Notes from the piano

I have been playing the piano since the early age of first grade and I'm now 30-something and teaching private lessons. I probably had more, but I only remember three of my teachers. The mean one that would take it upon herself to curl my fingers in that perfect piano playing shape; the one that was nice, but I don't remember her teaching me anything (although I did get to play on her pickle ball court while my brother was in lessons), and my last one; Mrs. Overby. My all-time piano guru and favorite teacher.

Often when I'm teaching my lessons I think about her. What made her so special? What would she be telling this student to do with this piece? She was a quiet lady, a woman of few words, not a drama queen or a meanie, or a slacker. She was just herself. She had this way of saying "Ahhh" when I did something especially grand. And when I didn't, she would just tell me what to do to get it right. No change in voice, no lecture, just simple words that made sense.

She also had this way of demonstrating how the music needed to sound. She was very expressive with her body; her arms would rise and fall very deliberately, her fingers were thin but full of muscle, and she would lean into and away from the keyboard as she played. She also taught me the essence of music in that it needs to tell a story. Many times I would think of a playful puppy, or a dancing princess, or fighting lions while I played. All to make the music more alive to tell a story.

She catered to my musical quest and the ultimate was attaining a music scholarship to a private university that was a perfect fit. All my years of playing and being shaped by her teaching came to a conclusion on the day I auditioned and won. It was so exciting.

But the most meaningful to my heart was the day she played for my wedding. Mrs. Overby was a true teacher and I hope to be half as good to my students.