working on it and I don't think it will be ready by the recital. Perhaps he can play one of his former songs?"

JNET: "Why don't we ask C?" (turning to C) "C, your mother is concerned that we may have taken on a piece that is too demanding for you. Do you want to do this piece?"

C: (nodding his head) "Yes."

JNET: "Wouldn't you rather we polish a piece that we have already worked on?"

C: "No. I want to do this one."

JNET: "Can you be prepared by recital time?"

C: (nodding) "Yes, Coach."

JNET: (turning to MOM) "I believe him. Let's get to playing and working on the piece then."

This wasn't to be the only time a parent would approach me concerned that their child may not be ready for a performance. And each time, I did the same thing that I did with C; I looked at my student squarely in the eye and asked if they believed in themselves to be able to do what was hoped for.

Its a very powerful thing to see a young person own their choices with conviction especially since many young people may feel compelled to please their parents and choose to do what pleases their parents. Parents may also feel that they need to protect their child from not have a good performance experience. But when a young person wants to stand on their own word and belief to do something well despite anyone's opinion. Well, that's when you honor the young adult and trust them.

How did he do at the recital, you wonder?

He did very well. He was poised and most importantly, he also had fun. His parents and I were very moved and proud.

Things could have gone a whole other direction. I could have chosen to be intimidated by the parents' worries and not even ask C what he felt. I may had taken away the chance for him to do a challenging piece that he believed he could do though both of us had not seen it played with ease at his lessons until then.

Do we sometimes give more playtime to fear and insecurity than to possibility? Do we sometimes aid in the destruction of bridges to possibility or are we part of the bridge?

He called me coach. He knew we were on the same team. He believed in himself and he knew that he could reach his goal if I believed in him too.

Be a coach. Your belief is part of the bridge.

JNET

floating lessons

Do we live in less idyllic times or are we creating life to be less than idyllic?

Every day before coming home from work, my mom called home to check up on her children.  Were her ducks all in a row, safe and sound?

A couple of times, I had to tell her that no, I was not fine and that I was having a crummy day.  The boy I was crushing on was maybe not as nice as I had hoped or my girl bestfriend was not quite being her bestest at being a friend.

And mom would come home armed with balloons and candy.  I would have my cry and mom would listen.   She didn’t have a lengthy motivational speech and never a guilt speech to knock me outside of my misery.  She simply listened in a way that made me understand that I had to get myself through it and that she was there.  I rarely ate the candy.  Some of the lollipops were too pretty to eat.   I don’t really have a sweet tooth anyway.  I think I have a sweet eye instead.  I like to look at pretty things to cheer me up.

My childhood was filled with A LOT of balloons.

By the time I was ready for college, those balloons were an invisible influence.  Hurdle and hiccups of life were relatively surmountable and I think I intimidated the boys more than they intimidated me.  I floated and care packages from mom were the new balloons armoring me for city life 3000 miles away from family.  A boyfriend once noted that I lived in such a way that my feet don’t seem to touch the ground.  I’m only understanding what he meant now as I write of my mom’s balloon bouquets.

Life is different now.  There are bigger heartbreaks to recover from in a grown up world.  But my mom is still there.  She is my balloon.  The bouquet… my family and friends.

Do we live in less idyllic times or are we creating life to be less idyllic?

Be someone’s balloon.

JNET

noteworth: her way of never forgetting love

Some people have a way of endearing themselves into your life whether you’ve  spent a season with them or a mere afternoon.

M: “I haven’t had a piano lesson in a long while.”

JNET: “Never too late to begin again. Glad to have you. How long ago was your last piano lesson?”

M: “Eighty years.”

Eighty years!

M was only eight years old when her piano lessons were abruptly ended; her father had to sell the family piano.  It was the Depression and everyone had fallen onto hard times.  Valuables had to be let go.   I can only imagine how difficult that must’ve been for a young person to live though.  Carefree childhood of curiosity and play overshadowed by hardship.

M never forgot that she loved the piano and later in life, she and her husband bought a piano for their home in hopes that their own children may someday play.   She bought sheet music and sometimes entertained a moment to plunk out the melody but never sought a teacher for herself to continue her studies.  I’m not sure why she hadn’t continued her piano studies earlier.  Perhaps she thought it was an extravagance that she was waiting to lavish on children.

But children were not meant for the two of them.

Life was busy and full even though M never had any children of her own.  This woman had more life than a local ladies’ tea group.  She was close to her nieces and nephews and had many friends.  She had a busy social schedule and traveled.  But Life had finally slowed down a bit.  Her husband, best friend and adventure partner had passed away.

M: “These are mine and my husband’s favorite songs that we would dance to. I want to read the notes so that I may play them and remember him.”

And that is how an eighty eight year old woman came to begin her piano lessons with me.  I thought it was utterly romantic and I was moved.  This wasn’t a woman that was going to be weighed down by sorrow in remembering her love.

The eight year old child in her shined during those lessons.   The Depression had never quite fully darkened her childhood.  Teaching her cheered me up even though I was going through my own feelings of uncertainty in being new in the city.  She was eighty eight and she was delightful; playful, goofy and determined to learn.  Yet, she was very much a wise, old soul for her eyes would mist when a part of the melody connected her to a sentimental memory of her husband.  We shared a few moments of silent understanding before she would smile again and speak.  And when she spoke, sunshine would beam from her.  She was a negativity slayer, a rugged angel of high order.

I think of her every Christmas for I still have a few past holidays cards with a note saying she missed me and hoped to resume lessons again.  Her friends were becoming more frequently ill and she wanted to be with them.   We have not yet resumed.  Life became full and busy for me that I hadn’t realized that more time passed between us than I would’ve liked.

Perhaps I will find her this year.

I hope she did continue playing her piano without me.  Playing as a way to never forget love.

JNET