One of my earliest happy memories is of teeny tiny toddler me reaching up on tippy tippy toes and absolutely delighting in the results when I managed to reach the piano keys. I don’t know what it was about the piano but it was definitely love at first sight! My mother was quick to recognise my interest and before long I was learning to play. Pity the poor lady for the monster she created as endless rounds of “I am C. Middle C. Left hand, right hand, middle C.” ensued!
Those rounds of practising left and right hand progressed to scales and arpeggios and steadily more complex music. I practised for hour upon hour upon hour. Voluntarily. I’m a great believer that, left to their own devices, children will display their natural inclinations for what kind of career might suit them as adults. Parents, speaking as somebody who doesn’t have children so ultimately has no right to comment? If your child shows particular talent for something they voluntarily practise for hours, and if that something is a good thing? You should probably encourage it.
Never did this hit me more clearly than a random series of link-hops finding me back listening to one of my favourite pieces to play. A favourite, but I drove myself demented over it! I played it obsessively over and over again, always convinced something wasn’t quite right, always seeking that sense of perfection I strove for with every piece.
I haven’t heard it in years. I’ve just listened to about twenty different versions – all professional standard – on Spotify. You know what I just realised? I had long since perfected it. I had long since perfected it and even though I’ve always known it intellectually, deep down I had absolutely no comprehension how good a musician I really was.
There’s a reason I didn’t know. It’s a story for another time. Probably for never, actually. Done is done, gone is gone. What is interesting is what other people don’t know, and that can best be summarised with a variation on Samuel Goldwyn’s “the harder I work, the luckier I get”:
The more you practise, the more naturally gifted you become.
Sure, I had a natural inclination towards playing the piano. Sure, I seem to have – or have developed – a sharply honed ear for sound. But ultimately? After too many years without a piano, when I finally have space for one again, I’m going to be right back to Grade 1 scales and arpeggios! Speak to any form of artist – musician, dancer, writer, or visual artist – and you’ll be surprised at just how much practise goes into being so naturally gifted!
On which, ahem, note (honestly no pun intended!), somebody doing a lovely job of playing the piece in question… complete with supporting comments to the beneficial effect of practise on skill!
