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  • Writer's pictureCandice Choong

From Terror to Lifelong Career


Mention piano lessons and my memories of them were a far from the rosy picture of an enthusiastic teacher-student pair discovering the instrument's mastery together. Reality depicts it to be the weekly grind; an obstacle to my free time, an irritating, plaguing cause to the opportunity costs of other activities. What would I give to escape one painful hour, butt glued to the piano perfecting slurs, staccatos to fulfil the standards established by dead, famous composers. I was either a dextrous attempter to right my articulations and dynamics in songs, or praying fervently for God to cease my torturous repeats of ascents and descents executing scales and arpeggios. I was the student who put up an obedient facade, dancing clandestinely with glee whenever lessons were cancelled - either by her or by my parents who preferred I focus on gearing up for the academic exams. It was this season where piano relegated to a backseat.


Yes, the span of over a decade to achieving my diploma was vividly gruelling and arduous, sometimes even resulting in a full-blown tussle with my teacher, Mrs Tan. My fingers mechanically ran the keys like a broken recorder, practising in parallel to her instruction until the following week where she reviewed my pieces, and if I could pay a moonlighter to complete my theory assignments, the lucky dude would prosper abundantly.


I did it out of dread, propelled by fear - because Mrs Tan would chide me for slackening, and sometimes when her voice travels from the hall through the short tunnel of my home into one particular room, I knew my doom was looming. A couple of times, my nightmare strode out and enquired to know what was wrong. Fingers crossed and a silent rush of more prayers to be spared after she leaves. If God is kind, my penalty involved a light chiding from my father. If the stars misaligned, my fate would be compounded with extra time with the piano.


Why must I practice repeatedly? This is so boring doing the same bars over and over again. Why can't I play from the beginning and settle the problematic parts when I get to it? Isn't there a Chinese adage that a boat naturally cruises straight with the current upon reaching the bridge (船到桥头自然直)? As Mrs Tan explained concepts, my eyes would naughtily steal glances at the clock directly above my piano to note how long left. Otherwise, I would pretend to listen, but am secretly trying to make sense of the ongoings behind my back reflected on the piano's glossy sheen. They would suddenly appear more interesting than songs from musicals, pop pieces, exam repertoire and whatever else that was standing on my fallboard, and easily defeat the mundane voice of my teacher.


Indeed, there needs no further telling how much abhorrence I exuded for piano and my weekly lessons. The journey was certainly no easy feat, and there were occasions I nearly succumbed to the temptation of throwing in the towel.


So on the day I received my diploma certificate with a score of 91/100, and a written praise from the examiner that he "enjoyed your performance" (quote), I began to turn and re-evaluate all that Mrs Tan had done. She had a perfectly clear rationale embedded in each piece of advice purveyed, and of course, being ahead of me, she undoubtedly had a vision that was many miles ahead of my short-sighted one.


The road of being a student learning piano was not exactly all joyful. However, there were of course sweet moments where I got to perform some of the pieces I really liked. My younger self tut-tutted at the sheer mountain of music books Mrs Tan piled on apart from the usual exam pieces and classical collection - musical compositions notably by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Disney, K-Pop, Chinese Pop, Christmas, etc.


When I was requested to use my piano competencies to serve for my church's worship sessions, she encouraged me to take it up. I was horrified. I was heavily reliant on proper scores for all my songs and would be crippled by those papers guitarists find familiarity in. Joining the worship team meant having to decipher lyrics and chords, and play without structured notation. How is that possible for me to delve into this unknown?


Little did I know some 15 years later, I actually enjoy playing with fake sheets. I had no clue I was assimilating into the arena of improvisation and tapping onto the use of mental play, an important critical aspect of all musicians. Today, I use them as a platform to work my creative brain and relish in the adrenaline rush of quick melodic compositions in my head. Through this process, I developed and maintain perfect pitch, a skill that I am particularly proud of.


The plethora of songs I imbibed also heightened my breadth of music, and enhanced my appreciation for other aspects apart from classical.


The amagalmation of these propagated my passion to make music my lifelong career.


On hindsight, with greater maturity than the past, I am extremely grateful and thankful for everything she had done.


She taught me that piano had a purpose that superseded good exam scores. It was about holistic education and exposure to a wide genre of music, about competent performance-ship. It encompassed inculcating in students permanent independence and passion such that they too could pursue far more themselves and shine brighter then the days with their teacher.


Such is the tradition I will continue.

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