Black keys scared me. I grew up in a house with a beautiful Chickering baby grand and with a mother who seemed to produce amazing sounds from it magically, even when she was working on the most difficult sections of Scott Joplin’s treacherous “Maple Leaf Rag.” That mahogany piano was a gift from my grandfather to my grandmother on...
Black keys scared me.
I grew up in a house with a beautiful Chickering baby grand and with a mother who seemed to produce amazing sounds from it magically, even when she was working on the most difficult sections of Scott Joplin’s treacherous “Maple Leaf Rag.”
That mahogany piano was a gift from my grandfather to my grandmother on the birth of their first child, Malcolm, who was born in 1925. Their youngest, my mother, turned out to have both an interest in, and an aptitude for, piano, so as an adult, she moved the petite behemoth into our house in Cleveland. It sat tucked neatly into a corner of the den.
When my mother wasn’t at the piano, I could cheat for my dose of music because the piano had a player called an Ampico, the likes of which I’ve never seen since. We had one roll of a recording of George Gershwin playing “Rhapsody in Blue,” and the entire keyboard would seemingly levitate and shift during certain passages.
Unfortunately, I was never motivated to practice.
In high school, after months and months, I was able to memorize Stephen Sondheim’s “Send in the Clowns,” which became my signature (read that as only) piece. I don’t know how my parents endured my struggle.
In recent years, I’ve tried classical guitar and cello to little avail and tried piano again, but again had difficulty practicing consistently.
I’m still no virtuoso. Believe me, modesty has never been my strong suit.
In the year since I’ve taken up the Simply Music method, in fact almost immediately after beginning lessons, people whose pianos I brazenly plunked out a simple 12-bar blues have started commenting.
They tell me they enjoy hearing me play.
And this is not just from friends. It’s from people who play Chopin, from people I barely know who have nothing to gain. Can you believe my chutzpah at sitting down at strangers’ pianos?
I can’t quite help myself.
My repertoire is quite limited. I’m not playing anything nearly so difficult as “Send in the Clowns,” but something has happened.
Australian Neil Moore developed Simply Music. While Moore was taught the traditional way – to look at a page of printed sheet music and play – he picked up the art by watching his teacher’s hands. He learned to read music only as an adult.
As a piano teacher decades later, he had an 8-year-old student who happened to be blind. So Moore developed a radical method based in part on his own learning style. Moore’s student soon taught his younger sister how to play; she too was blind. At that point, Moore realized he had something special, so he trademarked the method.
Northampton pianist Jeff Olmsted is my teacher.
“I’ve been playing piano for almost 50 years,” he said, “but I never wanted to teach until I discovered this method. I have students of all ages – kids, teens, adults and seniors – all having success with Simply Music.”
Simply Music, which I’ve dubbed “Simply Brilliant,” has several smart facets. It teaches easy pieces incrementally, so students experience success at every lesson. It uses a spiraling curriculum.
That means pieces get variations months after they’ve been introduced. It features a natural performance component because lessons are given in groups. Students are eventually taught to read music as well.
Most importantly for me, the method relies on group support to help keep students on task. I need only ask myself how embarrassed I want to be at lessons to be motivated to play in between.
Last night, with earphones in place, I struck chords on my Yamaha Clavinova electric keyboard to “Tapestry” the title song of Carole King’s blockbuster 1971 album. Unstoppable, I was singing along, I’m sure to my neighbors’ horror.
The piece had several changes in key. At one point, it went into F sharp, which uses all five black keys.
And I was so happy.
Jane Kaufman is editor of The Republican's forthcoming book, "Our Stories: A History of Jewish Immigration in Western Massachusetts." It is one in a series from The Republican on different ethnic groups that debuted in the fall with "The Irish Legacy: A History of the Irish in Western Massachusetts."
Other books due out this fall include "The Struggle for Freedom: A History of African Americans in Western Massachusetts" as well "Nuestra Historia: A History of Latinos in Western Massachusetts," which can be pre-ordered through the newspaper.
"Irish Legacy" is available from The Republican for $42.45 as well as other area venues including the Springfield Museums, The Cottage, The Odyssey Bookshop, Barnes & Noble and the Irish Cultural Center at Elms College. There is a related exhibit, "The Irish Legacy: Immigration and Assimilation in the Connecticut Valley during the Industrial Revolution," at the Lyman and Merrie Wood Museum at the Quadrangle through Aug. 25 that includes educational programming.