Certain things were impossible, others I just wish they had been. Then they wouldn't have happened.
I would have said that teaching my son, Sage, to play the piano "wonderfully" within an hour would have been impossible, but it happened and the un-parental part of me wishes it had been impossible. Yes, I am glad o' the resultants, but it was a frozen moment and peppered with beggings for him to consider quitting piano. He wanted to just play the notes not music and sounded as bad as most "talented" young pianists.
(He is now a version 12.5 kid and has been at the keyboard now for two years plus a little.)Sage did not want to adjust his hand/finger/wrist position/movements and play from the solar plexus. While dealing with his ego/crying/sheer anger and deeply analyzing myself as to my pushing him for my own paternal motives
(the quote, paraphrased, comes to mind, that "The most important influence of childhood is what our parents did not achieve") and trying to figure out as quick as that instant-satori moment of Zen - what the heck were the exact, intricate changes he must make and how to communicate them? All this from me, who incorporates things musical then erases within, all trace of how they got there and why to do things so. Then afterwards, the playing feels intuitive, instinctive for me. And I knew the window of teaching him this was very small or he would have just closed off. Well, I did it.
It was like that scene in Star Wars, A New Hope where Obi Wan on board the first death star memorizes the mappings of that death star and how to disable its tractor beams at speed-reading speed. My mind raced.
Once I figured out his very specific needs it was sort of easy. I won't go into the details of the motions, positions and concerts of ebows, fingers and wrists - your eyes would just glaze over.
But once shown he played well, completely differently. And the actual physical teaching took only twenty minutes or so. And yes, I also know it will take some gentle reinforcement over time to make all this natural and habitual.
The next day my wife played hooky from school and heard Sage practice from the other room and wondered at the change - very noticeable. Then she came in to see him and later told me that he now looks like a pianist when he plays.
After Sage's two years of piano lessons, this is the second time I actually got involved. My wife said that this help is why, when if you come from a musician's family, it's a big advantage for learning music. but its also the learning from just noticing without knowing they are noticing how the musician parents do subtle things. His teacher is terrific for him
(yes, most of the time parents think their child's music teacher is the greatest when the teacher might not be so, true especially for unmusician parents), but he needed a different help here. Yeah, I'm tooting my own English horn, but hey, I am convalescing from the lesson and still trying to deal with the aftershocks yet 36 hours later the quake.
The whole experience reminds me of the man who designed the giant, giant turbines for a dam
(was it the Hoover?) and they stopped moving. He was called in to consult in the great emergency. He walked around and looked at the situation, picked up a sledge hammer and went to one of the turbines. THWACK. It groaned and fidgeted and then then hummed full force, starting the others with it. They thanked him but two weeks later had to call him up angrily at the $10,000 bill, which in today's money is probably like above 10
million dollars. Where did he get the nerve to charge $10,000 for just hitting the turbine with a sledge hammer? He capitulated by saying he would send them another bill. A week later they received the second bill, this time itemized... Hitting the turbine with a sledge, $10; knowing where to hit it, $9,990.
Sometimes it takes just a small adjustment but you have to be very precise and knowledgeable.
Please remember, this was for Sage's specific habitual technique adjustments and for his specific hands, everyone's hands are unique (though there are some very basic principles here). Maybe I feel a little better after my rant. It is 2.40 AM here in New York time, no wait, now that the pictures are in, 3.15.
photo links:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamie_marie/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/arteunporro/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/residae/
Yesterday, got my son laughing when I played the recorder and incorporated the steam radiator's soft, plaintive D into the song. The quite recorder-like radiator played somewhat regularly every 20 seconds, sometimes with and extra toot or two.
providing quality attention/guidance all the time then staying up all night to write music or whatever. Today we get to go to our favorite cheep-o Japanese restaurant in midtown, Zhia (really wrong spelling, I know), and go skating behind the 42nd street library in gorgeous Bryant Park. Here's the last question of the day, what are the names of the two famous lions outside the front of that library?
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