Addison Road

My philosophy of music is changing, slightly.

I used to give little credibility to musicians who couldn’t read. What would be the use of a great poet, I thought, if she could never write down her words to share, and couldn’t partake in the words of others? The same must be true of music.

Furthermore, when I became a music major, it was somewhat shocking to me that some of my peers didn’t know their key signatures. I took annual theory tests since first grade, and in hindsight had some inner-snobbiness about that. There was even one classmate in college who was learning to read music, and while I heard people praising him, it caused me to struggle inwardly with the legitimacy of my education.

This past Christmastime, a family friend named Marc* asked me to show him some things on the piano. Marc is 17. I used to babysit him. He is a kid you can often see in his family room or on the front porch playing his guitar. Marc has had some guitar lessons and is also self-taught. While I can’t praise his techniques in detail to someone like Corey, I do know that it is pleasing to listen to Marc’s guitar playing. I think he has whatever it is that you sometimes can’t teach.

With this in mind, I looked forward to meeting with him weekly to mess around on the piano.

A few months ago, Marc enlisted in the Marines, and he reports for boot camp in August. (His 19 year-old brother is already in Iraq.) These conditions turned my ideas of education upside-down. At first, I did what I knew how to teach – intervals, basic symbols from the Adult Piano Method, etc. Then one day, he asked, “Will you teach me Claire de Lune?”

I’ve played this Debussy piece on some occasions, but had never taught it – let alone to some who isn’t a proficient reader of music. It contains five flats, complex rhythms, arpeggios that encompass several octaves… and the boy asking me is about to risk his life to protect mine. “Sure,” I said, having no idea what to expect.

And so it was that he began to learn Claire de Lune by rote. I teach him 4-8 measures each week, and he comes back playing them well. He is my hardest-practicing student. I don’t know, maybe he uses it to woo young women. And just maybe it works!

I tease him that he brings the sheet music for my sake, but it’s true, he does. Perhaps he would not survive a piano jury of judges, but it doesn’t sound half bad. If I tell him to linger on this note or create more tension in that measure, he does it. But usually I don’t have to tell him.

This week I sent him home with a Grieg lyric piece. We’ll see what happens.

So what would I say today, to a poet who couldn’t write? Maybe, “Tell me a story.”

*his real name