Second Movement: Piano Lessons

     My piano lessons started a age seven.  Actually, they were my seventh birthday present!  My mother felt it was the perfect time to start.  At this age, a child can read, count and do a bit of math, all good skills to have when learning to play music.   My teacher, Miss Seitz, came to our house every Saturday morning for my lesson.  Miss Thompson, the  Head Teacher, would come by about once a month (accompanied by her three pug dogs) to make sure I was mastering what I was supposed to learn.  My good (and oldest friend--we are still in touch!) Kathie also took lessons from Miss Seitz.  In the spring, there was an annual recital, where all the students got to perform.
        

     A month or two before the recital, Miss Thompson would come by with a bunch of sheet music:  more challenging pieces that we could pick out and learn by rote.  For some reason, I was really into the minor mode, so of course my first piece, India, was in A Minor.  I still remember its plaintive tune.  (Call me crazy, but I can still hum it, and my second and third recital pieces:  Haunted House and Frolicky-Rolicky Wind.  And yes, they too were in minor keys.)
       

     At the recital, Kathie and I  were in the beginning student section, so we got to play toward the start of the program.  As I got older, I'd have to sit and wait for my turn to play, which did not help the butterflies-in-the-stomach I felt.  "Stage fright" is what we call that now, and there is medication to help adults with serious cases.  But at the time, I just sat on my hands and kept wiping off the sweat.  Finally it was my turn.  I went up to the piano, sat down and played my minute-long masterwork flawlessly, if a bit robotic.  When I finished, there was, thankfully, applause.  I curtsied properly and returned to my seat.  And there I had my first lesson in stage deportment.
        

     At the end of each recital, Miss Thompson would walk up front, stand by the piano, and proclaim, "Thank you everyone for doing such a wonderful job.  Now go out with your families and have ICE CREAM!"  I am happy to report that we did just that.  
      

     When Kathie and I were in 3rd  grade, we teamed up as a duo with at least eight other kids, two per piano, or four hands per piano.  We were all to play Mendelssohn's War March of the Priests (a bit of an oxymoron, perhaps) all together on 5 or 6 pianos at an upcoming outdoor recital.
         

      The concert was to be held at the Highland Park Bowl, a large band shell used for Opera Under the Stars and other music concerts in Rochester's lovely Highland Park.  In late spring, Highland Park is THE place to view and smell hundreds of some of the most beautiful and numerous lilacs in the country.  At the time of this particular musical extravaganza, however, it was well into summer.  Kathie and I had practiced our fingers to the bone, knew the music by heart, and were ready to go.
      

     The morning of the recital, which was to begin at 2 pm, we all had to sit in the seats assigned to us, in full sunlight.
    

     We had a run-through on stage and then returned to our seats to hear the more advanced students go through their pieces.  At 2 pm the program began and finished two and a half hours later to a very enthusiastic reception.
      

     On the way home, at least a 30 minute drive, I began to feel ill.  By the time we pulled up to the house, I was nauseous and had a fever.  "You must have sun stroke," my mother the nurse announced.  Ice cream or even sorbet was out of the question.  I ran into the house, promptly threw up, and so began learning first hand about the sacrifice one must make for one's art.

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     I kept taking piano lessons for another year, but gave it up not long after starting violin in 4th grade.  I am glad to this day that I started on piano, and I wish that I could play it better now.  I tell this to many parents who ask how to start their children in music.  Piano gives a child a true sense of high and low notes, sharps and flats, and pitch.  It also enables a child to learn both the treble and bass clefs, the two clefs used by most orchestral instruments.  Playing piano, lastly, develops the fundamentals:  reading music, playing by ear, counting, rhythm, scales and keys, dynamics and much more.  If you were to ask my colleagues in the San Francisco Symphony, I'll bet many of them  started on piano, and like me, wish they were better at playing piano now.  It's a great way to start music and it can carry you through the rest of your life.