Piano

I just had my first proper piano lesson. Although I knew it would be an odd experience, I hadn’t quite prepared myself for the mental and emotional challenge. Having spent a year learning from an app, suddenly I was exposing myself to the judgement of a human. Fortunately, I’d chosen an excellent human. Steve is a calm, kind, and encouraging teacher. Above all, he’s someone who clearly loves teaching. With students ranging from 5 to 76, there’s not much he hasn’t seen, either. He certainly didn’t balk at the prospect of a nervous almost-51-year-old. Indeed, the dinosaur analogies he uses with the youngsters were remarkably effective for me. ...

I’d always promised myself I would learn to play the piano before the age of 50. I managed it by a gnat’s crotchet, starting just a couple of months ahead of my big birthday. Although I tried to learn in my late twenties, I gave up in disgust upon discovering the existence of the bass clef. Of course, I’d realised hand coordination was involved … but that note is a G for my right hand, but a C for my left? And I have to read two staves simultaneously? I don’t need this nonsense. I’ll just read a book instead. ...