It's that time of year... Across the country, in small school auditoriums, community centres and family homes, palms are sweating over the dreaded piano recital. It's a traumatic, humiliating time for those of us who are musically challenged.
All those black dots on black lines. When I played them, it sounded like this: I am glad. I am glad. I can play, and I am glad. What's the Italian word for expressionless monotone? I Am Glad was the very first piece of music I was taught to play, using notes to the right of Middle C. The following week, I learned (wait for it...) I Am Sad, played with notes to the left of Middle C. Sad doesn't begin to describe it!
As the years went by, the sheet music became more tangled with black dots, and squiggles. Yet, the music, was embarrassingly dull. I had Soul in my heart! Even as a little girl, I would listen to Nat King Cole on the radio, and a few years later, dance in the living room to the latest music out of Motown. I detested piano practice, and to this day, have an aversion to metronomes.
All those black dots on black lines. When I played them, it sounded like this: I am glad. I am glad. I can play, and I am glad. What's the Italian word for expressionless monotone? I Am Glad was the very first piece of music I was taught to play, using notes to the right of Middle C. The following week, I learned (wait for it...) I Am Sad, played with notes to the left of Middle C. Sad doesn't begin to describe it!
As the years went by, the sheet music became more tangled with black dots, and squiggles. Yet, the music, was embarrassingly dull. I had Soul in my heart! Even as a little girl, I would listen to Nat King Cole on the radio, and a few years later, dance in the living room to the latest music out of Motown. I detested piano practice, and to this day, have an aversion to metronomes.
Something happened during what was probably my last stomach churning piano recital. I don't remember the unremarkable piece which I was to play. I only remember standing alone in front of the piano, that hot Spring evening, wearing the white dress which my Mum had hand sewn for me (with matching white knee socks, because I wasn't old enough to wear panti-hose). I knew I was blushing a deep red, because I could feel the heat blazing across my cheeks.
I took a deep breath, and in my most sombre voice, announced the name of the piece, and the composer. Everything else is a blur. There was muffled, polite applause...not unlike these clapping Hydrangea petals...
As we were leaving, my best friend's Mom told me that, when I announced the name of the piano piece, a woman seated nearby said, "that girl has a lovely voice".
So, I became a broadcaster! Some of my happiest memories are of the days spent at Vancouver's CKWX and CJAZ. The AM station upstairs played country music, and the FM station downstairs played jazz. I wrote and read newscasts for both, running up and down stairs between the two very different demographics. Never a music DJ, I had the good sense to stay on the News side of the glass divide. There's a saying in radio news, that "you're only as good as your last newscast", which is just another way of saying, that every newscast is your own version of the piano recital.
I took a deep breath, and in my most sombre voice, announced the name of the piece, and the composer. Everything else is a blur. There was muffled, polite applause...not unlike these clapping Hydrangea petals...
As we were leaving, my best friend's Mom told me that, when I announced the name of the piano piece, a woman seated nearby said, "that girl has a lovely voice".
So, I became a broadcaster! Some of my happiest memories are of the days spent at Vancouver's CKWX and CJAZ. The AM station upstairs played country music, and the FM station downstairs played jazz. I wrote and read newscasts for both, running up and down stairs between the two very different demographics. Never a music DJ, I had the good sense to stay on the News side of the glass divide. There's a saying in radio news, that "you're only as good as your last newscast", which is just another way of saying, that every newscast is your own version of the piano recital.
Wish I knew who to give credit to, for the Cause and Effect cartoon, which makes me laugh every time I see it.
The stunning white Hydrangea blossom is from Florigens Design, here in Toronto.
Photographs copyright of: Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.
My Hydrangeas are blue but these white ones are gorgeous! I love learning about your experiences as a youth.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Monique. Hydrangeas are one of my favourite flowers. The vase in the photographs was a hand-me-down gift from a friend who was moving. It always reminds me of musical notes.
ReplyDelete