Substitute Pianist
I've always loved playing the piano. I started playing when I was four years old. Learning to read music, having a good ear, and actually applying the theory I learn into playing an instrument, all came naturally to me. In fact I distinctly remember it being so easy, it felt like a no brainer. I progressed so fast in my books and skill level because it was fun. My parents had to make me sit still in the dining table while eating because every couple of mouthfuls of food I'd run off and play the piano again! Playing the piano instantly became my thing.
Now when did it stop being my thing? I don't think it ever stopped but I had to tone down my enthusiasm because of the pressure my family was putting on me. They would make me play on the spot anywhere and anytime as long as there was a piano. Their thing wasn't "play because you love it," it was more of "play because it shows you have good breeding and it will make us look good in front of everybody -- and don't you even think of making a mistake!."
Thinking about it now I understand better where they were coming from. It's how they were raised and they were just applying what they learned from experience. They're passing it on to my generation because they either enjoyed and loved every minute of being center of attention when they were growing up or consider this as payback time. I know somewhere deep inside, they're probably proud of me. Maybe a little, but it was never conveyed clearly, so now years and years later, I'm just speculating.
It definitely had lasting damaging consequences but back then, it was the only solution I could come up with without 100% succombing to my family's wishes. I started practising sloppily whenever I knew my mom was around so she would know that I wasn't doing too well with the pieces I needed to learn. But as soon as I know nobody was around, I'd play and practice for hours and hours, trying to cram everything I need to learn without the stress of knowing that somebody's listening and ready to criticize. I stopped attending recitals. I also stopped memorizing things. I'd memorize a piece for my teacher as my final requirement but as soon as I'm done with it, I'd never play it again or just simply erase it from my memory that I ever even knew it at all. This way if I get asked to play in front of my family or friends, I had the perfect excuse -- I don't have anything memorized!
The defence mechanism I applied on myself didn't just affect my piano playing. Fear of making mistakes just became this really scary thing. Especially if I know that whatever mistake I do can be seen publicly and get back to my parents. I started becoming more shy, not volunteer for anything, take a back step on almost anything and everything, which is too bad because I'm slowly trying to undo all of these now and as much as I'm progressing, it's not the same had I always had confidence in myself since I was a child. I really would've wanted to major in piano in school but the fear was so great, I just couldn't risk me hating playing permanently.
Anyway that's enough background story. A week ago I was approached in church if I would be alright to sub for the sunday school pianist the following week because she was going to be away. Normally I would make up an excuse and back out as fast as I could before the conversation got any worse. But that day I found myself saying yes. Something I had never done before especially with piano playing. I have lost all sense of confidence on it over the years, but that day I decided -- fuck it, if I can sing symphonic choral masterpieces without prior experience, I can certainly play three two-minute church hymns!
Easier said than done. Based on my recent track record, it seems that I agree to do things without checking if I even have time to prepare for it during the week. Of course this past week was another crazy week and the tail end of our Britten Festival, not to mention I had another opening night last night and an auction. Not to mention that I had not really sat down and played the piano in oh... a couple of years? I maybe had 45 minutes to play before Eduardo and I went out for our anniversary, and that was already Wednesday -- the first time I even attempted to play the hymns on the piano! I was so rusty, my sightreading sucked, and I was under tempo! I kept at it on Friday evening, and all day Saturday before I had to run off to work that night. At that point, I knew it wasn't going to be perfect but I have managed to cram as much as I could and accelerate my learning speed as much as I can.
Today came and you know what, it wasn't that bad. I played well enough that people could sing along. It wasn't scary. I mean yes, of course I was nervous, but the people there were not there to point fingers at me and present a list of how many times I made a mistake. In fact I got an appreciative hug and a warm genuine thank you for stepping up at short notice even though they knew how busy I am. I should be the one saying thank you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove to myself that I can do it, I can still play, and perhaps there is still time to cure myself of my stupid fear.
Now when did it stop being my thing? I don't think it ever stopped but I had to tone down my enthusiasm because of the pressure my family was putting on me. They would make me play on the spot anywhere and anytime as long as there was a piano. Their thing wasn't "play because you love it," it was more of "play because it shows you have good breeding and it will make us look good in front of everybody -- and don't you even think of making a mistake!."
Thinking about it now I understand better where they were coming from. It's how they were raised and they were just applying what they learned from experience. They're passing it on to my generation because they either enjoyed and loved every minute of being center of attention when they were growing up or consider this as payback time. I know somewhere deep inside, they're probably proud of me. Maybe a little, but it was never conveyed clearly, so now years and years later, I'm just speculating.
It definitely had lasting damaging consequences but back then, it was the only solution I could come up with without 100% succombing to my family's wishes. I started practising sloppily whenever I knew my mom was around so she would know that I wasn't doing too well with the pieces I needed to learn. But as soon as I know nobody was around, I'd play and practice for hours and hours, trying to cram everything I need to learn without the stress of knowing that somebody's listening and ready to criticize. I stopped attending recitals. I also stopped memorizing things. I'd memorize a piece for my teacher as my final requirement but as soon as I'm done with it, I'd never play it again or just simply erase it from my memory that I ever even knew it at all. This way if I get asked to play in front of my family or friends, I had the perfect excuse -- I don't have anything memorized!
The defence mechanism I applied on myself didn't just affect my piano playing. Fear of making mistakes just became this really scary thing. Especially if I know that whatever mistake I do can be seen publicly and get back to my parents. I started becoming more shy, not volunteer for anything, take a back step on almost anything and everything, which is too bad because I'm slowly trying to undo all of these now and as much as I'm progressing, it's not the same had I always had confidence in myself since I was a child. I really would've wanted to major in piano in school but the fear was so great, I just couldn't risk me hating playing permanently.
Anyway that's enough background story. A week ago I was approached in church if I would be alright to sub for the sunday school pianist the following week because she was going to be away. Normally I would make up an excuse and back out as fast as I could before the conversation got any worse. But that day I found myself saying yes. Something I had never done before especially with piano playing. I have lost all sense of confidence on it over the years, but that day I decided -- fuck it, if I can sing symphonic choral masterpieces without prior experience, I can certainly play three two-minute church hymns!
Easier said than done. Based on my recent track record, it seems that I agree to do things without checking if I even have time to prepare for it during the week. Of course this past week was another crazy week and the tail end of our Britten Festival, not to mention I had another opening night last night and an auction. Not to mention that I had not really sat down and played the piano in oh... a couple of years? I maybe had 45 minutes to play before Eduardo and I went out for our anniversary, and that was already Wednesday -- the first time I even attempted to play the hymns on the piano! I was so rusty, my sightreading sucked, and I was under tempo! I kept at it on Friday evening, and all day Saturday before I had to run off to work that night. At that point, I knew it wasn't going to be perfect but I have managed to cram as much as I could and accelerate my learning speed as much as I can.
Today came and you know what, it wasn't that bad. I played well enough that people could sing along. It wasn't scary. I mean yes, of course I was nervous, but the people there were not there to point fingers at me and present a list of how many times I made a mistake. In fact I got an appreciative hug and a warm genuine thank you for stepping up at short notice even though they knew how busy I am. I should be the one saying thank you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove to myself that I can do it, I can still play, and perhaps there is still time to cure myself of my stupid fear.
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