Piano Keynotes
Yesterday a long, somewhat heavy box arrived from Amazon, containing an 88 weighted-key piano keyboard! I come from a multi-generational musical family, and the piano has been a common thread throughout the family and my life. So today’s blog is a series of vignettes of times and places and people this thread has woven in my life.
Prologue
Back in the early 1900s, my paternal grandmother, Jessie Beatrice Butler Clark, was a student at Brenau College in Georgia. Her family was wealthy enough to afford to send her to college, and there she made a name for herself as a music major. She played both the violin and the piano, and was apparently being groomed to be a concert pianist.
Much to her parents’ apparent dismay, she fell in love with a poor Georgia farm boy, got married, and had seven children. That concert career pretty much went out the window! She gave her family the gift of a love of music though, and four of the six brothers were known throughout the county for their quartet harmonies. My dad was not one of the four—he loved music but was convinced he lacked the talent of his older brothers.
Beginnings
Growing up, we had a piano in the house as far back as I can remember. An older upright would be replaced with a Steinway with money from Granny Clark’s estate. It was a beautiful instrument, and the last model to have all wooden keys. It had a place of honor in the living room in our home.
My sister, Merrilyn, took piano lessons from Mr. Lowe. And when I was in first grade I started lessons as well. Mr. Lowe was tall, dark, and handsome—at least to a six year old. I had a serious crush on him. And, more importantly, he was patient and more than willing to put up with my silliness and inability to sit still for long. My mom liked to tell the tale of watching me practice, playing the piece at one tempo, swinging my feet to a second tempo, and bouncing up and down at a third tempo.
I remember my first recital—or at least my mom’s telling of it. I had to play “Suwanee River” in front of an audience of family members of all of us performing. Mom said she had no idea when I practiced, and had no idea whether I was really ready to perform my piece for the world. According to her, when my turn came, I giggled my way up onto stage, sat down at the piano, played my piece perfectly, and then giggled all the way back to my seat.
Changes
I took lessons from Mr. Lowe for a couple of years, and then we moved to Connecticut. Merrilyn’s new piano teacher was an older woman—very stern, demanding, and not so patient. I wisely opted to not attempt what would have been super-stressful lessons with her. I just figured I’d wait till the next year when I could join the band and learn the flute. At least with the flute, I could march around and not be stuck in one place! (That excitement for marching lasted until my first parade in junior high when the band marched behind horses….)
The summer before fifth grade, Merrilyn and I taught ourselves to play guitar. Knowledge of the piano gives a visual feel for how music works, and that helped us learn. It just took perseverance—and time to build up callouses on our fingers to handle the metal strings.
I took flute lessons through twelfth grade, and enjoyed playing the guitar as well. In college, I didn’t try to join the band there and instead just kept up the guitar. The piano, for the time being, was dormant.
Every so often I’d have an opportunity to tickle the ivories on a piano, but nothing seriously. Merrilyn kept it up, though, and to this day is a good pianist. She has the Steinway in her home and puts it to good use.
Accompanying
I pretty much abandoned the flute after high school, but years later when my kids were old enough to join the band, I got my old flute out and started playing again. I finally bought my first “step-up” flute to replace the one I’d had since fourth grade. I’d play trumpet/flute duets with my daughter, Merrilee, and when I’d visit my folks, Merrilyn and I would play piano/flute duets. My folks loved to hear us play, even though we were essentially sight-reading through books of mostly classical pieces. A friend who came to visit and heard us play was impressed, though she did note that we sounded much better when we were both playing the same song….
Meanwhile, somewhere along the line, my folks got me a 66-key keyboard and I got some simple books and refamiliarized myself with the piano. Just learning to read the bass clef (left hand notes) took some time after all those years of playing high notes on the flute. My piano moods would come and go, and eventually I gave Merrilee the keyboard to take to college with her.
Pandemic Boredom
Fast forward to 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic. I retired mid-year and found myself wanting something to do. I got out my 12-string a few times but it didn’t take long to miss those callouses on my fingers. And the flute wasn’t quite satisfying me either, and so the keyboard.
I’m looking forward to just relearning what I used to know and playing around with it. No need to reserve Carnegie Hall now—or anytime in the future!
Coming Full Circle
The first piece I played on the new keyboard? “Suwanee River”—I still remember that song! I did it without the giggles this time, though.
“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.” – Plato
For more musing on music, see my previous blog, “Living in Harmony–The Universal Truths of Music.”
Back to Home Page