Piano Woman

This article appeared in my column in the Naperville Sun this week:
If music be the food of love, get me a counsellor! This week I discovered why it is so hard to get little kids to practise the piano. It’s hard!
The last time my fingers tickled, sorry beat up, the ivories, I was five years old. There was musical talent in my family, but somehow the pot ran dry by the time it came to me. My mother complained that I told the teacher what to do, but in retrospect I think it was a sign that in future years I would indeed become a teacher, although obviously not of music.
In Naperville music is everything. Every child I have met under 18 plays at least six instruments at near professional level, often at the same time. Sometimes they even march down the streets playing them.
So when I met a piano teacher who said she would like to teach more adults, I felt compelled to give it a try.
Kimberly Steele works at the Naperville Cultural Centre on Main Street. She assured me it was quite different learning as an adult and she would use a more sophisticated approach.
“Ok,” she said. “These black notes are the big house. These three, the dog house. In the big house lives George and Annie. Annie has a pet bird and George a pet ferret. Here is a picture of a ferret.”
The reason for the story for anyone who doesn’t read music, unlikely in Naperville I know, is that G,A,B and F are music notes.
“Ferret?” I said, completely missing the point. “Why not a frog? That begins with F and everyone knows what they look like.”
You can see why I had trouble as a five year old.
“I don’t know, it just is,” Kim continued unfazed. “Now these three keys are the dog house. The dog has two pets, the cat and the elephant.”
“Why would a dog have a pet cat, unless it was to terrorise it?”
“It’s just to help you remember the notes,” said Kim sweetly, although I swear I could hear her teeth begin to grind.
By reading and playing music, I feel I am learning a new language, which gives me a double disadvantage.
Crotchets, quavers and minims now have to be replaced with quarter notes, half notes and whole notes, although not necessarily in the that order I hasten to add.
I placed my hands on the keys. I felt like a pianist already. This was easy.
“Your nails are beautiful,” Kim said.
I glowed with pride. My fake nails are probably the most real thing about me.
“They’ll have to go. Pianists have very short nails, you’ll have trouble playing with those.”
We’ll see about that, after oll rhuy nevre cose me any trblo tipyng.
Kim explained that instead of playing kiddie tunes, we’d soon be working on pieces by Greig and Mozart. I felt inspired. See, who needs to learn as a child when you can jump so many steps by just starting in middle age?
We talked about the kinds of music I like and how I would soon be able to play them. After 10 minutes I was convinced I’d be the new Norah Jones. If I was really good I could hold my own recitals in Starbucks!
The half hour lesson flew by. Kim explained lots of things and I tried my best to take it all in. She was so positive, I felt this was my new calling in life.
“So, that’s it for this week, remember, lots of practise and see you next time,” she said when it was over.
Practise. Darn. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Could be a little difficult, I don’t actually have a piano,” I confessed.
Kim looked disappointed. Obviously this piano playing lark needed a bit more effort on my part. She suggested helpfully that I could come in to practise at the cultural centre, but I should consider getting my own instrument a second hand piano or a keyboard at the very least.
So now I have a new problem. I have been offered a friend’s piano, but these things aren’t easily transportable. Keyboards often don’t have enough keys, although I would have thought the fewer keys the better at this stage. So for the meantime I’m damaging the ears of anyone around the cultural centre.
Even with the door closed, I’m aware I must sound like a duck with its feet tied together waddling across the keys. I can only hope anyone listening assumes I’m a three year old. I make a point of sneaking out when no one is around.
I am pleased to say that just today I was able to pick out Deck the Halls with one hand, playing the entire thing myself by ear. It might have been better had I used my fingers, but you have to start somewhere.