Sit Down and Stop

I teach adult students. When an adult comes into the studio for the first time, I always hear one of four statements.

1. I always wanted to take lessons
2. I wish I hadn’t quit lessons.
3. I just want to sit down and play the piano.

To the first statement.

Cool. Sit down.

To the second statement.

Sorry. Sit down.

The third statement is a bit more interesting.

Sitting down and playing the piano is not all that hard. Students can usually tackle “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “Hot Cross Buns” in the first lesson.

Sitting down and playing that dream piece that you always wanted to play might be more of a challenge. Luckily, people are amazing and resilient.

• I have students willing to play easier arrangements of pieces.
• I have students that are willing to put up with my scaffolding easier pieces to build up to their dream piece.
• I have students that have worked for YEARS to perfect a piece.

That’s when I hear the fourth statement

4. “….. It’s too fast/slow/soft/loud/smooth/short/choppy/pedal-y. I held that too long and I didn’t use the finger that I wanted there and my left hand was too loud in that section and I needed more melody in this section and that transition was not smooth and and and and and…..”

stop.

Stop!

To the Fourth statement.

Remember when you wanted everything that you currently have?

You are literally doing the thing. You’re playing the piece. You always wanted to take lessons and now you are. You always wanted to just sit down and play and here you are — sitting down and playing.

Maybe you played it better at home. Maybe you have a list of sections and phrases that you wish to refine. Maybe you have a note to fix or a rest to observe or a pedal to adjust. Thank heavens, you lucky thing! You have invested in a skill that can take a lifetime to refine. You can play daily for the rest of your life and still have more to play and learn and refine. You chose to invest your time in something larger than yourself and here you are — doing it!

The world’s foremost cellist, Pablo Casals, is 83. He was asked one day why he continued to practice four and five hours a day. Casals answered, “Because I think I am making progress.”
— Leonard Lyons

I have a Brahms piece that I adore and frequently play in public. There’s always some oopsy-daisy that happens — A cracked octave. A poorly voiced melody. A messy pedal. A botched arpeggio. The mistake is likely only noticeable to me but it’s bothersome. Last year I finally played it exactly the way that I had always wanted to play it. It was the run of a life time and I was doing it! And where was this run? In front of family? Friends? Paid audiences? Nope. It was a wedding of someone I didn’t know. I was hired to play a wedding, and I chose this piece to warm up and feel out the piano. It was the best I had ever played the piece and it was also the least important part about that day for the majority of people in the room.

My point is we cannot let our pursuit of perfection get in the way of the very good and real music we make daily. Sitting down and playing is, itself, the reward. Any time you do it, you’re doing it! Don’t stop playing. Don’t stop dreaming. Don’t stop working toward it.