Les, our piano tuner, is paying us a visit today. Given that I've had to dust the keyboard this morning you may get an idea of the frequency with which the piano is played just now, and it is not high. But having said that, I did sit down and had a go at mangling a perfectly decent piece of
a composer I used to know quite well.
Like many a child, I was sent to piano lessons from the age of seven or so. Every Saturday morning I was dropped off at Miss C.'s house and taken down a dark passageway to a brown-painted room at the back, lit by a single (feeble) bare bulb. Here I hammered out scales and exercises on an uninspiring upright while Miss C went elsewhere, though always within earshot, and if I played a wrong note it would be met by a piercing shriek of "E flat!!", or the like.
This was one of my early books, full of jolly little tunes on a farming theme such as "The Lost Lamb" and "Going to the Hayfield". I graduated to easy classics, sat an exam and took part in nervewracking competitions, but despite occasionally being allowed into Miss C's sunny drawing room to play her grand piano, my heart wasn't in it, and when we moved house - too far to attend lessons - I quit for good.
I did, however, promise my mother that I would keep playing, and I kept my part of the bargain so she wasn't obliged to find me another teacher. Fed up with the 'baby pieces', I moved on to meatier stuff, somehow deciphering the code and managing to grasp what I really wanted to master.
I can't claim any particular competence at all (and certainly not nowadays when I am so rusty), but a love of music can get you a long way and when I do play and it sounds half decent, it gives me enormous pleasure. Those forced to overhear may not have quite the same experience.
As to the children, both girls had piano lessons and have given up, though Will, who opted for brass rather than the keyboard, is still playing the horn, and is the natural musician of the three.
Perhaps I should make a concerted effort to recover whatever degree of fluency I used to have, so that when Les makes his six-monthly visits they won't be in vain. But even then I doubt I'd ever be able to tackle the Prokofiev Sonata I heard on the car radio the other day - the performance was so stunning I almost took my hands off the wheel to clap.
About a year and a half ago, my middle child needed a brief break from her piano lessons, and rather than give up our slot in the teacher's schedule, I filled in for the rest of the semester. That was the first time I'd studied since giving up when I was about 15 -- and unlike back then, I didn't complain at all about having to practice. The Miss C's of the world are far less likely to shriek at a fellow grown-up....
Posted by: Kelly | 07 March 2007 at 02:01 PM
We have a digital piano. My daughter's the musical virtuoso in the family. Well, that is, when she actually takes the time to be. She's so naturally gifted but has stopped taking lessons. She's even composed her own music, really impressive stuff, but she's a TEENAGER. Let's hope it's a phase...
Posted by: Bluestalking Reader | 07 March 2007 at 04:24 PM
Outstanding photographs. Really, really beautiful, Karen.
Posted by: Nan | 07 March 2007 at 05:11 PM
I played, too, as a child, but stopped over 10 years ago. I would love to pick it up again one day, though. I used to be able to play the Moonlight Sonata from memory, now I can barely decipher the sheet music! :0)
Posted by: Charity | 07 March 2007 at 05:19 PM
It's never too late to have lessons again, Karen! My son Tom is always nagging me to take up the paino he said it would be good for my grey-matter! He plays of course but my daughter Lucy never really took to the paino. Coincidentally she is a French horn player too - isn't it a lovely instrument.
I love your piano - did you know John Broadwood was born and grew up in Oldhamstocks (about 40 miles south of Edinburgh - just off the AI). One of his very early 'box' piano's is on display in the drawing room at Paxton House. I am hoping that one day we shall have a concert of Hydn by candlelight - I am working on it with the powers that be.
Posted by: Pillowbookblogger | 07 March 2007 at 05:19 PM
Your photography is superb...love the ones from yesterday's blog too....very original.
Posted by: A Wildlife Gardener | 07 March 2007 at 06:17 PM
This sounds so like me! We even have an old Broadwood upright. I'm no good but like you still get pleasure out of playing. I can manage the first movement of the Moonlight Sonata, a la Lucia. 'Divino Mozartino' is too 'diffy', though.
Posted by: Barbara | 07 March 2007 at 07:48 PM
This cat remembers well how good you were, and has very fond memories of a piece by Poulenc. I started lessons again (and it is tough work) but I think it was a good decision.
Hope we can play again together while I can still move my fingers!
Howlin' Mog
Posted by: Peter the flautist | 07 March 2007 at 08:41 PM
How I'd love to have learnt Karen,if I had eight days in the week I'd give it a go even at this late stage!
Posted by: dovegreyreader | 07 March 2007 at 09:40 PM
I, too, took piano lessons. I never did like it, but I do love music! Guess the lessons were not a complete loss! I gave my piano to my DD and someday she says she will take lessons - she never wanted to when she was younger!
Posted by: Peg | 07 March 2007 at 10:35 PM
I just stumbled across this via The Purl Bee. I've loved your photos of the beauty in daily life, but I just had to comment when I saw the Walter Carroll book. I too played 'The Lost Lamb', and I almost remember the tune of 'Going to the Hayfield'. I stopped having lessons when I was 10 but started playing again for fun a few years later. I'm not good, and my mother certainly winces at my renditions sometimes, but I'm still glad I learned.
Posted by: Ros | 26 March 2007 at 04:11 AM