Little m Long a

We are winding down on another year of piano lessons.  The big project for this month was the Guild Auditions where Zoë had to play before a judge eight selections from memory, transpose one of the pieces, play the scales and cadences associated with each of her memorized pieces and recognize by ear some major and minor chords as well as a few intervals.

Completely nerve wracking does not begin to capture how strung out I have been over this.  Getting Zoë to practice this year has been drudgery.  It’s like bathing cats.  She’s got too many other things she’d rather do.  Focusing on piano lessons unfortunately is not on her list.

I honestly felt she had not practiced well enough for the audition.  I was torn, though, between holding her to the piano and thereby making her loathe it or giving her some leeway and keeping the whole experience enjoyable.  Letting her practice in her own way on her own terms.  We tried to strike a balance.

I thought as the time drew nearer for the audition she would get nervous or buckle down and, now don’t get me wrong, she did practice more, but there was still very little sense of urgency or intensity.  When I picked her up from school today I told her that she had just two hours before the audition.

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath.  She paused.  I was prepared for the encouraging speech.  You know, let her know everything would be fine that she was ready and would do a great job.  She looked at me, eyes still wide and said, “Do you think I should wear a pretty dress?”

It’s not that she doesn’t care.  She just doesn’t get worried or upset about it.  She’s too busy having fun.  I wish I could be as laid back.

She actually did a fantastic job.  She had one little mistake on Fur Elise–she just skipped three lines.  No pause or stutter.  Just left them out.  The judge made the comment that it was an interesting interpretation of the piece but that she should take another look at the music.

I couldn’t help but laugh because she learned the entire piece by ear and memory.  She never once looked at the music.  Wouldn’t know what she was looking at if she did.

As we left I turned to Zoë and said, “Boy, am I glad that’s over!”

“Why?”

“I’m just glad it’s over.  It’s so much hard work and pressure.”

“Yeah……but not for you!” she replied and then skipped off to the van.

Maybe she takes it more seriously than I give her credit for.  But I’ll be damned if it shows.

 She looked up and forced a smile, half of a smile, really for what she would have preferred were tears.  I saw it in her eyes, in her face, in her body.  Did you hear it, her eyes were asking.  Do you think Mrs.  Bender noticed?  What about the the rest of them.  Do you think they heard it?  She was being brave, consummate, strong.  I smiled, proud and winked at her.  You did good.  I didn’t bring it up, never even hinted.

We’ve signed a contract, Zoë and I.  Ninety minutes a week.  It’s usually more but never less.  We gave our word and must honor that.  It’s not easy what with the numerous directions we are pulled on any given day.  But you would think just 15 minutes a day would be a cinch.  I’m hear to tell you–it’s not.  Miss one day and you quickly find out just how difficult a task it is.  We didn’t have time for 15 minutes today and you think we’ll have time for 30 tomorrow?  Miss two days and your time management skills become the stuff of legend. Yet, at the close of each week we are able to say with all honesty we’ve given our 90 minutes.   We have kept our word.   We practiced piano like we said we would.

For the second year now, we have opened our home serving as a guest host in the Family Recital Piano Series, one of three such scheduled events to take place during the year.  Mrs. Bender, Zoë’s piano instructor created the series as a way of getting the families of her students together away from the structured, formal studio atmosphere and allowing the students to showcase their hard work.  It’s a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon in a casual setting meeting wonderful families and listening to some fantastic kids showcase some extraordinary talents. 

Zoë had worked extra hard to prepare her pieces for the recital and could not have been more excited.  Add to the mix that she got to wear a new dress and the enthusiasm was scarcely containable.  She was ready.  And she played beautifully.  But it did happen.  During one of her songs there was an extra note, a fumbled finger, an extra pause.  She didn’t stop, never quit smiling and took her bow and applause with the grace of a seasoned performer.  But she knew she had made the mistake and it was eating away at her on the inside.  I made no mention of it, never even hinted.

The rest of the day was without incident.  Laughter, food, games and good conversation filled the house.  Zoë even won one of the games and as a reward received a huge Hershey’s bar.  Without prompting she immediately divided the whole thing and gave a piece to all in attendance.  After everyone had left, the kids and I relaxed for the remainder of the evening enjoying leftover treats and punch.  Before heading off to bed, everyone chipped in and helped me clean up.  Truly, a banner day.  As I tucked the kids into bed and said my good nights I told them all that they were very good today and thanked them for all of their help during the recital.  Zoë at long last opened up saying, “Yeah, but I messed up a little bit on my song.”

“Zoë, you made me proud today.  I think you did a fantastic job and you played beautifully.  I loved it!” 

I could see immediately that the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.  She had been set free, realizing in that instant that it’s OK to not be perfect.  That sometimes it’s alright to make a mistake.  That Daddy will still love you.  She is an amazing little girl and I am honored, privileged to say that she is my daughter.  And a pretty darn good pianist.