A year later and a different teacher

It was just a year ago that I quit taking piano after only 4 lessons with a new teacher. I had played the same piece, or rather one page of it, badly for 4 weeks straight.

I could tell from the first lesson that our chemistry just wasn’t right. She was fastidious, impeccably dressed, and perfectly coifed and manicured. That would have been fine, but she also made me extremely nervous.

She spent a lot of time focusing on my shoulders, how I was holding my hands, how far away from the piano I was sitting, even my glasses -- to the point where I could barely play 3 notes in a row correctly.

I lamely told her the commute was just too great for me. Granted it was 30 minutes in non-rush hour. But ironically my current teacher’s house is just 2 blocks away in the same neighborhood.

This year I have had an entirely different experience. And my lesson today convinced me just how different it has been. I played the same piece -- the Rondo from Beethoven’s Pathetique sonata -- all the way through with very few mistakes after just one week of practice. My teacher was humming along and by the end was singing my praise. Even I was surprised and impressed, given my previous experience.

So what made the difference? Was it the fact that I had just come from water yoga and was totally mellow? More likely it was the fact that Anadel and I simply click. She is supportive and encouraging and full of little tricks to make difficult passages easier and to make any piece sound better. I once asked her how she knew so much about the nuances of the music, to which she replied, “I just make it up.”

There is never a clock ticking when I take a lesson these days. I simply play until I am surprised to hear the next student ring the doorbell. And then I go home determined to try to remember all the things she said as I practice the next week.

What a difference a year can make.