Lily’s First Session
Lily, a seven year-old casualty of one unhappy year of piano lessons, arrives at Music House for the first time. “Musical things are everywhere in this room,” I tell her. “Just look around and check out what’s here. Feel free to try any of the instruments you see. You may take things off the shelf and bring them to wherever you want. Try lots of different instruments, or if something seems really interesting, just choose that. I need to do a few things, so imagine that you wandered into this music place and you’re here all by yourself.” She raises an eyebrow. “If you need me, feel free to interrupt. It’s okay.” Read more…
Sam, the Renaissance Man (age 7)
Sam dims the lights. He takes an assortment of percussion instruments off the shelf – a tambourine, claves, maracas, finger cymbals and a triangle and meticulously lays them out. He is purposeful – something is cooking. He puts on a CD, “Selections from the Nutcracker,” stands on a little box in front of the long mirror and, as the music fills the room, he conducts each segment, swaying, cueing his invisible orchestra, rapture on his face. Occasionally he will lunge for a triangle or tambourine and hit it at just the right moment, then fly back to the “podium” where he is needed by the New York Philharmonic. For the waltzes, he grabs “Jazzbird,” the marionette, or me for a dancing partner. He seems possessed. Read more…
Lucy: Bread Dough (age 8)
I know what song Lucy wants to work on today because I hear her singing it as she comes up the steps. Walking right past me as though I’m invisible, she makes a beeline for the piano. Lucy always knows what she wants to do. She thrives on the freedom to choose. When we began together two years ago, I wasn’t sure that she knew what she was doing, and she was likewise unsure that I knew what I was doing. She spent awhile testing her freedom. Now we’ve become comfortable – we trust each other. Read more…
Danny plays Twinkle
Andy: Windows of Readiness (age 8)
Andy comes bounding up the stairs waving his stuffed giraffe at me yelling, “What’s this? What’s this?” My blank stare is exasperating, so he tries again, louder. “What’s this?” He shoves the giraffe into my face. A tiny tinkling lullaby comes from within the incongruously menacing giraffe.
“What instrument is it?” he bellows. I listen.
“Oh, that’s a celesta. It’s the same instrument Tchaikovsky used in ‘Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies’.”
“Oh. Yeah…” he replies in a normal tone. His face relaxes into a smile. [Read more]
“Significant Things Happen Near Chaos”
