88 keys and love
The piano was my first musical instrument. My parents bought an old upright piano for $100. We rescued this instrument from an abandoned farmhouse in rural Mcduffie County, Georgia, and when we first saw it the instrument was covered in an avalanche of sawdust. The piano was transported to Augusta, rebuilt, and it remained my instrument for years.
Piano recitals were prominent in my early musical life, and I remember one early recital where I entered the stage and froze with panic. I couldn’t remember which side of the piano bench I was supposed to enter. I think my piano teacher shouted something like, “Just sit down!”
In high school I was mesmerized with now Rome, Georgia, resident Beverly Harris. She was so good she took lessons from a professional all the way over in Augusta! She accompanied our high school chorus and its splendid musicals, and Beverly won awards and our admiration throughout those young years. She still contributes her pianistic mastery at First Baptist Church of Rome.
As I wound my way through undergraduate school, I took piano classes and eventually private piano lessons at the university. I truly did love to play the piano, and at one particular music jury the piano faculty held a meeting and decided that I should change my major to piano. I summoned up my best diplomatic skills and replied that I felt the singing world was where I was most comfortable. It got a little tense.
Most voice teachers are required to possess at least some piano playing ability, for excellent piano players are rare, and getting more rare. One gains the basic teaching repertoire and struggles through piano parts while keeping half of one’s brain and one ear on the student’s sounds and mannerisms. The end result is that one’s piano skills tend to get stronger as one navigates the keyboard over decades.
I had one seminal moment in graduate school in Bloomington, Indiana. The legendary virtuoso Vladimir Horowitz came to town for one of his concerts. He brought his own piano, a personal chef, and he only played in the afternoon, never in the evening.
The concert transported me to another artistic sphere. I have seldom been truly carried away, but that musical afternoon began, and then I looked down at my watch and two hours had passed. Hard to put into words, but I still remember the sizzle on my skin as the man wove his musical spell that memorable spring afternoon.
I sang an audition for Albuquerque’s professional opera company a few years ago. I entered the church and gave my music folder to the pianist sitting at the concert Steinway.
By the way, they are not called accompanists anymore. This is in reference, and rightly so, that they are equals on the concert platform, not merely serving the singer, violinist, or instrumentalist. We call them collaborative artists or collaborative pianists.
I heard the initial few notes of my first audition aria and I almost spun around. Kristin Ditlow Yuan shot lightning bolts from her fingers, and I remember thinking, “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Since that auspicious introduction, we have collaborated in numerous projects and she and her talented husband are now close family friends.
Kristin has a new recording out which I highly recommend. Her solo recording on the Affetto label is titled, “Passages — solo piano works inspired by opera and song.” The recording (I have it on CD) is sonically breathtaking and her playing ranges from intimate pianistic thoughts to thundering room-shaking outbursts. She is a consummate interpreter.
I recently updated my home stereo system with an ear for enhancing piano recordings, and “Passages” and my new speakers are matches made in musical heaven.
Recently I learned of the passing of a musical giant, one who I was unfamiliar with. His name was Ahmad Jamal.
How did I miss this musical giant? For decades he graced the world’s most important musical stages and shared musical events with the who’s who of jazz. Somehow I never discovered him, but no more.
I went out and purchased three recordings and I can’t get enough of them. Jamal’s “Ballades” recorded in Malakoff, France, is moody, violent, brittle, and floats on a bed of red velvet. Also recorded in France, his “Marseille” is no less a masterpiece.
What is it about that huge instrument that dominates almost any stage and features one (usually) talented person pressing down unimaginable combinations of 88 keys? Oh, and there are pedals to navigate as well. My memories of collaboration with former student Paul Thurmond, Berry College Professor Kris Carlisle, Kathryn Nobles, Wanda Cantrell, and Ken Moyers are vivid with shared performances from Carnegie Hall to the great capitals of Europe.
Upon searching, one will find no shortage of current and classic piano recordings, whether vinyl, CD, or on the ubiquitous streaming services.
Enjoy a most pleasant pianistic journey.