Piano

My fingers miss the worn ivories where memory tingles 

 

with a lilt, a swell or scattered tinkle on the keyboard.

A sweet memory replayed 

when piano music ripples 

from the turntable. My fingers play silently & I smile.

“The piano is a mirror to the soul; 

it expresses what you are feeling at the moment”

~ Alicia Keys, singer, songwriter, pianist

'Feel Your Music'

Like cool rain drops, 

piano music

refreshes my soul.

“The important thing is to feel your music, 

really feel it and believe it.”

~ Ray Charles

The History of Juggling

Don't know the words that followed

Juggling all the news of each day ~

acts worthy of the Ed Sullivan show 

from far away years. Plates spinning 

while the latest performer jack rabbited 

back and forth to avoid an untimely crash 

to the stage floor, and then 

Liberace, in a jewel encrusted cape 

at a grand piano 

candelabra on it's edge, 

joked and entertained us;

new songsters, like young Patsy Cline,

presented themselves to the world. 

A world gone by in a blink 

but never far from my memory.

Today's variety shows are sensational!

"Call in to vote for your favourite"

Not a feature for The Ed Sullivan Show

 ~ TV ratings his only metric. 

So here we are - juggling all the news of the day.
Sensational, lots of variety, bluster and showmanship

“The world cannot be governed without juggling.”

~ John Selden

(1584 ~ 1654

Playing by Ear

It was an invitation to a birthday party one summer many years ago. 

The prairie sky was deep blue with not a cloud in sight. 

Mrs. Thompson ~ 

I think that was her name ~ lived on a farm between city and town. One year when I 

was about 13, she gave me 

piano lessons in her home. 

I loved playing piano, 

but not practicing. My teacher, 

80 years young, greeted me with sparkling eyes, 

a beautiful smile and a warm handshake. 

‘I never knew if you practiced!’ 

Her eyes twinkled a bit brighter 

‘You played so well by ear!’

“To play a wrong note is insignificant; 

to play without passion is inexcusable.”

~ Ludwig van Beethoven

Touching

gentle piano music touches me 

flows through my fingers 

to play along with the invisible melody

to sway in time with the rhythm

 “The important thing is to feel your music, really feel it and believe it.”

~ Ray Charles

When Words Fail Me

When words fail me ~

tangled in my mind,

music flows and charms

piano keys and finger tips

trace rhythm through me

in chords and bounding runs

without a piano my finger tips

still shadow the ghost of waltz

when words fail me ~

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

~ Hans Christian Andersen

Hidden - Chapter 5

Hidden - Chapter 5

Ethan was sure that he could convince Evan to at least look at the two young women. Worried that they would turn out to be floozies, Evan was always hesitant. ‘They only look nice, Ethan!’ Ethan, on the other hand, never worried about such details. Not until he had at least met a girl who ‘looked nice’.  He just wanted Evan to get out for something other than their own outings. Maybe if they went out on a double date? Evan might just loosen up a bit ~ if only he wouldn't start going on about the best pianos or his favourite piano artists. He and Evan had gone to venues when, occasionally, headliners were in town. Mostly, it was regional artists that played in cramped jazz clubs for avid audiences. Watching the two very lovely young women, still very girlish, Ethan decided that the possibilities seemed endless.

“I feel like there’s a world of possibilities out there.”

~ Liza Minnelli

Hidden - Chapter 2

Hidden - Chapter 2

Evan also knew that he had to get out more. The guys he sometimes hung out with were always on him to do more than just play the piano. When he first met them, they all thought it was cool that he played piano in a fancy hotel restaurant. ‘Must be a great place to pick up chicks!’ Evan got quiet and nodded nonchalantly. He did have to dress in suit and tie. He tried to keep his hair out of his eyes. When he got into the music, spicing up the old classics that most people wanted, his hair took on a mind of his own. Sure some women came to his piano while he played. None of them his type. Most of them too brassy and bold. And much older than him. On his break, he would look at the couples sitting at corner tables, leaning into each other’s space. Holding hands while their food got cold. Evan would get a catch in his throat and wander out of the dining room. Ethan would be here soon with a pizza, so he stood at the door waiting.

“The quiet sense of something lost.”

~ Tennyson

Movin' to the Beat!

Rolling rhythms and brooding blues

Satiny swinging and smooth swaying

Jumpin’ to jazz and jazzin' to jive!

“I play as I feel”

~ Oscar Peterson

Piano Jazz at Christmas

Christmas music. I’ll admit it. I love most Christmas music. My preferred is smooth piano jazz. Mellow and lovely whether it’s Jingle Bells or White Christmas. I can hear the clip clop of the horse in Jingle Bells. White Christmas shares calmness with visions of a silent snow fall. Even the soaring Hallelujah course almost pales. That magnificent music is reserved for special and more sacred times and venues. But for background music at home, there is none that beats smooth piano jazz. James Taylor or an unknown pianist on YouTube. Both have satisfied my soul, giving me much peace and joy. In a busy family, I’m afraid any music of such delicacy would be lost in the activities of this beautiful holiday season. Baking cookies with the kids or wrapping presents with a fun snowman wrapping paper. Putting up a Christmas tree or decorating with the important pieces of the season. Welcoming friends and guests into your home or last minute grocery shopping. Once the evening quiets, or maybe in the morning before everything gears up, my smooth jazz piano Christmas tunes are an excellent companion.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here.”

 J.K.Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

The Concert

This short story was written for our January writer's group assignment.  The only parameters that we set for each other was to begin the story with 'Once upon a time...' and end it with '...they lived happily ever after.'

The Concert

Once upon a time there was a young boy and a young girl who lived next door to each other at the end of a cul-de-sac. They should have been fast friends but they were definitely not. The cul-de-sac was quiet with manicured lawns and graceful trees. Every morning, each family swept their sidewalks and tidied their porches. When all was done, they met under a giant oak tree in the middle of the cul-de-sac with their tea and their coffee. On some days, especially in the summer when the sun was shining, the wind had breezed off into the city canyons and all the workers had gone to work these very orderly residents were treated to a concert. Not a real concert but the beautiful sounds of classical music drifting from the house at the top of the cul-de-sac. The young boy, tall for his age, with his long, dark curly locks and dressed all in black, was practicing his piano. His dream was to be a concert pianist and his grand piano of gleaming white set the stage for fulfilling such a dream. On such a day, he threw his patio windows wide and leaned into his music forgetting all about the world outside. Everyone, that is except one person, revelled in this concert, and a hush fell. Songbirds stopped twittering. Crows settled on fence posts to keep an eye on the gathering. Any errant breeze held its breath. Gossipy conversation beneath the tree ended. It was always a magical moment.

The one person who hated, absolutely hated, this calmness. This, this genteel, gauzy,… stupid …….she never had enough words to describe her feelings for this whole crazy 'thing'! One summer morning, when she heard ‘The Concert’ mesmerizing all of her neighbours, the young girl stamped her feet. She clenched her fists at her sides to stop from breaking something. She was about to race out the front door and scream at them all to stop. But then she had an wicked idea and the young girl loved wicked ideas. Taking the stairs two at a time to get to her bedroom, she had things to do. First, she checked herself in the mirror to be certain her hair was just perfect, her clothes were just perfect and her shoes were just perfect. From the corner of her room, she gathered up the item that would complete this wicked plan. Everything was ready. The young girl tiptoed out the front door. Quietly she sat on a stool she kept on the front porch and waited for the young boy to reach a pause, his hands gracefully lifted from the keyboard for only a moment.

The neighbours were horrified! Coffee cups and tea cups dropped in mid sip! Heads spun around to see the source of the offending noise. Crows crowed disdain and annoyance. The wind gusted in with a vengeance. The young girl, her shocking pink and very spiked hair, her torn jeans and military jacket in proper disarray and her army boots scuffed and worn, had crashed with her own vengeance from the front porch with her scratched and worn electric guitar!!!  Da-Da-Da Daaaa! Da-Da-Da Daaaa! And then her fingers moved with blinding speed over the strings, drowning out any more piano music from her next door neighbour. The young boy came suddenly to his open window ready to scream at the young girl to just stop! Suddenly he vanished  from the window. He waited for a pause in the music. Da-Da-Da Daaaa! Da-Da-Da Daaaa! His fingers flew through Beethoven's 5th Symphony, a piece he knew well. Once more a hush fell. The birds stopped twittering. The errant gust of wind went off to the next street. The crows in their shiny black suits just strutted up and down, heads bobbing in time, wings flapping with each beat of the music..

When the last notes of this magnificent symphony flew off into the grand oak tree gracing the cul-de-sac, silence was all that could be heard. The young boy stepped out on his patio and the young girl stood tall on her porch.  The smiled at each other, then at their audience and bowed. Stepping out onto the clean swept sidewalk, hand in hand, they smiled and bowed once more. The audience jumped to their feet and applauded wildly. Songbirds flitted, fluttered and twittered. The wind returned not as breeze or a gust but as a banner that heralded a grand moment in time. Crows soared up to the tallest fence to bow and bob to the young musicians. The simplicity of such a random melding of minds stunned everyone. And so all the residents of Grand View Cul-de-Sac, especially the young boy and the young girl, lived happily ever after.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here!”

~ J.K.Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Author's note: Edited February 28, 2024

Accepting an Award - Writing Assignment

Milestone, Saskatchewan. June, 1959. The United Church was not as grand as these Victoria churches. Our small church had white wooden siding, black shingles with large but humble stained glass windows. Piano recitals signal summer and freedom from practice or lessons.

Memories, like clouds that drift across our prairie skies, come in all shapes and sizes, all sorts of weather, and without prediction. Like clouds, if I were to reach up to grab one, the shape would be destroyed. If I fly through too quickly, I will leave only a hole that closes behind me. I’ve missed it’s inner beauty. The award I accepted is a memory I treat with tenderness.

Glamour was limited to Sunday best clothes and coiffure. Coiffure. I can still feel my brand new pageboy as it swung easily each time I moved my head. I had had it done at the local beauty salon on Main Street. And I had a new dress! Apple green muslin with a boat neck collar embroidered in dark green, a fitted bodice and a full skirt. As I write this I don’t recall when or if I knew that I was receiving an award. Mom and Dad must have known. A trip to the hair dresser’s and a new dress at the end of a school year was quite unusual. 

The piano recital was held in Milestone United Church. The piece of music I had chosen to play, still a favourite of mine, was Fuér Elise by Ludwig von Beethoven. I’m certain my music teacher, Mrs. Thompson, helped with that decision. I remember practising each bar separately, until dad quietly said I should just play the whole piece. Only the tension in his voice was loud. To this day, I still remember the first few bars of Fuér Elise. 

The church had been converted from a place of worship, to a place of recital. On the dais, the pulpit was moved aside and replaced by the choir leader’s piano. Each of us climbed the four steps to the dais as we were called. Each of us played our selection. My fingers stumbled on the keys once or twice. I was so glad to get back to my seat between mom and dad. Then it came time for the awards. My name was called! I politely, without running, walked down the aisle and climbed the steps once more. The Most Improved Student! This is one part of the memory that is too cloudy. I only know that it happened and that I was given a tiny gold grand piano that seems to have vanished as the decades have passed.

That was not the only award I received that day. Caught in the flow of family and friends leaving the church, by my parent’s side, my dad hugged me tight and told me he was proud of me. Accepting this unexpected award is a golden lining of this puffy white cloud of memory. Achieving a goal, being recognized by teachers, friends and family for a job well done is so very satisfying. But the gentle power of dad’s hug and his heartfelt words resonate and sustain with even greater satisfaction.

“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly 

quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories 

I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.”

~Kazuo Ishiguro,  Never Let me Go

Piano Exercise

Our host yesterday at writer's group had prepared our usual writing exercise. A ten minute stream of conscious from the stem: I know it seems silly but no matter how many times I move and no matter how far, I will not go without……… We each had a different direction after this stem. Try it out! Don't think about it, just write. With some edits, here is my take on this exercise. The last sentence, I've added tonight, as well as the title Piano Exercise.

Piano Exercise.

I know it seems silly but no matter how many times I move and no matter how far, I will not go without my piano. Or at least a reasonable facsimile of my piano. My childhood piano was not really mine, or even my family’s but belonged to a cousin. As a matter of fact it still is hers, and at the same time is still in my family’s possession. It lives in my youngest sister’s home and is a Heintzman baby grand piano. Many in my family took piano lessons on that beautiful instrument. My niece and nephew took their piano lessons on it. From the classical conservatory music that my older sister Janet played to jazz piano that my nephew Max played, this piano has been as much a member of our family history as anything else. So wherever I have moved to, a piano has come into my life. The cousin that is the owner of this piano is now in her late 80’s, lives here in B.C. and has never been able to get the piano to her home. She was 12 when it came into her possession. My present piano is a Palmer upright ~ baby grand I’m not certain, but it still keeps me in touch with family roots that are still cherished. I don’t play it often but when I do, the touch of my fingers to the notes takes me into my childhood living room and practicing piano. There is no principle to this wander down memory lane, but the principle of the power of touch to shape our memories.

“Music shouldn’t be just a tune, it should be touch.”

~ Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words

Funtimes!

What I thought this morning was
‘What have I really wanted to do?’
I puzzled and wondered and gave myself a headache
Memory told me nothing except stories from others.
I really just wanted to have fun
Read any book on the shelf over and over
Go for long walks on prairie roads
Figure skate like the older girls that won medals
Work in the garden was always fun ~ landscaping was a thought!
Play piano without knowing about the notes or the ‘right’ form
Have my own horse like my cousins ~ and a palomino
Writing stories like Jo March in Little Women up in her garret
Dance like Ginger Rogers ~ and wear the fantastic dresses!
No thought to the possibility that
work is always involved in just having fun!
Not only that…..each time I’ve had real fun
Real deep down enjoyment ~ I’ve always worked
Put my heart into it and come out tired and smiling
~ except maybe when I’m reading a good book

“We are never more fully alive, more completely ourselves, 

or more deeply engrossed in anything , than when we are at play.”

~ Charles E. Schaefer

Puttin' on the Ritz at the Belfry Theatre

There are a lot of possibilities on a Sunday afternoon. Especially a sunny Sunday afternoon when the breeze is light and dogs run and play on Dallas Road. One I hadn’t anticipated is a musical at the Belfry Theatre. Puttin’ on the Ritz is a play, created by Don Shipley, the Belfry's first Artistic Director, high lighting the music and lyrics of Irving Berlin. Four extremely talented actors and singers had us thoroughly entertained with amazing singing and hilarious antics. Lauren Bowler, Andrew MacDonald-Smith, Katrina Reynolds and John Ullyatt sang and danced the familiar Irving Berlin songs, putting little twists and turns to Irving Berlin's wonderful music. They performed Puttin' on the Ritz in this the 40^th Anniversary of the Belfry Theatre. Forty years ago, Puttin’ on the Ritz was the play that opened the Belfry Theatre at a time when money and participation was tight. Glynis Leyshon, this year’s Director for Puttin’ on the Ritz, also directed the 20^th Anniversary revival of the same play.

I would be extremely remiss if I failed to mention the marvellous pianist Nico Rhodes who played the multi-varied score throughout the entire presentation. Brad L’Ecuyer, second keys, backed him up with additional piano accompaniment as well as sound and keyboard effects.

Sunshine ~ or music, laughter and dance?  It was an easy and perfect choice.

“Music is so important. It changes thinking, it influences everybody, 

whether they know it or not. Music knows no boundary lines.”

~ Irving Berlin

An Evening At the Symphony with Beethoven and Angela Cheng

Magnificent.  The music is still ringing in my head. Piano, my favourite instrument, is a challenging, solid and grand instrument. Beethoven is my favourite composer with crashing, complex music that can also be soft and melodious.

Angela Cheng, an award winning Canadian pianist, backed up by the Victoria Symphony orchestra played masterfully and with confidence Beethoven’s Concerto No. 1 and Concerto No. 3. Both Concertos were written for piano and orchestra. The audience was held spell bound until the standing ovation and many shout outs of Bravo and Bravissimo.

This evening is one of three held this weekend at the Royal Theatre in Victoria. Each evening  features Angela Cheng and the Victoria Symphony Orchestra playing two more of Beethoven’s Concerto each night. I have been fortunate to attend the first of the three.

“Music is the one incorporeal entrance into the higher world of knowledge

 which comprehends mankind but which mankind cannot comprehend”

~ Ludwig van Beethoven