Lessons Learned

Piano Lessons

I was seven years old when I began taking piano lessons.  Too young to know full well the implication that this was my calling (or at least one of them) and too naive to realize that what I learned applied to life.

That’s nigh on fifty years ago.  I can’t recall the early years; somehow I just knew how to play.

But, I distinctly remember piano lessons on Mrs. Rogers’ front porch every summer.

Once a week from the first week of June until the end of August, she conducted lessons in her home — a welcome break from my calculated walk down the long, tiled hallway leading to the piano room adjacent to the band room.  Trudging was my pace back then, especially when I shirked practice.  The minute my fingers hit the keys, Mrs. Rogers could tell how much time I’d put in the week before.

“There’s no faking it.  You either did it or you didn’t.”

Yet she was patient… forgiving… encouraging.

A note from 1973…

“It seems no time at all since, as a small child, you came to me to learn more about music.  In that short time, how you have grown to become a good musician and a lovely person!  Working with you has been a treasured experience for me, and a pleasure and reward, if perhaps I may have helped you on your way to a high degree of musicianship.  Affectionately, Edith Rogers, April the fourteenth.”

To this day, I can still hear the delicate, hand-painted glass wind chimes tinkling in the screen window of her front porch, prompted into melody by the slightest breeze… feel the frosty glass of freshly-squeezed lemonade in my hand offered before I took my place on the piano bench in her pale yellow, white-trimmed house… taste the paper-thin sugar cookies with a hint of lemon that she graciously extended on a 1950’s-style hostess tray with a fragile paper napkin, along with an update on her latest knitting project consigned by Saks Fifth Avenue.

Her artistry with knitting needles was as exacting as her piano lessons — proficient enough to supply Saks with sweaters knit to their customers’ specifications.

“Take pride in what you do.  Give it your best.  You never know who may be blessed by it.”

She was also a gifted painter.  Laser precise water colors of botanical specimens… tigers… flora & fauna vaguely reminiscent of Georgia O’Keeffe adorned her walls.  Yet, they were rendered softly — with restraint.

“Develop your own style.”

Ironically, her chief concern regarding whether or not I’d become a concert pianist was my inability (or unwillingness) to “narrow down my interests.”  That thought still tickles me, considering her diversity.

I also marveled at how her “reach” outdistanced the confines of the rural area where we resided by many, many miles.  In her younger years, she attended The McPhail School of Music in Minneapolis.  She confided once that she’d been given an assignment to harmonize a familiar melody.  After reviewing it, the instructor chided her for breaking every known rule of harmonization.  Then he stated, “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Rules were meant to be broken, or at least challenged by another perspective.”

Later, she taught at a school for the blind in Boston.  Whenever I’d balk at a difficult passage, she’d get out one of her Braille music books and have me run my fingers over it note by note.

“Never let yourself be limited by vision.  There are different ways of looking at things.  Try again.”

She subsequently married and moved to Minnesota.  Acquired a job as an organist at the Catholic church half a block from her home.  Became widowed, but continued to play hymns every Sunday and religious holiday in the stifling hot balcony with the aid of a rear-view mirror perched on the organ console.  Insisted that I learn how to do the same.

Frankly, during the summer of sixth grade, I was more interested in stealing a kiss from the boy who lived across the street than learning rudimentary pedal techniques.  Yet she insisted I learn.

“Who knows?  One day you may have to support a family.”

I went on to play for hundreds of weddings and funerals.  Became a substitute organist at so many churches I lost count.  And I still managed to steal that kiss… my first.

Excerpts from a letter in 1974…

1)  Transpose #5, P. 9 “Heller 50 Selected Studies” into the following keys – A Major, E flat Major.

2)  Do study #12, P. 20, “Heller Thirty progressive Studies.”  Work for a fine Legato with hand position close to keyboard.  Pay close attention to phrasing, accents, and dynamics as indicated — always with a firm touch, so there will be clear, beautiful tones.

3)  Arpeggio Etude #2, P. 6.  Czerny Selected Studies, Bk 111.  Flexible wrist to allow easy movement of thumb under the fingers.  Divide study into portions as a check for practice and to avoid fatigue.

4)  This is your assignment; please give it the respectful consideration which it deserves.  Any less is unworthy of you.  Never settle for less than your conscientious best… never sell yourself short by a “ho hum” attitude or performance.  Whatever profession you eventually follow, do today’s work today.  For the rest of your assignment, do some piece of music of your own choosing and do an accurate job — again — your best!

Piano Lessons II

.  .  .

Mrs. Rogers passed away when I was a junior in high school.

It’s taken me until now to appreciate the blessing that she was and the magnitude of what she taught me.

She was not only my teacher, she was my mentor.

My friend.

How grateful I am.

Enjoying lessons learned,

~ Kimby

11 thoughts on “Lessons Learned

  1. Beautiful post Kim! Often times you don’t really see the whole picture until later and it’s great that you treasure all these memories and appreciate them. My kids started piano lesson since last year (They are now 7 and 5) and they sometimes struggle with practice but I (who is also learning with them at home for the first time) hope they will enjoy music in life. Enjoyed reading your post!

  2. Dear Kimby,

    This is a beautiful post and Mrs. Rogers seem to understand the finer points about imparting knowledge that can be applied throughout a lifetime. It wasn’t until I came to Sydney for high school that I had good music teachers who taught me more about appreciation and technique. “Develop your own style” is so important because that sets our interpretations apart from everyone else. Knowing the tradition but learning to “speak our own language” on the piano is probably one of the most beautiful gifts we can share with our listeners.

    You have learnt well.

  3. What an extraordinary woman Mrs. Rogers was! I just loved reading your memories and I love that you kept her letters so you can treasure them and also share them with us. :) Think maybe some day you will share a video of you playing with us? I’d love that!

  4. Kimmmeee…I have tears in my eyes now as I read this most poignant post…I could smell the air, taste the lemon cookies and hear the wind chimes softly tingle as I kept scrolling down the page…her advice to you was priceless…what a sage woman…I especially like ‘develop your own style’…those words are packed w/more than just in your musical talents…Mrs. Rogers was giving you, as I felt her presence, the answer to what so many of us search for in life…out own sense of who we are, why we’re here and what journey lies ahead of us…I’m captivated by your words, my dear loving friend…thank you for sharing you memories… xox ally

    PS…I, too, took piano lessons from Mrs. Myers…half blind, she would sit net to me on the bench as I begrudgingly pecked out the ‘song’ (having not looked at it since the previous week’s lesson), her littl’ stick tapping the rhythm and the meterodome (?) ticking…I obviously had no talent for the piano, but I’m thinking maybe some elbow grease and practice would have surely helped…what a sacrifice Mom made for this $1.50/week investment in me…only ‘if’…now I revel in YOUR talents!! xo

  5. Lovely use of words. Mrs. Heinen was my Mrs. Rogers. She was my first grade teacher and encouraged me to play the piano at a Fine Arts contest. I’ve played piano from that day to this; not with your expertise, but certainly with enjoyment and satisfaction. Playing piano enables me to express my feelings and has been my therapist during some very low times in my life. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

  6. Very insightful piece of work, as always. My mom used to take piano lessons from a German teacher; unlike me……. who was too lazy to learn. She also sent me for organ classes when piano didn’t take off. It didn’t last long either. In the end, the only instrument I can play is guitar. Why? Because I’d to pay for my own fees this time. Another lesson well learnt.

  7. Love the layers in this piece: the memories, the lessons, the woman, your teacher and how she lives on through you. I especially loved this line: “Rules were meant to be broken, or at least challenged by another perspective.” Thank you, Kim.

Your thoughts are valued. What's on your mind?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.