I had my second first piano lesson last week. My first first piano lesson was more than fifty years ago, in September 1964, when I was in the fourth grade. I don’t remember that first lesson specifically, but I know I took piano lessons for six years from that point on, then stopped at the end of my ninth grade year.
But last week, I started again—time to work on another item on my bucket list.
Sometime around the year 2000 or 2001, I had a conversation with some coworkers about what we hoped to do after we retired. This was long before I seriously thought about retirement. Still, I declared to the group, “I want to write a book, and I want to learn to play Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata.’” I love Beethoven’s music, and I think this sonata is lovely.
Fast forward almost twenty years. In the thirteen years since I retired, I’ve written and published five novels, and I’m working on my sixth. Check off that goal (though I still have more books in me). It’s time to move on to my other retirement goal.
I should be able to do this on my own. After six years of piano lessons, I know the basics. My fingers and brain are rusty, my vision worse than it used to be (though I started wearing glasses about the same time that I started piano lessons), and I have trouble deciphering notes outside the treble and bass clefs. But I could overcome these things if I worked at it.
However, despite my resolve, in the past thirteen years, I have made next to no headway on the “Moonlight Sonata.”
I need someone to hold me accountable for sitting on that piano bench and playing. I need someone to show me how to get through the hard patches. I need a coach and a motivator.
So I signed up for weekly lessons at a school of music near my house. And I had my (second) first lesson last week.
We agreed I’m not ready for “Moonlight Sonata” yet, given that I never studied it back in the days when I could play reasonably well.
So my teacher assigned me to work on a couple of pieces that I vaguely remember from fifty years ago. I’d practiced those in the week between committing to take lessons and my first appointment with her.
With a combination of muscle memory and reading the music, I can play these pieces so they are recognizable. One of them is Muzio Clementi’s “Sonatina in C major” (Opus 36, No. 1). You can hear it played well here—I play it at about half this speed and full of errors.
My first lesson reminded me why I quit studying piano nigh on fifty years ago. My teacher told me what was wrong with my fingering. She pointed out each time I missed a sharp or flat. She cautioned me about sticking to the phrasing the composer wanted. She was right each time (though we jointly agreed that the fingering in the music book didn’t work as well in one spot as my own). She is giving me exactly what I need—and what I am paying her to do.
That doesn’t mean I like it. I don’t like having to stop making music to slow to a pace I can keep. I don’t like working with a metronome clicking in the background. I don’t like being told what to do . . . and what not to do.
But I will keep going. I will keep practicing. Because playing the “Moonlight Sonata” is still on my bucket list. I’ll get there some day.
What is on your bucket list? What have you done recently to turn it into reality?
Theresa,
Your continuing comments are enjoyable and insightful. As I recall my very busy corporate years (when I was away from home on average about 125 nights per year), I appreciate all the things I was fortunate to experience. My focus was on the development of numerous business relationships in the USA as well as international. What I regret is that I had very little down time when back in K. C. for family and friends.
The comments above were triggered by your stated desire to once again play the piano well enough to render an acceptable version of “Moonlight Sonata.” It would take far too long to respond as I would like but I, too, played piano beginning in my childhood years. My family was musical. I grew up in the Appalachian Mountains of East Tennessee where church was the religious and social center of our lives, probably much like the Oregon and Santa Fe Trail pioneers as they settled onto their large plats of land and immediately built a community church. I became church organist following my next oldest brother after he went to college. I was in our high school band and played several instruments. My family could not afford to pay my way to college so I gained a music scholarship at East Tennessee State University. Additionally, I was in an orchestra and a local five-piece band for local parties. During all this time, music was at the core of my life.
Fast forward (I can imagine you wondering, “Where is this going?”) I was in ROTC at ETSU and went in the Army in 1966, transitioning from fixed wing aircraft to rotary wing and wound up in Vietnam for all of1967 flying the UH-a Huey helicopter. Needless to say, music was left behind. I emerged safely from the U. S. Army in 1969 and luckily found a great job in sales with Hallmark. The rest is a blur……I loved my career, the people, the company and its products. Not until I retired in 1995 did I take up music again. My piano-playing brother urged me to buy a Clavinova (of which you may be aware) and I made the transition from a beginner back to tackling some of the more difficult pieces of music from my youth, e. g., the “Moonlight Sonata.” It took me months to recover some decent proficiency. I was so pleased with myself for making the commitment and keeping it. The Clavinova was my re-entry into something artistic and rewarding, and I play occasionally mostly for my enjoyment or for friends. The numerous options that a Clavinova allows makes it so much easier and more enjoyable. As an FYI, if you were curious, go to a piano store and have someone demonstrate the capabilities of the instrument. There are numerous used Clavinovas available (just like used pianos) in case you got the fever.
So, recognizing the challenge you have placed on yourself, I can tell you that my return to music was not so easy. I had very high expectations, too high in fact. I placed the Clavinova in my office where I could close the doors and practice. I remembered that listening to someone practice could be irritating so I chose specific times to practice, not wishing to alienate my lovely wife, Donna. (She always said she enjoyed it….?). The fact that you have acquired a piano teacher speaks to your commitment. I found that a “structured practice” was critical in my reemergence. I performed all my finger exercises first then played something I enjoyed for a few minutes, then advanced to the challenging pieces. Some days were better than others, like life. When I was making progress, I stayed with it longer. If my fingers were stiff or my back was acting up, I cut it short. But that’s enough of that.
I’m so happy for you that you are returning to the piano. Coupled with your writing skills, you’re definitely in the artist ledger. Your comments have been quite helpful in understanding where you’ve been and who you are today.
Good luck in your musical endeavors and continued success with writing.
Good luck with relearning the piano. I belong to a group of older performers who meet monthly – a good incentive to work up a piece to something resembling performance. The third movement of the Moonlight is challenging. Our group sometimes takes a movement each instead of learning the whole thing.
Thanks, Jan.
My first goal is the first movement of “Moonlight Sonata.” I don’t know if I will get to the third, though I certainly haven’t ruled it out!
Theresa
More power to you, Theresa! It’s something I revisited when I was about 30.
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