Perhaps you—a cool indie-pop fan with a dusting of a beard or sleek leather booties—could not care less as to who came first, Bach or Beethoven.
Sharps and flats: music humor
After years of practice, attending adult piano lessons, and perhaps even performing in amateur piano concerts, you’ve accepted that the piano is a focal point of your life.
This month marks my eight-year anniversary of reclaiming my passion for the piano. Now that so many years have elapsed, am I growing tired of studying the piano? Not at all! In fact, I have found that the longer I play the piano, the deeper my commitment grows.
She flung open the door, interrupting my Bach Sonata in A Minor. A quick flick of her long blonde hair, and my flute lesson was over, despite the large clock on the wall indicating otherwise. My teacher, Susan, nearly knocked me over to greet her.
Okay, all you pianists out there, I admit it. As a flutist, I had a bit of a superiority complex: an inflated or “influted” ego, so to speak. Unlike pianos, flutes are portable and easy to assemble, and all that breath control is good for our lungs.
For Mother’s Day this year, don’t bother presenting Mom with a bouquet of plump peonies, gangly irises, and svelte tulips. Hold off on the box of dark chocolate truffles. Don’t even think about the simple gold necklace dangling with a charm.
Classical piano music may be found even in Yosemite.