Shut Up and Listen...
12/08/08 11:00
Just finished a piano lesson with one of my
brightest students. (Yeah, it's late...) We've
really been driving and focused on an upcoming
test this Spring where he'll be adjudicated on
multiple classical pieces, theory and technique.
It's a really good experience and he'll be a
better musician for it, but the learning curve is
steep and the road is long. This guy is very
gifted in pop music as well, and has started
writing music. (He also plays bass, guitar and
drums. Yeah, one of THOSE kids.)
Unfortunately, yours truly has been so set in grinding away on the dead-people's music that I've kind of left his passion behind. I really noticed it last week as I presented him with a stack of books representing the music he's currently working on and what's coming soon. All classical. His face looked so sad.
Tonight he arrived and mentioned his day was hard. Instead of jumping into our usual warm-up, I encouraged him to talk about his day. After a while I asked if he had been writing anything lately, and he said he had. I asked him to share his new stuff with me at the end of the lesson. We worked through some technique and theory, then a new Bach Invention and a Debussy piece he started recently.
When the lesson normally would have ended we kept going. He played me a new original instrumental piece that was stunning (which he will now be playing in our next recital). Partially planned, partially improvised, it had some wonderful harmonies and melodies. Then he played and sang a new song he wrote last week. Dang it if it wasn't almost ready for radio! Amazing! I was moved. Great lyrics, great changes, well played and well sung. We banged around some arranging ideas, but by then my daughter was waiting for her bedtime snuggle and I really had to go.
The upshot is: I need to shut up and listen sometimes. I need to keep that balance. I pride myself on being a diverse teacher, but I had let a number of things cloud how I've approached this student's lessons. The end of this lesson was sooo much better than the last ten lessons have ended. I hope we can continue the dialogue.
(Thanks Micah. Sorry for the delay...)
n
Unfortunately, yours truly has been so set in grinding away on the dead-people's music that I've kind of left his passion behind. I really noticed it last week as I presented him with a stack of books representing the music he's currently working on and what's coming soon. All classical. His face looked so sad.
Tonight he arrived and mentioned his day was hard. Instead of jumping into our usual warm-up, I encouraged him to talk about his day. After a while I asked if he had been writing anything lately, and he said he had. I asked him to share his new stuff with me at the end of the lesson. We worked through some technique and theory, then a new Bach Invention and a Debussy piece he started recently.
When the lesson normally would have ended we kept going. He played me a new original instrumental piece that was stunning (which he will now be playing in our next recital). Partially planned, partially improvised, it had some wonderful harmonies and melodies. Then he played and sang a new song he wrote last week. Dang it if it wasn't almost ready for radio! Amazing! I was moved. Great lyrics, great changes, well played and well sung. We banged around some arranging ideas, but by then my daughter was waiting for her bedtime snuggle and I really had to go.
The upshot is: I need to shut up and listen sometimes. I need to keep that balance. I pride myself on being a diverse teacher, but I had let a number of things cloud how I've approached this student's lessons. The end of this lesson was sooo much better than the last ten lessons have ended. I hope we can continue the dialogue.
(Thanks Micah. Sorry for the delay...)
n