By |

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:

Lesson with Dr Michael Low (Spanish version)Download

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

By |

The decision to leave one’s piano teacher and move on can be a difficult one, especially if the relationship is longstanding. I have written more about this subject here. 

Ann Grogan, a poet and adult pianist, contacted me after reading my article to share her own thoughts on the issues surrounding the decision to leave a teacher, and I am sharing a excerpt from her article on this subject here:

In appreciation because they help me reach my goals, I fall into a kind of deep music-love affair with each of my teachers. Music and piano lessons open up my heart and emotions, and make me feel raw, vulnerable, and exposed in a way that other kinds of art lessons have never done. Music is special in this way, at least for me.

THE DANGER OF BEING OVERLY IMPRESSED: Sometimes this specialness causes me to set aside what I note is out of place in a lesson or in the teaching relationship, in favor of long-term hopes and dreams. That is usually never a good thing to do. I’ve learned to speak up earlier and more often when I’m fairly certain I’m not enjoying something I am trying to learn or a particular approach the teacher insists I apply.

In one case, I’m certain that I was initially overly-impressed by a teacher’s many published CDs featuring original compositions and pianistic talents in a preferred musical genre that was not mine, and another teacher’s stature as a well-known professional pianist with ubiquitous “how to” vlogs. However, I failed to do my due diligence and had no clue about their teaching ability in general, or if their approaches and policies were compatible with what are certain basic requirements I have for piano lessons.

For many seniors, the process of learning the piano is critical, in that it must function in the nature of a partnership and not a top-down affair. Being overly-impressed hinders my ability to observe what is happening as lessons unfold. I stray from my desire to learn in partnership with my teacher. Sometimes I continue studying with the teacher beyond what is reasonable and productive.

Read more

By |

How long have you been playing the piano?

As an adult, I spent 2 years with a jazz teacher and a few additional months working with a singer-songwriter. During this period I had no classical piano training, preferring instead to focus on jazz harmony and song-writing. However, I did play a lot of scales and arpeggios, some quite creative (modes, chord-scale theory etc.) At the end of this period of rather ad-hoc and chaotic learning, I felt I could play the piano (just) but now realised that I did need to find a ‘real’ piano teacher. Technique. And I did. She diagnosed me as ‘perhaps G5’ and suggested we work together to push to G6 and G7 with all due haste. I did, but it was a lot of work. Too much, I feel. Piano coordination does not come naturally to me. Before I say more, let me explain that, as a child, I did play a little. Maybe got to G3, but my ‘gap’ and return to the piano is the ever-present chasm of forty-five years! I am, therefore, the proverbial ‘very late returning’ adult pianist. I left a lucrative career to pursue the bewitching instrument and I am only too well aware of what I call my narrowing ‘window of opportunity’. The clock is ticking. I certainly need to make more progress over the next year or two. The last eighteen months has not been easy, what with the pandemic. I chose not to do ‘zoom’ lessons. That was probably a mistake. And, to make matters worse, I suffered a cycling accident pre-pandemic, just as things were coming together for me. I was unable to play for a year. This lost time led to a loss of skills which then had to be hard-won all over again. My surgeon called it ‘retraining’. At this point I nearly lost the will to continue.

What attracted you to the piano?

Harmony. Overtones. Resonance. And dissonance. I simply love the sound. Always have; always will. The instrument is wide open to composition and improvisation. As a child, our modest upright was more an object of curiosity, an engineering marvel, than it was a musical instrument. I remember the occasions when I removed the front panel and watched, fascinated, as the hammers and levers, pecking and bobbing like birds at the taut strings, moved in synchronisation with my fingers. I was not playing the piano, I was performing a physics experiment. It was a laboratory demonstration accompanied by a cacophony of dissonance, shifting and dancing in time with the intricate mechanism. Had our piano been a musical box or fairground automaton, I suspect I would have been equally satisfied just studying its movements for hours on end in an attempt to discern its inner workings. But out of these naïve experiments came my first embryonic compositions. Some of these teenage pretensions were so complex I could hardly play them. My young mind was racing ahead, my fingers less so. And school (and my natural ability with ‘making’ and fascination with electronics) was steering me in a different direction. A career in computing during the 80s and 90s took over, and real life (children, family) intervened. Here I am, forty-five years later, regretting I had not stuck at the awkward childhood piano lessons my parents had funded. For me, the sounds and the music itself has always been the draw.

What kind of repertoire do you enjoy playing, and listening to?

I want to play the impressionists, Debussy, Poulenc, Ravel. Also Delius. But let me be clear, it’s the harmony that attracts me. It is probably not a coincidence that these composers were influencing and influenced by the emergence of jazz. My return to the piano, if we can call it that, was not a planned or deliberate act. I was out shopping. It hit me like a brick. I simply had to play. I walked into a music shop and asked for a teacher. He happened to be a jazz musician. He fitted like a glove. And for anyone who thinks less of jazz than ‘classical’, think again. One of my heroes is Dave Grusin. I’ve love to be able to play his rich brew of harmonic shifts. And as I explore the ‘serious’ composers, I hear echoes of the jazz giants all the time. Even within today’s ‘cutting edge’ jazz scene. Ever heard of Sam Crowe of Native Dancer? To improvise like Sam would be a joy …. but I’d need to study a Phd in jazz harmony as pre-requisite, as indeed he has. So, for the time being my performances are rather more modest … but the harmony has to be there. I love Satie and intend to make a decent recording; if only for the family archive. And I keep tripping over cute pieces that contain echoes of the chords and colours I love so much. You know, dominant 13ths, flat 5ths, sharp 9ths, chords in 4ths, the tritone. An example: during G6 I played Petite Litancies De Jesus by Gabriel Grovlez. It’s simply lovely. And more recently I have found Giya Kanceheli. He wrote for film and stage. His collection entitled ‘Simple Music for Piano’ is gorgeous, and within my reach. Again, I intend to record.

Much of the ‘grade syllabus’ does not contain music I particularly like. But I have completed G7 including some Mozart and Schubert. I am on a journey. Bach will be there eventually, beyond the pair of 2-part inventions I managed along side my grade work.

How do you make the time to practice? Do you enjoy practising?

I am retired. I stood down from my career to focus on music. I have all the time in the world. Any limitation is energy – mental and focus. Had my accident not occurred, and had the pandemic not led governments to close our society and activities, I think I’d be further along. Now I have to find the renewal to restart and reenergise. I fear it won’t be easy.

Certain types of practice I enjoy. I am content to repeat exercises, scales, arpeggios and the many variations required of jazz. I am at my most uncomfortable during the early stages of tackling a new work. Sight reading is poor and I don’t know how to improve it. Coordination is also lacking, especially the left hand and arm. For me, practice is a conundrum. There is always this underlying feeling that one is doing the wrong things, or taking a sub-optimal approach. The clock ticks. Time is running out. At my age, the window of opportunity will eventually close, as certain as night follows day.

If you are taking piano lessons what do you find a) most enjoyable and b) most challenging about your lessons?

Time. Thirty minutes is too short. One hour is OK but I often need more. And even with the time I have available to practice, I don’t feel a weekly lesson is viable or appropriate. I would not have made sufficient progress before ‘next lesson’. So its typically every two weeks (interrupted by the pandemic of course.) As a ‘late returner’ and as I tackle the challenge of transitioning from early advanced to advanced, I value a teacher willing to enter into a discussion of my challenges beyond guidance on phrasing and articulation; to look ahead and be my guide. I feel that a lot of what limits me now is either psychological or in the cortex – biology, the brain slowing down. If I could just ‘hang out’ with a talented pianist for a few hours I feel I could learn a lot. But I am probably being naïve. Mostly its just graft that is required.

Have you taken any piano exams? What is your experience of taking music exams as an adult and what, in your opinion, are the benefits/challenges of doing so?

Yes. I took ABRSM G4 and G5 theory. Sitting in a room with 150 children was certainly an experience! And I have sat both G6 practical and G7 performance. Hated those video things. But I do intend to go further, hopefully quite a bit further. I find paying for others in any context intimidating and have written before about performance anxiety. Why do I subject myself to this? Partly discipline. Partly to measure progress. And partly just to be able to face the daemons. This is also why I joined a piano circle. [The lessons Howard learnt from his piano circle are documented here  and appears as an appendix to his book charting his adventures in music: Note For Note ]

Have you attended any piano courses? What have you gained from the experience?

I have. It was like going back to school. Wonderful. And to be around other pianists of all ages and abilities; inspiring; but also sobering. Summer school is, for me, a good substitute for my ultimate aim: to return to college to study music in some capacity: theory, composition or practical. But as I’ve found, the road is steep to get there and my current progress (and deficit of energy or focus sapped by the pandemic to be frank) is not a good indicator of success. Let’s just call it my ‘unrealistic aspiration’ and leave it there for the time being.

Do you perform? What do you enjoy/dislike about performing?

At the piano circle, yes. It’s a test. I want to play at a level that people enjoy listening. Despite my piano buddies kind words at each of my attempts, I know in my heart that I have achieved beauty on only a few occasions. I have no desire to inflict on anyone (friends or family let alone the ‘public’) an ‘amateurish’ performance (or worse). In many ways I am quite happy playing for myself. But I’d like to think that one day I will be able to genuinely move another human being with a performance of music I treasure … or have composed? Isn’t that the mark of a musician?

I did once write a love song for my wife, and two companion pieces. They were performed at a ‘living room concert’ for a large group of our friends. I played. My song-writing tutor sang. Musically it was a modest achievement; emotionally a roller-coaster. But I loved every minute of it and I believe the audience did also. I hope so.

What advice would you give to other adults who are considering taking up or returning to the piano?

Who am I to give advice, but here goes. Only embark on such a costly expedition if you are clear that it is what you need, and must do. For adult first-timers it is going to take significant dedicated time input over a sustained period. Little of this journey will be easy. Nor will it always be ‘fun’. Look to your teachers to show you the way but recognise that even they, with decades of experience, will not have all the answers you need. Explore. I found it necessary to wallow in a good deal of self-reflection during my time on what I call ‘the escalator’ (you cannot get off). The road ahead will be more than a little rocky. Find your own shock absorbers and escape pods. And whatever you do, try to avoid self-inflicted accidents and pandemics.

If you could play one piece, what would it be?

The second movement (Adagio assai) of the Piano Concerto in G by Maurice Ravel. With orchestra or with second piano acting as orchestra. I then believe I will have learned to play the piano.

N4NfrontcoverHoward Smith is the author of Note for Note, a “Pilgrim’s Progress” for the amateur pianist, charting his own piano journey – the pleasures and the pitfalls, the achievements and “lightbulb moments”. More information here

Howard  Smith (1957-) was born in England and grew up in Kent. An internationally recognised chief technologist and management consultant, he wrote his first computer programs at the age of fourteen before entering university to study physics. His landmark book (2003) Business Process Management: The Third Wave, generated over three hundred articles in the IT industry media, was an Amazon #1 best seller in five categories, reaching the top 200 of all books (including fiction) and was featured in the Harvard Business Review. In 2017, Howard decided to leave the computer industry he loved to pursue a new life in music. His latest book, Note For Note: Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, tells the inspirational story of how he navigated his transition from the bits and bytes of the computer industry to the world of melody, harmony and musical performance.

Howard lives in Surrey, England, with his wife.

If you are an adult amateur pianist and would like to take part in the Piano Notes series, please download the PIANO NOTES adult pianist interview.