My earliest memory of music ...was when I was 3 years old, in my onesie pajamas pounding away on a tinkley toy piano underneath a huge Christmas tree. When my mom would play her upright piano, I’d place my little toy piano next to hers and play along. I thought I sounded great, but I’m sure after the much repetitive nature of my playing, my parents were 2 nd guessing themselves on their choice of a Christmas gift for me that year.
When I turned 5, my mother started me on Suzuki violin lessons. Being quite the accomplished violinist, she taught me herself. (Suzuki is a method of learning where you start out by playing everything only by ear. The teacher plays it to the student, and the student plays it back. Eventually you learn to read notes). I remember really wanting to learn the piano, but I was told I had to first take violin lessons. Actually, looking back, I have no idea why my mother laid down that rule, but nonetheless that is what happened.
Me around age 7 or 8
Finally when I turned 6, I started taking piano lessons, again, from my mother. My older brother was also taking lessons for both piano and cello. By the time I was in 2 nd grade, we were up at 6:00 in the morning taking turns practicing. My brother would be on the piano for 30 minutes while I was in another room practicing violin, and then we would switch so I would get the piano and he would go practice the cello. And by this time, it was always a fight for who got the piano first. My mom had finally accomplished one of her dreams and purchased a 7 foot concert grand piano. (It’s amazing how much more motivation one can have when presented with a shiny new big black piano verses an old wooden tinny upright). After the grueling morning practice sessions, my mom would load us and our instruments into the car and take us to school where we had orchestra rehearsal at 7:30am before school started. My mom was a volunteer for the school music program and so she would help out with string sectionals – which I thought was so cool at the time. There’s nothing more comforting to a 7 year old than to get to go to school and have your mom there.
Now I don’t remember this, but my mother tells me that I was the only 2nd grader in a 6th grade orchestra, and I was also the concert master. To me, I was just sitting where they told me to.
