The sound filled the air. It almost made me forget my back was tired from sitting so upright in this uncomfortable wooden pew. As I watched, I found myself wondering how in the world someone can make their fingers move so quickly. Not to mention, her feet and fingers are moving at different rates. She completely fit the image of a concert pianist with her long, sequined red dress, red lipstick, and platinum blonde hair. She looked like she belonged in a grand concert hall, instead of on the stage of our small church.
Fast forward six months, while sitting at dinner one evening my mom inquired about my willingness to take piano lessons. She often found me tinkering on our old, $25 garage sale piano, playing show tunes or popular song from the radio. I found it interesting and challenging to see if I could re-create the songs without sheet music. My mom was always impressed with my ability to play music by ear. She only knew she missed a note when her mom yelled, “That’s a B flat, not a B sharp,” from the kitchen. I don’t think my mom was very fond of playing the piano. Nonetheless, she encouraged my love for music, and thought it was time to get some lessons.
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I was excited about learning to play from music, instead of just by ear. A few weeks later, my mom had contacted Ms. Julie and I had my first lesson on Friday afternoon. Looking back, I wonder why I didn’t ask my mom who Ms. Julie was. I just assumed she was a retired music teacher, or one of my mom’s friends from church. When my piano teacher opened the door at my first lesson, my jaw could have hit the floor. Ms. Julie was the concert pianist from church! How was I going to do this? How was I going to play piano in front of the amazing pianist I saw at church? I thought to myself this is going to be
On Tuesday, October 17, 2017, I attended a musical concert. This was the first time I had ever been to a concert and did not play. The concert was not what I expected. I assumed I was going to a symphony that featured a soloist clarinet; however, upon arrival I quickly realized that my previous assumptions were false. My experience was sort of a rollercoaster. One minute I was down and almost asleep; next I was laughing; then I was up and intrigued.
What changed my life the most was probably band. I've been in band for about 3 or 4 years now,and I really enjoy it. Band has helped me out in a lot of ways and will continue helping me until I no longer need help. In band, originally I wanted to be a percussionists like my older brother but they told me I was quite good on trumpet, so naturally I chose trumpet. I still play trumpet along with horn,baritone,etc..
As the story unfolds, Tan suggests that the piano symbolizes different things. For Ni Kan, it is the unwanted pressure her mother inflicts upon. She argues, “Why don’t you like me the way I am? I’m not a genius! I can’t play the piano” (751). However, her mother sees it as a way for her daughter to become the best. Ultimately, the young girl decides to rebel against her mother’s wishes. During her piano lessons with Mr. Chong, her piano teacher, she learns easy ways to get out of practicing. Ni Kan discovers “that Old Chong’s eyes were too slow to keep up with the wrong notes [she] was playing” (751). As a result, Ni Kan performs miserably in a talent show where her parents and friends from the Joy Luck Club attend. Feeling the disapproval and shame from her mother, she decides to stop practicing the piano.
What can appear to gleam and reflect such beauty and craftsmanship yet can be handled by a three year old. It’s sound so pure by a touch of a finger has been in existence for well over a hundred years and is the foundation for creating music. It’s black and white keys produce sounds when played correctly that can bring tears to one’s eyes, touch your heart and soul, bring hope, or even joy and laughter to an event. All of this power… lies in the piano. The piano from its creation to this very second had transformed the world of music no matter what class, talent, and ability.
... mother never talked about the "disaster at the recital or [her] terrible accusations afterward at the piano bench" (Tan 356), she was surprised when her mother "offered to give [her] the piano, for her thirtieth birthday" (Tan 357). She doesn't accept it at first, but later "[Has] the piano reconditioned, for purely sentimental reasons" (Tan 357).
My love for music has kept me afloat through many tribulations throughout my life. When I was younger I was fascinated with the concept of music theory. This love led me to play recorder, piano, and now guitar. I love the freedom that music allows one when composing an original piece. There are so many genres and aspects of music to choose that one can never be bored. With my music, I feel I am able to paint a vivid story of my life. As the notes carry my thoughts and passions, I am able to share my hopes and dreams with anyone who would stop and listen. I hope to improve my skills in the future and work on sharing my love for music with others. There's no better feeling than composing and preforming ones own
After getting kicked out of the school she began playing at piano bars. Her father
Doris Horton Thurston, my seventy-five year old grandmother, has always had a song in her heart and on the edge of her tongue, waiting to flow over in a cascade of expression. She sees music as a connection to the world, a form that lets her reach outside of everyday life to different people, different cultures and different times. From generations before her and for generations to follow, from the memory of her mother's piano playing and her father's voice as a child to the orchestra concerts of her youngest grandchildren, she holds the connection to music close to her heart.
We were the first one out of two choirs to sing. The last choir was just finishing their last song. If I remember right it was a mixture of four 80’s songs which was different from the songs that we normally sing. I really like the song because it was different. It just brought a smile to my face and others.
Ever since I was a small child, I have loved music. The strong, steady beats, the
The Scholar (that lives in my mind): What is that woman saying!? Drop my AP classes so that I'll have more time for piano? Does she realize that piano isn't life? Or at least not my life? I've taken ten years of music, I think that's enough. I'd rather be spending my time becoming a more prolific writer. That's were my passion lies, not in music. Music is just romanticized math. It doesn't say anything deeper than its title. Not anything specific, at least.
“C D E. E D C. C D E F. F E D C,” my eight year old voice sang as I practiced playing the piano with my right hand. My fingers were tense and scared. They squirmed like skinny little snakes, trying to listen to their snake charmer. In this case, the snake charmer was my mind, but just like the snakes, my mind was young and unprepared. The keys seemed wrong and foreign. The glossiness of the keys made my sweaty fingers slip. I winced at the sound of the wrong note. I remember looking up at my piano teacher, who smelled strongly of rotten apples. It was my first piano lesson, and I had butterflies in my stomach. They fluttered around trying to be free, trying to escape. “Okay, stop.” She smiled kindly down at me, but no matter how kind she spoke, I felt like I had failed her. It was my first lesson and I sucked. “I am not going to assign you the first song; I want you to work on moving your fingers. Press your thumbs down on a flat surface and run the rest of the fingers down one at a time.” I did what she asked. I worked hard, I practiced. I sat on the piano bench where my feet didn’t touch the floor and I exercised my fingers. I wanted to be good so I worked hard.
In those days, I never got to see the importance of having those lessons, practicing for hours, and even playing those tunes. As much as I tried, I could never find a way to enjoy it; it was no more than some never-ending horrible homework for me. But today, I thank my teacher for forcing me to appreciate the art of music. Now, I can easily list playing the piano as one of the most refreshing aspects of my life. Whenever I feel down, I always have the chance to be up in clouds after a couple of minutes. Swaying back and forth, I can surrender myself to the soothing tunes and get lost in the harmony. I believe very few people have that kind of luxury and I'm absolutely grateful for that.
After great practice, Josh Clark learned to spell his last name. This may not seem like a grand accomplishment, but for Josh, it is. Josh has down syndrome. He attends weekly music therapy sessions and his parents are seeing great progress. Mother said, “Within a week, he learned how to spell ‘Clark’. Without music therapy, it would have taken several weeks or several months. So how does music help Josh to learn at a faster rate than without music? Josh’s music therapist knew that Josh was accustomed with the song “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” so she used that to help him learn. Josh listened to her sing each letter of his last name to the familiar tune. His mom thinks, “Music therapy helps him to focus. He loves it. He’s always loved music.” It is true that music is a large part of everyone’s lives, whether it is listening to it or playing it. Josh also loves playing the maracas, so his music therapist uses the maracas as a reward for spelling his name. To the average person spelling a name is no big deal, but to Josh’s family and friends, it is much more than that. “He takes a lot longer to learn, but there are a lot more small triumphs,” his mom says (AMTA 2014). This family has seen great results from the music therapy and they are not the only ones. As more people with various therapeutic needs begin to see the benefits of music healing, it has become one of the best forms of treatment.
Nine years ago, when I was in kindergarten, I always looked up to my sister as a role model. If she liked a certain food, I would like it; if she did something, I would want to do it also. So, it only made sense that when she started to play piano, I would want to play too. For months, I was like a mosquito to my dad, asking him when I could start playing piano. Two years later, my wish came true. When my sister went off to college, my dad asked me, “Do you want to start playing piano?”