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With all the threads about forcing your kids to play piano, pet peeves, bashing Lang Lang and Bach Scholar, we sometimes forget why we even play the piano at all.

Today at lunch time I just felt like playing the piano so I sat at this grand in a lounge at the Pierpont Commons on campus, a space with students lounging about, studying, staring at computer screens, walking through on their way to lunch. I played a few selections from my very limited repertoire. I hit many clunkers and had several memory slips but it all felt good and nobody threw tomatoes.

But what totally blew me away and really made my day was this email I received shortly after I returned to my office. If I ever wondered why I play the piano, this certainly is one reason:

"What a wonderful sound I heard coming from the Piano Lounge about an hour ago. I love it when you stop by to tickle the ivories. When God gave us music, we were given such a beautiful, awesome and powerful gift. It reaches and touches the heart and soul at times when nothing else can. Be sure to stop by and bless us with your gift whenever you have the time. Have a wonderful weekend!!!!"

I was so moved by this response, I simply had to tell someone!

So, what are your favorite performance stories you'd like to share?


"Playing the piano is my greatest joy...period."......JP
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Wonderful story jazzyprof and reminds me of a musical philosophy I've been pondering over lately.

I remember once a good few years ago now finding a neglected piano in a dingy little Chinese takeaway in a less desirable part of town which I decided to play. After little more than the first few pages of Grieg's piano concerto I stopped to see that I had been entertaining not only several winos but also the entire kitchen staff! Music is appreciated by people from all walks of life in one way or another which is a lovely thought.


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One of my favourite ones is the occasion some years ago when I attended a weekend conference at Cumberland Lodge in Windsor Great Park (opposite Windsor Castle). It was close enough to my home that I didn't need to spend the Friday and Saturday nights there, but I wouldn't have missed sleeping in the four-poster bed in my room there nor missing the sumptuous dinners that were laid on (fit for Royalty grin) for all the world.

But when I saw that the drawing room there had an ancient six-foot grand, I knew I just had to play it as soon as I got the chance. So, I hurried home to collect some of my music scores (as at that time I wasn't into memorizing anything that I was learning) and returned in time for dinner with my colleagues. After that, some went outside to explore the park, while I went into the drawing room with my music, and started playing that grand. It had an olde-worlde feel and tonal character, but was so responsive to my touch that I lost myself totally into it when I started on Schumann's Fantasy in C, which I had just learnt at the time. I played like I'd never played before, throwing myself into the passionate music without any inhibition whatsoever - including taking those leaps at the end of the March faster than I'd ever risked before grin. There was something about the surroundings - that old stately home and the old, beautifully preserved piano that encouraged me to give my all, such that I didn't realize that my colleagues were drifting in quietly (including those who'd returned from their walk) and sitting down to listen.

After the quiet closing chords of the long, slow finale had died away, I returned to earth and noticed my audience for the first time. Some looked mesmerized, and one or two of the women had moist eyes. I was rather embarrassed that my playing had such an effect on them, and got up to join them. I discovered that none of them had heard the music before; in fact most had never heard of Schumann, nor heard anyone play classical music on the piano. But they were all appreciative of the experience, and I was glad that I'd played the right music for the right occasion, purely by chance.......


"I don't play accurately - anyone can play accurately - but I play with wonderful expression. As far as the piano is concerned, sentiment is my forte. I keep science for Life."
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Schumann's fantasie! A difficult one, friend! A lovely story Bennevis, thanks for sharing it. I only live in Essex so perhaps I'll pop down to Windsor someday. smile


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These kind of stories really warm my heart. It's very nice to hear people still appreciate music and know how to give encouragements.
I recently heard about a project called "Play me I'm yours", where pianos were placed in various public places for random people to stop by and play. Your story reminded me of why this project was such a success smile
Anyway, I have nice story too:
When I was 17 I visited my mom at the university where she teaches. She told me they have a musics department nearby, so I went to see it. There were lots of practice rooms there with some beautiful grand pianos, so I sat down to play. (I think I played Chopin's op. 23)
When I was finished a bunch of students came in to say good job and asked me how old I was, and when I told them they were really surprised. Turns out they thought I was a student there.
We then sat and discussed (Quite vigorously,) about other works by Chopin, it was fun to have other pianists to talk about that kind of stuff. (I had no idea PW existed, I swear!!)


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Originally Posted by TheHappyMoron
Schumann's fantasie! A difficult one, friend! A lovely story Bennevis, thanks for sharing it. I only live in Essex so perhaps I'll pop down to Windsor someday. smile


Last time I ran past Cumberland Lodge (Windsor Great Park is my favourite park for my regular runs), I peered in through the window and saw that the piano is still there, though I don't know whether it's still in the same great condition as when I played it all those years ago.

But even if you can't get in to try it out yourself, the park, Virginia Water lake and the stately buildings are worth the trip from Essex. Not to mention Windsor Castle down the Long Walk, of course. smile


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I used to play this piano, a beautiful Blüthner, in the hall of my school...I didn't have one at home so, you know, I didn't have a choice...but I used to get kicked off of it *all* the time, simply because we weren't allowed to play it (sparing recitals)...um...one day, I mean, it was a *bad* day...anyway, I was improvising at the end of the day; I could usually get three or four minutes before the head of music turned up to give me my daily rollocking; rules are rules. Um...I was in a rather foul, despondent state; you know when you sort of go into a trance? The notes were the only ones I could have played, but *so* discordant...just....brutally horrid, really. And half an hour passes...and I stop (because my father would probably have words with me if I took much longer getting home), and I notice he's been there the whole time...and he says nothing as I leave. I asked him about it the next time I saw him and, as it turns out, I could play Chopin or Bach, or Webern, Beethoven or whoever, or improvise when I could bear not to, but it was when I was at the bottom of the well that he described someone's playing as "good"...um...it was an accolade I had never heard him grant before or since...just...it astonished me. I mean, here was a man that once said "you can tell if a piece is by Mozart; if you're bored by the end of ten seconds, it's probably a greater success of his." That day I recognised that though I'm about as consistent as a....really inconsistent thing....um...I have slight potential...and even if only that one time, at that point, and never again, I made music, not just sound....and even if it never happens again, that instance gave me an indeterminable, small, residual, but constant faith in myself that I couldn't have otherwise...um...for a long time I thought it a fool's memory...but then I improvised around the BWV 590 aria for the, sadly now passed, guitarist of ASBO Retards (I used to share a house with punks)...and you don't expect someone like that to start crying, at least not openly (certainly he seemed ashamed about it)...so that was nice laugh Um...I wonder, when reading your stories, if these will be the stories you would tell in a year, or two, or three or, for those like you Presto, fifty years...how many more renewals of our absolution can we bear to hope for? Because I've had at least two too many, by my reckoning...they say that history can be thought of as just stuff happening, one after the other, but it can't help but make momentous memories...even if we're forgotten by the greater populous, even if we are not renowned as Beethoven was, or is, or Bach, um...we affect the worlds of everyone we contact...and take bennevis's story; those people, though surely will usually think of other things, will carry that memory, probably, long into their lives; maybe even to the death-bed...and if we can plump and make more comfortable such repositories for people we barely contact...just by playing? Well....what a sensitive and gracious gift that is...all of us, perhaps some more than others, but all of us are blessed with the gift of music...in my opinion wink
Xxx


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Originally Posted by bennevis
Originally Posted by TheHappyMoron
Schumann's fantasie! A difficult one, friend! A lovely story Bennevis, thanks for sharing it. I only live in Essex so perhaps I'll pop down to Windsor someday. smile


Last time I ran past Cumberland Lodge (Windsor Great Park is my favourite park for my regular runs), I peered in through the window and saw that the piano is still there, though I don't know whether it's still in the same great condition as when I played it all those years ago.

But even if you can't get in to try it out yourself, the park, Virginia Water lake and the stately buildings are worth the trip from Essex. Not to mention Windsor Castle down the Long Walk, of course. smile


I just googled images of Windsor great park and it looks stunning! Definitely on my destinations list for the near future.


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Originally Posted by FSO
I used to play this piano, a beautiful Blüthner, in the hall of my school...I didn't have one at home so, you know, I didn't have a choice...but I used to get kicked off of it *all* the time, simply because we weren't allowed to play it (sparing recitals)...um...one day, I mean, it was a *bad* day...anyway, I was improvising at the end of the day; I could usually get three or four minutes before the head of music turned up to give me my daily rollocking; rules are rules. Um...I was in a rather foul, despondent state; you know when you sort of go into a trance? The notes were the only ones I could have played, but *so* discordant...just....brutally horrid, really. And half an hour passes...and I stop (because my father would probably have words with me if I took much longer getting home), and I notice he's been there the whole time...and he says nothing as I leave. I asked him about it the next time I saw him and, as it turns out, I could play Chopin or Bach, or Webern, Beethoven or whoever, or improvise when I could bear not to, but it was when I was at the bottom of the well that he described someone's playing as "good"...um...it was an accolade I had never heard him grant before or since...just...it astonished me. I mean, here was a man that once said "you can tell if a piece is by Mozart; if you're bored by the end of ten seconds, it's probably a greater success of his." That day I recognised that though I'm about as consistent as a....really inconsistent thing....um...I have slight potential...and even if only that one time, at that point, and never again, I made music, not just sound....and even if it never happens again, that instance gave me an indeterminable, small, residual, but constant faith in myself that I couldn't have otherwise...um...for a long time I thought it a fool's memory...but then I improvised around the BWV 590 aria for the, sadly now passed, guitarist of ASBO Retards (I used to share a house with punks)...and you don't expect someone like that to start crying, at least not openly (certainly he seemed ashamed about it)...so that was nice laugh Um...I wonder, when reading your stories, if these will be the stories you would tell in a year, or two, or three or, for those like you Presto, fifty years...how many more renewals of our absolution can we bear to hope for? Because I've had at least two too many, by my reckoning...they say that history can be thought of as just stuff happening, one after the other, but it can't help but make momentous memories...even if we're forgotten by the greater populous, even if we are not renowned as Beethoven was, or is, or Bach, um...we affect the worlds of everyone we contact...and take bennevis's story; those people, though surely will usually think of other things, will carry that memory, probably, long into their lives; maybe even to the death-bed...and if we can plump and make more comfortable such repositories for people we barely contact...just by playing? Well....what a sensitive and gracious gift that is...all of us, perhaps some more than others, but all of us are blessed with the gift of music...in my opinion wink
Xxx


I enjoy simply reading your posts as much as the story you tell FSO smile


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I was attending a summer music festival a few years ago, and so far, I had had a couple pretty bad performances because of nerves. But I signed up to play in one of the pianist recitals. Everyone knew I was having problems with performance anxiety, but they were all really supportive and said they would pray for me. Anyway, I was playing Schubert's impromptu Op 90 no 3, which is SO gorgeous and one of my all time favorite pieces. As soon as I touched the keys, I knew I was playing the most amazing piano I had ever played (it was a Steinway and simply incredible). There was a spotlight and it was dark in the auditorium, so I felt like I was alone. The music sounded so beautiful that I forgot all my nerves and just enjoyed playing. I was probably smiling.

And here's one just for fun that doesn't have to do with me playing a note. I used to turn pages for this chamber music festival every summer, and it was always strange and kind of funny to me that, after the show, audience members would come up to me and say things like, "good job page turning," as if I were one of the performers or something. One time, this couple came up to me and said, "We enjoyed watching your facial expressions. They really enhance the music." I don't remember making many faces, but I do remember that I smiled a lot because the music was amazing and the pianist was equally amazing.

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I adore that impromptu also WinsomeAllegretto smile


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Originally Posted by Serge Marinkovic
Mine occurred when I was at my Curtis audition. For reference my father told me at my Julliard piano audition doo not look at the judges on the jury which I easy did until the end. However, at the Curtis audition my mother was with me. I walk in the room with the same intentions but for whatever reason I quickly spotted Rudolf Serkin and Jorge Bolet then I promptly froze. I could not remember how to start my Bach Prelude and Fugue in D major. Then Jorge Bolet hums the opening bars and I as suddenly remember the score and played almost flawlessly. I was wait listed but never made it in. I then studied at Julliard with Sasha Gorodninski and Earl Wild and later NYU. I tell everybody that story. I greeted Jorge Bolet at his Carnegie Hall recital three years later and went back stage and he remembered me. He said he voted for me but they only admitted 10 piano students that year but he would potentially welcome me as a private graduate student. I told him my ambition to become a surgeon and he said that would be a better advocation for anyone because piano was so unpredictable. He spoke to me for almost an hour like a father would. So the bad and the good out of a funny moment.


Originally Posted by Andre Previn
... from Andre Previn, who told the tale of how Horowitz was dazzled when he first heard [Art] Tatum at a nightclub and took his father-in-law Toscannini to see him the next night. Tatum and Horowitz became friends...
With Hofmann, Lhevinne and Godowsky still around, Horowitz had not quite yet reached the top of the pile, and so he took to making his own finger-wrenching transcriptions, using them as his finales. Audiences had already gone wild over the "Gypsy Theme from Carmen" and, especially, his "Stars and Stripes Forever"; Horowitz was in search now for a new, more effective theme. He chose Vincent Youman's "Tea for Two". Months and months of work produced a virtuoso showpiece so knotty that it took Horowitz several months more to prepare and learn it for performance. Always the conscientious artist, he wanted first to have the opinions of those whom he respected before taking the transcription to the public; of course he asked Tatum.
Up in his apartment, Horowitz sat himself at the piano and began to pay "Tea for Two" for his Jazz counterpart. Thunder and lightening, hail and brimstone, Horowitz finished the piece and looks up immediately at Tatum with an eager set of eyes.
"What do you think?" asks the Russian.
"Very good. I enjoyed it." comes the answer. Pause. Tatum continues: "Would you like to hear my version of 'Tea for Two'?"
"Certainly I would. Go ahead."
Tatum gets up and launches into the piece that has always been one of his specialties. Horowitz' mouth drops when he hears what he hears and as soon as the Jazzman finishes:
"My God! That was fantastic! Where did you get that transcription? You must give it to me!"
"Transcription?" answers Tatum, "That was no transcription. I was just improvising!"
Horowitz liked to play "Tea for Two" for his own pleasure; but he never played it in public.


Art Tatum performance stories

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Originally Posted by Bobpickle
Originally Posted by Serge Marinkovic
Mine occurred when I was at my Curtis audition. For reference my father told me at my Julliard piano audition doo not look at the judges on the jury which I easy did until the end. However, at the Curtis audition my mother was with me. I walk in the room with the same intentions but for whatever reason I quickly spotted Rudolf Serkin and Jorge Bolet then I promptly froze. I could not remember how to start my Bach Prelude and Fugue in D major. Then Jorge Bolet hums the opening bars and I as suddenly remember the score and played almost flawlessly. I was wait listed but never made it in. I then studied at Julliard with Sasha Gorodninski and Earl Wild and later NYU. I tell everybody that story. I greeted Jorge Bolet at his Carnegie Hall recital three years later and went back stage and he remembered me. He said he voted for me but they only admitted 10 piano students that year but he would potentially welcome me as a private graduate student. I told him my ambition to become a surgeon and he said that would be a better advocation for anyone because piano was so unpredictable. He spoke to me for almost an hour like a father would. So the bad and the good out of a funny moment.


Originally Posted by Andre Previn
... from Andre Previn, who told the tale of how Horowitz was dazzled when he first heard [Art] Tatum at a nightclub and took his father-in-law Toscannini to see him the next night. Tatum and Horowitz became friends...
With Hofmann, Lhevinne and Godowsky still around, Horowitz had not quite yet reached the top of the pile, and so he took to making his own finger-wrenching transcriptions, using them as his finales. Audiences had already gone wild over the "Gypsy Theme from Carmen" and, especially, his "Stars and Stripes Forever"; Horowitz was in search now for a new, more effective theme. He chose Vincent Youman's "Tea for Two". Months and months of work produced a virtuoso showpiece so knotty that it took Horowitz several months more to prepare and learn it for performance. Always the conscientious artist, he wanted first to have the opinions of those whom he respected before taking the transcription to the public; of course he asked Tatum.
Up in his apartment, Horowitz sat himself at the piano and began to pay "Tea for Two" for his Jazz counterpart. Thunder and lightening, hail and brimstone, Horowitz finished the piece and looks up immediately at Tatum with an eager set of eyes.
"What do you think?" asks the Russian.
"Very good. I enjoyed it." comes the answer. Pause. Tatum continues: "Would you like to hear my version of 'Tea for Two'?"
"Certainly I would. Go ahead."
Tatum gets up and launches into the piece that has always been one of his specialties. Horowitz' mouth drops when he hears what he hears and as soon as the Jazzman finishes:
"My God! That was fantastic! Where did you get that transcription? You must give it to me!"
"Transcription?" answers Tatum, "That was no transcription. I was just improvising!"
Horowitz liked to play "Tea for Two" for his own pleasure; but he never played it in public.


Art Tatum performance stories


Wow, both stories were fantastic, but thank you especially for sharing the one about Horowitz and Tatum. I read on PW that Horowitz admired him, so I started listening to his music too. Reading this story makes me even more excited to explore jazz . . . but I think I'll start with "Tea for Two" tonight smile.


Beethoven - Op.49 No.1 (sonata 19)
Czerny - Op.299 Nos. 5,7 (School of Velocity)
Liszt - S.172 No.2 (Consolation No.2)

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Arthur Rubinstein was also a huge Art Tatum fan. It's not hard to see why. Tatums playing is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I like to think it's how Chopin or Liszt might have played.


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OT:

There's an old Mason and Hamlin upright in my college's auditorium. I sneak in there every now and then to bang away at it, to the disdain of the floor staff and security guards smile.

Now, I'm an atrocious 'pianist' . . . I couldn't play a single note well to save my life, but I tried the opening bars of Rachmaninoff's Eb Elegie (op.3 no.1) anyway. The janitor was in the back of the auditorium, unknown to me, and he asked, "Hey, that was real beautiful . . . what was that?"

It was a small moment, but it meant a lot to me because for my entire life, I have never heard anything but criticisms and insults regarding my playing. They're justified, and I'm definitely going to work with the best teachers I can for as long as I can, but sometimes I feel like even someone who has never touched a piano before could sit down and coax a nicer sound than I can.

And for once, it felt like that didn't matter. I'll never forget it!

And to the other posters: I enjoyed your stories a lot and I imagined myself as one of the listening characters. Honestly, those moments make all the frustrating ones worth it.


Beethoven - Op.49 No.1 (sonata 19)
Czerny - Op.299 Nos. 5,7 (School of Velocity)
Liszt - S.172 No.2 (Consolation No.2)

Dream piece:
Rachmaninoff - Sonata 2, movement 2 in E minor
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I'd like to crown this thread as "Best Thread Ever". The stories here are really nice to read smile


"If I decide to be an idiot, then I'll be an idiot on my own accord."
- Johann Sebastian Bach.

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