Terrorism Eighty Eight Times Over

Terrorism Eighty Eight Times Over
(Playing the piano in public)


J.S.Bach informs us that ‘It’s easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself.’

Good advice; however, on having established ourselves at the piano with the purpose of entertaining an audience we are promptly deposited in the aircraft with the recent knowledge that the navigational skills of our pilot have been superseded by those of the terrorist. We feel vulnerable as we have placed a heightened exposure onto our acquired skills which form the current conclusion to our many hours of practice. For many people utopia is the achievement of detaching our concerns from the opinions of others. I have met people who say that they have achieved this undertaking but I have met few people who have found this to be a transferable asset in the production of sound. To counter this delicacy we often find ingenious ways people use to diminish this helplessness.

Rachmaninoff endured the pains of a nervous performer. In his Second Piano Concerto we hear at the beginning of the first movement his attempt at diminishing his perpetual migraine. The opening bars present the piano in servitude to the orchestra. These mighty rolling chords which represent the bells of the Sacred Church are gentle – they are needles landing on cotton wool. Rachmaninoff composed these bells with strategic precision so he could use these opening bars to ‘warm his hands’ and to allow any suspect notes to be ingested by the orchestra.

C.J.Ellison teaches us ‘There’s always someone bigger and badder who can knock you off your perch.’ I remember many years ago in Llandudno a female busker of around 60 years who stood each day alongside her keyboard. The town’s shoppers would stand staring at her (and I’m sure the hungry seagulls above would stare down upon her). This lady hosted Llandudno in the pores of her skin. Each day she would predictably wear her pink glasses with a matching polka dot skirt that refused to meet the distance to her knees. Whilst inviting us to the sounds of her trusty Yamaha she would often dine on her fingernails, and as she dined her music would continue, never missing even a quaver! Bill Gates would admire this lady ‘Choose a lazy person to do a hard job because that person will find an easy way to do it.’ This lady’s shortcut was the ‘demonstration’ button. Every note that filled Mostyn Street was produced from the factory setting of the keyboard which is a feature that most keyboards own. At times this lady performer would make effort to move her fingers accordingly to the preset melodies, other times she seemed quite content that her fingers were gliding in contrary motion to the preselected rhythm. She was fascinating to watch and she never gave me reason to believe she suffered from stage fright!

Repetition is the mother of all skills. You need to play the piano often and under pressure. Record yourself- this will highlight the dark alleyway areas of the musical score. Play for your friends and family – rinse and repeat until this becomes normal. Listen to Thelonious Monk ‘There are no wrong notes; some are just more right than others.’

A student was practising Silent Night on her upright, she finished the verse just in time for her neighbour’s guests in the semi-detached home to sing for her the second verse, as they finished both the pianist and guests gave each other a round of applause. The pianist was smiling, she was a performer and she had an audience in her empty room.

Paul White