Monday, February 04, 2013

Daisy and the Piano



Last spring Daisy started taking piano lessons--and it was a disaster. The teacher was a terrible choice for her (though she had come highly recommended and was, in fact, the only one I could find)--she loved to scribble all over Daisy's music, kept large smelly dogs, and was prone to asking questions that Daisy found distressing, since they had no answers. 

For a few months she studied at home with Clara, and then those good times ended when Clara left for college. After much calling around, I found a new teacher for both Daisy and Bella this fall, and while Daisy had her doubts about taking lessons from a Strange Man, it's been a wonderful fit.

Still, she really did not like to play. All week her practice time included a lot of discussion on her part as to why she shouldn't--quite yet--try to play hands together. Progress was slow indeed.

However, this story has a happy ending. At Christmas her teacher gave her some Christmas hymns to play, and at that moment she took off for the horizon in a cloud of dust. There is nothing she won't tackle now. She's racing through her book, and never asks for help. I think it was the experience of playing music *that she could check with her ear, because she knew what it was supposed to sound like*, that gave her confidence. I'm excited to see where she goes with piano.

Meanwhile, these little bluebirds in the photo are sitting on a table runner that, of course, is in my shop. And there's a vintage crafting book, *and* I've discounted the one remaining quilt. Happy Monday night!


9 comments:

Farrah said...

I'm glad that Miss Daisy is excelling in piano. I took lessons when I was her age, but have since forgotten most. My youngest son can play by ear, yet struggles to read music. Best of luck to her and her musical endeavors!

Shelley said...

Well done, Daisy, for sticking it out. I didn't keep on with my piano lessons and I'm sorry that I didn't. I remember reading a fictional book in which a character was a concert pianist. The author is known for his research, so I tend to trust his description of the pianist 'picking out the bones' of a piece. In reading about Daisy, I'm guessing that means playing the notes long enough to feel familiar with the tune and how it should sound.

Melissa said...

Glad to hear she is making progress, I was thinking about her and her piano lessons a while back.

Erin said...

Daisy would be great friends with our Ruby. They sound like they are cut from the same cloth. :)

Mary @ Neat and Tidy said...

I think it's wonderful that your children are musicians. It's an art they will always have, and music never goes out of style.

You are doing a great job raising these young people.

Polly said...

This is great! And it makes perfect sense, of course, that you'd want to be able to 'know' the music that you are playing. I love it when things click like that.

Lilian said...

I love it when the dreaded practice of the instrument becomes a joy rather than a chore... and the reminding from me becomes less and less frequent. Excellent news for Daisy and yourself!

Hope Anne said...

So happy to hear about Daisy's success! I have 3 piano students at my house currently, and one violinist. Two of our children take their lessons via Skype after their dearly beloved teacher moved out of the area! How is that for incorporating technology into a old and time-honored art?! ;-) We love it--and it means I don't have to drag out yet another day during the cold, snowy seasons upon us.

Cheryl said...

I love this post...maybe because it echos my thoughts on learning to play. I dare to have a philosophy on piano playing, even though I did not learn to play the piano myself. (We did not have a piano in our home.)

Anyway, I compare learning to play with learning to read. If one is only taught the alphabet, yet is never read a beautiful poem or inspiring story, those letters are quite meaningless. But if one uses those letters as pathways to the wonderful printed word...ah, what a difference! In the same way, mere notes on the staff are not meaningful, not inspiring, unless they are the means to something beautiful and soul-stirring! (Most of the diddies in the lesson book are neither.) When my own daughter was given a simple arrangement of "Ode to Joy," her piano skills took off!

Related Posts with Thumbnails