Guest post by Alexandra Westcott

This article about learning the piano, the skills and the memories was lovely, and jogged my own memories of myself both as student and teacher.

I was about 6 when I used my sister’s books to learn the piano – they had photos for hand positions and finger numbers and that seemed all I needed (I’ve no idea to this day how I learned the rhythm and counting; I don’t remember reading about it but I must have!). I raced through the books and started fiddling with any music floating around, which was a fair amount as my Mum was a singer and also played the piano. I remember having the C major Mozart sonata at home and learning two pages during each holiday when home from boarding school at around 8 or 9. At this point Mum asked me if I wanted lessons, and because all my friends hated it (they hated the
practice); I said no because I loved playing, but she obviously ignored me and I ended up with a teacher I adored with whom I became very close.

I played the piano in all my spare time to the extent my reports used to say ‘she spends a lot of time at the piano’ and during prep, having done my homework as fast as possible, would skip off to the music rooms. I was fussy even then about the piano I played, and only the teachers’ or the grand in the assembly hall would do! None of the awful practice pianos for me!

During my time at school with this wonderful teacher, me and a group of friends would be taken away for a weekend each term to him and his wife at his amazing ancient cottage. He was the church organist and ran the church choir so we ate well on local Devon produce that he was given by local friends and members of the church. At times we also had breakfast in bed (often sugar on toast!), It was all very idyllic and I stayed in touch with him and his wife until they died.

For the 6th form I left there and went to a college local to my home, so I changed teacher and went to a local music school during my A levels. A completely different teacher and one the parents were scared of but the pupils loved. We did Sunday concerts at her house, always with cake, and a large concert once a year at the 6th form college at which she got her advanced students to do a movement of a concerto with her school orchestra. I did the first movement of the Schumann. I never wanted to be a concert pianist but this was good experience and I later had the chance to play on a few occasions with another orchestra, and for one of the concerts performed the whole of the Schumann. It brought back many memories.

I had another teacher for my degree, and then had a break in formal lessons before returning to a commitment to my own playing in my 20s. I had a local teacher for a year but then met Nelly Ben Or and knew I had to learn with her.

Nelly Ben Or

I studied with Nelly for many many years undoing my bad habits in order to acquire new and better ones and becoming a much better pianist, and a better teacher for that. I would often have lunch along with my lessons, and, again, house concerts and other performances enhanced the lessons. And, yes, you guessed it, always with accompanying food and drink.

As a teacher myself I became the sort of teacher I had grown up with; I had close bonds with my students, always had house concerts and local concerts both with tea parties afterwards, usually some chocolate for after lessons, and often would become close friends and either take them out for tea when young, or stay in touch later on.

Piano teachers, or any instrument teacher, hold a particular place in the life of a child. Such a close bond is formed and often many confidentialities shared. There needs to be trust for something that is hard to learn and something that needs self expression in execution. It is maybe not surprising that the bond becomes a firm friendship (and, often, one that needs physical as well as sustenance)!

I often wonder about my students’ memories of their time with me and whether they have similar memories as I do about my own mentors. I hope they hold the same  happy and cherished memories in their hearts for all the hours we spent and fun we had together as I do for my own teachers.

Alexandra Westcott is a piano teacher based in north London who specialises in understanding the piano in the light of the Alexander Technique, as studied with Nelly Ben Or, and encourages all areas of learning in a creative way. Find out more here

If you would like to share your piano memories, whether you are a teacher or pianist, or bothm, please get in touch


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Following one of those wonderfully serendipitous encounters on the internet, I am delighted to present “Notes from the Keyboard”, a series of articles for adult amateur pianists, by Dakota Gale, chronicling his own experiences of learning the piano as an adult.


Four years ago, my wife surprised me with a digital piano for my birthday. I’d mentioned my desire to learn a few times and, ever the muse, she called my bluff.

I couldn’t read music. Finding middle C was a quest. I was a B-E-G-I-N-N-E-R.

And yet…she was right. At 38 years old, I tumbled rapturously into the world of piano. 

Four years later, the honeymoon phase is over, and yet I remain motivated to play every day and am still loving the journey. (<–understatement: I’m head-over-heels for it.)

I even do stuff like learning to do portraits by drawing musicians! (My wife tells me that’s eccentric…) 

I’m playing pieces by Chopin, Debussy, Beethoven, Liszt, and other famous composers that I thought were a decade off. Even facing the inevitable frustrations of piano study, I’m finding joy in piano every.single.day.

Learning piano transcends fun – I feel like I’ve unearthed a gift, a path to access some of the most beautiful music ever written. Accessing the pieces revealed a fountain of satisfaction that isn’t tied to money or achievement, a much-needed oasis of play as an adult.

In fact, I’ll often drop into a flow state for 30 minutes and be surprised when my timer goes off. Where else do we get that feeling once we’re done playing with Legos or mud pies?

You, mega-savvy adult reader, can do it too!

Adults CAN learn to play piano

I share my achievements not to brag (many pianists young and old far outshine my abilities), but to offer hope to adult learners. If you’re telling yourself, “Oh, I could never learn to play” or “I’m not musical” or “only kids can learn piano,” let me persuade you otherwise.

I’m shocked how many people tell me only children can learn. Well, kids are “naturals” at learning because:

  1. They don’t over-complicate things, focusing on foundational blocks that are small and approachable. (Be it music, language, or other skills.)
  2. Kids are able to practice more undistracted hours because an adult provides housing, food, and does their laundry. Their job is to be curious sponges; our Adult Role is often yawn-tastic Tuesdays, repeated.

Adults lack those luxuries. We put pressure on ourselves, try to play songs that are too hard for us, question if the time investment is worth it, and simply don’t have as much time to practice.

I’m an adult. (It snuck up on me.) On top of all the typical adult stuff, I have far too many hobbies. Sometimes friends do annoying things like interrupt my piano reverie to invite me to dinner or on bike rides. *sigh* The inconsiderate louts, I must practice!

And yet by carving out time each day to study piano, in a few months I reached a deeply satisfying level of proficiency that kept me coming back. After four years, I’m frankly astonished sometimes at what my fingers can do.

As a bonus, it’s beautiful for people to listen to (or so they pretend). A skill I’ll enjoy and develop for a lifetime, long after I’m done taking irresponsible risks on my mountain bike.

Beyond that, I’m fired up! I look forward to enjoying creating music the rest of my life and only wish I’d started earlier.


Dear reader, welcome to “Notes from the Keyboard: Adult Piano Chronicles” on The Cross-Eyed Pianist. This will be an ongoing series about my journey learning piano as an adult. I’ll share my journey (ups and downs!) and headaches with pieces and how I resolve them. I promise to absolutely not take myself too seriously—after all this is a hobby, not a vocation.

If you have ideas for topics you’d like to hear about from a dedicated amateur student of classical piano such as myself, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m looking forward to sharing this journey with you!


Dakota Gale

When he isn’t playing piano, Dakota Gale enjoys learning languages (especially Italian) and drawing. He also writes about reclaiming creativity as an adult and ditching tired personal paradigms in his newsletter, Traipsing About. He can often be spotted camping and exploring mountain bike trails around the Pacific Northwest.


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Guest post by Ingrid on the experience of studying with Dr Michael Low


Like many musicians, my journey started thanks to a fabulous piece I heard one day (and for sure so many more, but it has been a while so I can’t quite tell) that moved my heart and soul so deeply that I started daydreaming about it and about being able to do that same thing with the piano. I was maybe 10 or 13, but it took a while until I finally got to convince my parents to allow me to start learning the piano.

This led me to begin music lessons at the National Conservatoire here in Guatemala, and, as all music schools based on tradition, the curriculum included not only piano per se, but also Solfege, History, Tonal Harmony, and other subjects that are intended to nurture (and they actually do) your musical understanding and therefore your musical interpretation. A couple of years later I decided to pursue a music degree at university, and I obtained a Teacher’s Diploma in Music and a bachelor’s degree in music composition.

All of this gave me the tools to finally “play the piano”, which we normally say when we hear someone “play” that instrument. But little did I know that there is a huge dimension behind the mere study of any artistic discipline, that is sometimes overlooked and underestimated – that is, the Human Dimension, with all its intricacies and complexities.  

And why is it overlooked? Well, maybe because we usually assume that as artists (musicians, painters, writers…) that dimension is an obvious part of us, and even if that is true, no one ever prepares us for the setbacks and negative experiences that are inevitably part of the journey. As musicians we may suffer from stage fright, we may face abusive/authoritarian teachers, we may be immersed in a toxic competitive environment, we may be the target of intended mean critics, and none of that has to do with the subjects that we learn in during our studies, and that prepare us to become professional musicians – but it has a lot to do with who we are as human beings and how we practice our art.

These setbacks may lead us to reconsider our career path and that maybe we need a change. Some of us may decide to make a radical change, some of us may decide to make a small change. But all of this raises the question of how we can thrive when facing such difficult challenges.

I started searching for answers and began to read blogs where other musicians shared their own experiences in similar situations; blogs where teachers shared their thoughts on how to build a healthy technique and learning environment; blogs where authors shared their thoughts on creativity and how to foster it in your own practice; blogs that shared research based tips to better manage performance anxiety; and I found great resources in authors like Noa Kageyama, Forrest Kinney, William Westney, Graham Fitch, Penelope Roskell, Frances Wilson (The Cross-Eyed Pianist), Rhonda Rizzo, Zsolt Bognár and Michael Low.

In one of those blogs, I was particularly struck by an article that Dr. Michael Low shared where he talked about his own journey with the piano, performance anxiety and the tradition in music education. It really resonated with me, so I started following his work closely.

At some point we also started sharing our musical impressions through social media and video chat. I shared with him that I was re-studying the Brahms’ Intermezzo in A, op. 118 no. 2, and sent him a recording I made of the piece.  I remember he gave me some observations about it and his enthusiasm to work on it musically. I am not exaggerating when I say that this experience has been life changing.

I have to say I’d never had the chance to really discover and experiment with that (or any other) piece, nor I have had the chance to “think outside the box” musically speaking, because you are normally taught that there are “rules” that you must respect as interpreter, and sometimes even “fear”. There is nothing wrong with rules, but as an artist you can always trust your own criteria to use them; however, only an open-minded teacher and artist can help you discover that, and one of them is Dr. Michael Low.

It amazes me how spontaneously Dr. Low fosters that safe environment for experimentation, and how through funny examples and direct questions he challenges your own beliefs: be it about the piece or the composer or your own playing, always in a very kind and respectful manner, going beyond the surface and helping you to start thinking more as an artist than just a “piano player”. And the best part is that there are plenty of Eureka! moments, when you discover all the possibilities you have in your own hands, under his guidance.

And even if I have been in piano lessons before, there has always been a rush and a pressure to play a particular piece “perfectly”, not giving any space to really discover it (besides the obvious aspects of technique and analysis that are intrinsic to the music study), and to find one’s own voice as a musician and, most importantly, as artist. When there is too much noise outside, we get distracted from what we must look for on the inside.

After working all this time with Dr. Low and sharing interesting discussions about music, while also applying and following all of his very insightful advice in my own practice (both as teacher and as pianist), I have come to various conclusions that make me think about how we can thrive.

  • There is not just one answer, nor a right or wrong one, but there are some general thoughts that are worth always keeping in mind:
  • Music is a lifelong learning career/experience where one of our biggest enemies is the obsession with perfection
  • Kindness, in every aspect: with ourselves and with others, is a life changer as it creates wonders
  • Patience with our own artistic growth, as no path is the same as other and there is no one-size-fits-all solution for such big endeavor

As Vincent van Gogh wrote to his brother Théo, in a letter from May 1882, with relation to the meaning of being an artist:

“(…) Those words naturally imply always seeking without ever fully finding. It’s the exact opposite of saying ‘I know it already; I’ve already found it’. To the best of my knowledge, those words mean ‘I seek, I pursue, my heart is in it’.” 

This article is translated from the original Spanish, which you can read here:


Dr Michael Low is a pianist and teacher based in South Africa. If this article has piqued your interest in his work, why not come along to a masterclass at Coach House Pianos London showroom on Saturday 1 June to observe Dr Low teaching advanced amateur pianists in a variety of repertoire. The event is hosted by Frances Wilson AKA The Cross-Eyed Pianist.

Further details/tickets here

Coach House Pianos London Showroom

I admit it, I’m a fervent auto-didact, a “self-teacher” whose answer to “how do I do that?” is to either reach for a book or more likely these days, look it up on Google or YouTube.

For me, self-teaching goes hand-in-hand with mastery as both require a willingness to stick to the task with a deep sense of purpose and intent.

Self-teaching – the process of educating oneself without the guidance of a formal teacher or instructor- is a powerful tool that can be used to acquire new skills, deepen existing knowledge, and pursue personal interests. One of the main benefits of self-teaching is that it allows for a customised learning experience. Traditional music education often follows a one-size-fits-all approach, which tends not to treat each student as an individual, with their own strengths and weaknesses. With self-teaching, you have the freedom to choose the materials, resources, and speed of progress that work best for you. This can make the learning process more engaging, effective and, importantly, interesting.

Why is self-teaching important for the musician? Self-teaching can be a great way to build self-motivation and self-discipline. When you take responsibility for your own learning, you develop a sense of ownership and pride in your achievements. This can be a powerful motivator and can lead to increased confidence and self-esteem. More importantly, self-teaching encourages creative thinking, problem-solving, and curiosity – all useful skills for the musician.

My own experience of self-teaching has been extremely positive and motivating. When I moved away from London five years ago, I left behind several very important teachers and mentors, who had supported, encouraged, and inspired me while I was studying for professional performance diplomas, having returned to the piano after an absence of nearly 25 years. Having studied with two master teachers for nearly 10 years and received mentorship from several other significant pianist-teachers, I felt ready to “go it alone” and cease piano lessons altogether. I would not have felt sufficiently confident to do this had my teachers and mentors not instilled in me a sense of trust in my own musical instincts, secure technique, and a strong awareness of my own interpretative choices and artistry as a musician. Thus, I had firm foundation on which to continue my musical studies on my own.

It may take me longer to work out certain technical issues at the piano, but the process of self-teaching encourages one to find a way through a problem, which in itself becomes a useful learning tool. I also feel liberated from the sense that there is a “right way” to play certain repertoire; interpretative choices are down to my own knowledge and appreciation of the music.

Self-teaching does come with its own set of challenges, one of the biggest being staying motivated and on track. Without the guidance of a teacher, it can be easy to lose focus or become discouraged. To overcome this challenge, it is important to set clear goals, create a practice schedule, and seek out trusted friends and colleagues who can provide feedback and encouragement.



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