Showing posts with label Students. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Students. Show all posts

Thursday, November 27, 2014

The making of a pianist III - change of piano teacher

Having learnt piano from Ms. Alice for 2 years, Zhuzhu and I have adapted to her teaching style and language (music jargons) pretty well, which had encouraged me to enroll Niuniu to her class early this summer.  Although Niuniu told me that he really wanted to play guitar and his amateur guitar player father had also gone all over town to buy him one of those fancy instrument, I tactfully convinced him to give piano a try before he moved on to his beloved guitar.  "You can always learn to play guitar later when you get older." I said and left it at that.

No no, I did that not because I was a tiger Mom who makes decision based on my own convenience, but more importantly because I noted that Niuniu had shown stronger inclination for piano than his sister as evidenced by the fact that it was he, instead of she, that sat at the piano bench at HER lessons in those earlier days.  He was only 1 year and 2 months old then.  He repeated that again 2 years later at her first audition!!!

Either he developed some fears of piano because of those struggles between his sister and me over the years, or he likes guitar more because he assumed that his daddy would take him to his lessons...as I said before, my kids love their daddy much more than they love me!

Regardless, I am the driver so I trusted the mother's instinct.

I had chosen this summer to start his piano lessons as I knew that Ms. Alice likes to start new students during the summer semester as it usually has fewer students take summer classes.

On the way to his first lesson, I used our driving time to get Niuniu a head start.

"Niuniu, are you excited or nervous to start your new lesson today?"

"I don't even like piano.  I like guitar."

"But daddy could not find a guitar teacher for you.  Why do you start with piano first and see whether you like it or not."

"Ok."

He fell in silence and I left him alone to get himself prepared.

Few minutes later, we arrived Ms. Alice's new studio.  There we were, the 3 of us, Zhuzhu, Niuniu, and I, sitting in front of Ms. Alice's grand steinway.  His first lesson started in more or less the same as the one that Zhuzhu had experienced 2 years ago, except that he was clearly more knowledgeable about the instrument.

His first lesson lasted about 25 minutes and the teacher was quite happy about his willingness to follow directions and commented at end of it, "He was very corporative."

The next few lessons he continued to show his willingness to follow the teacher's instructions.  He was focused and progressed so well that he kept receiving complements.  Such positive feedback reminded me of the happy times when Zhuzhu started her piano learning 2 years ago.

Just like everything else in life, good things can rarely last for long.

Right before Niuniu completed his first 2 variations of Twinkle and Zhuzhu finished her first song in Suziki Book II, we had to stop their summer lessons.

We are heading back to China for a 3 week vacation.

What's worse was that those summer lessons are the last ones that we have had with Ms. Alice:

"I have decided to leave (the city) next month.  It came very sudden.  I wouldn't have moved the studio location at all if had I known even a month earlier."

That reminded me the day when her precious grand steinway was moved out of the old studio into a big U-Hall truck, we happened passing by.  Strangely seeing the move triggered a bit of sadness, but that was nothing compared to what I am about to tell you.

"Some of you may have already known that I've been considering returning to college piano and music teaching in the last 2 years." She continued.  

No, I had not seen this coming at all!  

Alright, if I think about it for a second, I should NOT have found the news totally unexpected:

- Teaching college musicians was her previous job;
- She is a great soloist who has to go around the world to perform;
- She holds a Ph.D. and published a book about Music;
- Her solo recital video has still not been taken out of the University website after years of her resignation;
- She is one of the Steinway artists.
...
...

I sort of knew that we were too lucky to have a piano teacher of her caliber, but never prepared to lose her anytime soon.  It's embarrassing to admit that I am still guided by the Pleasure Principle at age of 52!

Her email was long and apologetic.  But I was so sad that I had not left where I was.  Instead of reading the email from my real computer, I was sitting on the stairs with my little smart phone, typing, erasing, typing more, erasing more, and repeating the whole process until I finally came up with the following:

"This is sad and happy news all in the same time.  It's great to teach in college but on the other hand, working with kids can be quite rewarding.  I can see your dilemma.  We are so lucky to have you for the last 2 years and I am also very glad that we at least had some summer lessons - got the most out of you, so to speak.  As a teacher myself, I know good teachers don't come around very often and we sure will miss you.  Please don't hesitate to recommend a good teacher to Zhuzhu and Niuniu as they are in need to be in good hands like yours."

Clearly I was trying desperately to minimize the negative impact on the kids.  I was trying to move on and wishing for her changing her minds, all in the same time.

Our soon to be ex-piano teacher immediately followed up by asking the type of teacher I would like to have for the kids.

"... I believe a bit tough teacher who has clear demands and goals like you should be a good fit for them."  I replied instantly.  

"Tough" would not be the words that I use to describe her.  Her strictness, which reflected only by the facts that she articulates clearly her demands and that she does not praise her students when they had not met her demands, led most of her students and parents to call her that.  She actually is not nearly as tough as any of the teachers with whom I grew up in China 40 years ago!  She is much gentler, sweeter, and more patient than those true tigers in my life!

The next 4 weeks after our email exchanges, I immersed myself to the new full time job - a "Travel Guide" and a mother of 2 super energetic kids, during which I almost completely forgot about piano.  When we finally got back to the state, the Fall semester started already.  Poor Niuniu did not even get the chance to his kindergartens' orientation!

On the ride to school, I customarily popped the Suzuki Piano book II CD to the car player, Zhuzhu sighed:  "I am so sad that Ms. Alice is not my teacher anymore.  I'd only just started to understand her."  Niuniu then followed, "Yea, I liked Ms. Alice too.  She is very patient."

Their conversations made me realized that I had not found them a Ms. Alice's replacement yet!

Now what was the teacher that Ms. Alice recommended to us again?
Why has not she sent me the teacher's contact info?
Did she forget about us?
Of course, she could not remember us - she was heavily pregnant before we left her early this summer; she needed to arrange moving company in the hot summer; she also needed to teach few summer students...

But she can't be forgetting us.

She is the most caring and responsible teacher in the whole wide world that I've known;
She loves Zhuzhu and Niuniu as much as she loves her own child;
and She would not have sent them to any other teachers that she does not personally trust...

Few cycles of these thoughts later, I concluded that she must have done something for us but somehow we messed it up.  In this case, I was too shameful to contact Ms. Alice directly.  So as soon as I had arrived the office, I frantically looked for Ms. Alice's email.  I found her emails but they have NO NEW TEACHER'S INFORMATION!

Then I called few mothers whose children were also Ms. Alice's students, they told me that their kids had already started their fall lessons with their "matched" new piano teachers and yes, from what they told me, Ms. Alice has already "dispatched" all her students to different new teachers in town.  She did so very carefully, because she matched the age, level of their skills, and even personalities.

But why couldn't I find our new teacher?

Out of desperation, I called a mother who had left Ms. Alice for another teacher one semester ago expecting that teacher to accept Zhuzhu and Niuniu - one should always have a backup plan, right?!

"Wait a minute, haven't you enrolled your kids with Ms. Elena yet?"  She asked.

"What, who is Ms. Elena?"  Her question lost me.

"Isn't she the teacher that Ms. Alice recommended to your kids?"  She questioned again.

"How come you knew our kids teacher yet I don't?"  I had a hope!

"Oh, Willie's Mom told me that Ms. Alice recommended the same teacher to Willie and your kids." She explained.  "Because she saw you as one of the three recipients in the same email that Ms. Alice sent to her."  She added.

Wait, who the hell was Willie?  Has he been in the same planet as Zhuzhu during the last few semesters?

She must have read my mind, because what she told me next was, "Oh, I guess you don't know Willie.  He is our neighbor.  He is like your son only had few lessons with Ms. Alice this summer, but his older son has studied piano with Ms. Alice for years."

What she said finally made some sense to me, except I still did not know Willie, nor his Mom, even though the Mom and I might have had attended several recitals, studio classes together.

"When that email was sent out, do you know?"  I tried to get as much information as possible from her.

In my defense, I was in China with only a cell phone most of the times in the last month.

"Quite a while ago" was as close as what she could offer and then she commented, "I thought you must have contacted Ms. Elena long ago because I was told that her lessons were very difficult to get in."

That, my friends, almost sent me into a heart attack!

I eventually reread all the emails from Ms. Alice from the computer in my office.  With the help of a huge screen, I finally discovered the new teacher's contact information at the END of one email that our beloved Ms. Alice sent to me and 2 other mothers on July 13, exactly the same day at which we were flying from Shanghai to Nanning!

And the same email was cc'ed to Ms. Elena!  So I did have her contact info!  Boy oh boy!

What's killed me was the email immediately following this one.

Because this second email was from Ms. Alice to me, specially and alone, in which she generously praised Zhuzhu, Niuniu, even me and urged us to get in contact Ms. Elena ASAP.  She ends the email by, "Honestly I was really afraid that she would not have any opening(s), because if she didn't, I wouldn't know where else to refer Mia and Remy to!  Not many teachers are trained in Suzuki, you know, and to find a Suzuki/traditional combined teacher is even harder."

How in the world that I have missed such important message, am I really qualified to be a tiger mother?!

Needless to say, I did not waste another second to come up with the most sincere begging letter to Ms. Elena.  Exactly 27 minutes later, I received her response and she offered us an audition next afternoon!

The rest is just happily ever after for all of us.

------------------------
Now you must have noticed that I am posting this on the Thanksgiving Day.  Words are inadequate to express my gratitude to Ms. Alice for her enlightening our kids about music and for her finding us Ms. Elena


Saturday, May 18, 2013

Let's go skiing!


Alright, I know ski season is out for this year, but the following post took me a whole two month from the start to a working progress - yes, I do come back to edit my published posts often.  They are never good enough, you see. 
______________
I was born a learner, as if I have not emphasized enough here already.  I mean I can acquire knowledge and skills pretty fast, especially when I have someone to show me how.  Unfortunately, I was born in China 50 years ago, at a time when our parents could hardly satisfy the fast growing physical body of their children with sufficient food, let alone meet the rapid developing innate curiosity of them with special provisional tools!  As a little girl, I had to teach myself how to dance, play Chinese violin (Er Hu 二胡), blow bamboo flute (Di Zi and Xiao), fondle ancient form of piano (Jiao ta qin, 脚踏琴), even sing Beijing opera.  I didn't want "missing out".  As you can imagine, my talent could only take me far enough to become an amateur for just about everything I tried to be.

I have suffered from under-developed syndrome (UDS).  What, you have not heard of UDS before?  I am not surprised because I've just coined it to describe us new Chinese immigrants.  Look around you, whenever you meet Chinese, ask them why they want to come to America?  I bet the answer is all the same: we did not have the opportunity to fully develop ourselves in China.

True, we Chinese come here to fulfill our childhood dreams, to explore, and to get ahead.

Believe or not, we Chinese and Americans even share the same dreams: we are all competitive and happy to get ahead.  But we are told to be modest by our Chinese parents and teachers - we can be bunch of tigers who sleep with an eye open and then eat you alive when your guard is down, ha ha ha -  joke aside, the truth is we grew up being taught that famous singers, movie stars, and athletes were not real people, they were icons who were born this way, which discouraged us to even try to become one of them early on.

Then I got lucky.  I came to the U.S. to make myself a perfect educator.  I have enjoyed having the land of opportunity so far and most importantly, I have learnt a saying "practice makes it perfect", which has shaken my self-image and the figure of my childhood heroes profoundly.  I now believe that I can learn just about anything and everything, even the seemingly impossible ski, without much of talent.  All I need is to keep on practicing.  So, when the first opportunity came along, I jumped into it.

In 2002, I was sent to a Keystone meeting.  Such meetings usually start at 7:30 am, stop at 9:30 am, then resume at 4 pm, and end at 9 pm each day for about a week long - totally are designed for ski lovers - that, my friend, provided me a golden opportunity to learn how to ski.

For about $100, I bought my first and only ski lesson pass on the first day of the meeting.  It went extremely well considering that my legs were still functioning after the lesson, which encouraged me to continue renting the ski boots and skis to get on the slope the next day and the day after.  After a few days of practice on my own, I learned how to turn, stop, and go downhill in a reasonable speed.

I was so excited that I could not wait to report to Fabrice on the phone to make him jealous of me for having fun outside the slave shop in which we were both working.  I totally bragged about my progress to trick him into believing that I had mastered those skills necessary to go ski with him - he'd started his first ski trip on the Alps as a teenager and not been too enthusiastic to take me to ski with him just yet.

And he ignored what I was reporting as he knew better me than himself, "Bend your knee, pressing the front of the boot so that you can put your body weight on the shin.  Face downhill, lean forward, put your skis parallel to each others..."  Fabrice was giving me instructions constantly over a cell phone that dropped signals frequently on the mountain.

I tried to transform his instructions into my actions except the "face downhill" - I rather skid with eyes closed!

He then sensed that I was unable to faithfully follow his instructions delivered in a cell phone.  On the 4th day, he joined me on the ski slope.  He had just stolen me from John at the time thus was quite eager to show me that he was worth of my love.  The price of a last minute plane ticket served the purpose just about right.  

When he found me on a slope where I had my ski lessons struggling with my turns and stops, he laughed his ass off.

"What, you spent all these days "skiing" on a bunny hill?!"  He made fun of me when he was catching his breath.

"Why not?  Look what I can do now?"  I was proudly showing him my beautiful "narrow" stance on the skis, I could feel that my feet in the boots directing where I was going, I could glide in a wedge by tilting my skis, I could easily stop with a wedge, I could even do the zig-zag... while I was showing off my newly acquired techniques, I heard,

"You are not skiing." he commented, "Let's go to the top of the mountain."

Completely ignored my fears, he went ahead to get us two lift tickets.  The whole time sitting beside Fabrice on a ski lift chair, I cursed to make sure that that man knew with whom he was dealing.  "I am afraid of heights and I cannot get up there!"  I screamed.  "Close your eyes, then."  He answered and then put down the metal bar in front of me to fool me into having some kind of protection.  In fact, I even need extra oxygen than many normal people to feel alive because I was anemic as a child and have grown to be extremely sensitive to high altitude where oxygen is scarce as an adult .  "I feel dizzy.  I have a severe motion sickness, you know?!"  He did not show me any sympathy at all at that time, maybe because he had never met anyone with this condition so severely - he then learned the lesson two years following our first ski trip in Hawaii watching me dying on the deck of our whale watching/snorkel ship later in 2004 during our honeymoon.

His confidence and easiness of sitting on the chair did calm me down a bit.  Seeing me quiet down, he started to go over the techniques to prepare me properly so that I could get off the lift.  I listened to him very carefully like a nervous school girl.  At the end of our ride, I did exactly as I was told: pointed the front end of the skis to the sky, let the snow/icy ground to touch the back end of the skis, which naturally put me standing straight on the skis.  A victory!  I was proud.

"Now follow me."  As soon as he got our boots tightened, he commanded, before I could properly respond, he skied down, way down.

If you skied once or twice in your life, you know that everyone is usually trying his/her best to get out of other skiers' way, particularly at the end of a lift.  I, like many beginners on their first try, could not abide by this common law.  I was busy to keep my balance in the mean time and to call the man, expecting him to walk back up to me.

What I did not know was that the area at very the top of the mountain is usually shared by skiers of all levels, thus, it is not too steep.  Fabrice failed to explain this simple fact to me, which resulted in his standing at the bottom of the slope, turning into a popsicle!  Had suspected my intention of staying at the top of the mountain for the rest of my life, he started to dance on his skis (yes, one can do that!) to seduce me to move on.  I watched him dance and felt tons of skiers flying by me, one after another, for a long while... Eventually, I had gathered all my courage, positioned my skis to form a upside down V, and skied straight down toward Fabrice.

As soon as I reached his location, he skied away from me.  What the hell, I was going to take a break!  "Stop, I could not move my legs!"  I yelled to the back of the man, but he was gone.  He could not hear me anymore.  Boy, this teacher of mine was pushy.  When I caught him again, he said seriously, "You have to move fast here.  It's too cold and you could catch cold."

Too cold, I was sweating, but why his lips were turning grey and body was shivering?!

What I did not know at that time also was that a green trail from the top of a mountain is usually the longest run because it surrounds those steeper and shorter blue and black runs.  "If we keep on stopping, we would need a whole day to finish a run!"  He said and asked me to ski on the long, narrow, and curvy tracks behind him.  What he did not know was that I needed a lot of energy to balance myself on those slippery skis and had no confidence nor ability to follow his marks precisely.  Plus, it was the first time in real life that I had someone "belonging to me" who could ski so effortlessly.  I was charmed by his elegant ski posture.  I was lost in awe watching his "performance" ahead...

... "So, move!"  He would command annoyingly.  But when he was not looking, I would just skip the curves to avoid being left too far behind, and try to ignore his urges on bending my knees, FACING DOWN HILL - I constantly leaned backward, as directed by my instincts.  When he told me to make turns with the leading ski tip pointing downhill, I would point it to the side to turn my body with my butt... Eventually though, he understood to give the old dog more time to learn new skills, so he went ahead to ski away from me at those divergent runs and then met me at the next convergent points to show me few more tricks.  Often he would find me on the same spot of the slope at this next run.  Whenever he skied close to me, he would slow down to demonstrate how to easily zig zag to get downhill.  This technique could change a steep run into a green slope.  He would also show me how to shift body weight from the center to one leg so that the other leg could move the ski close and parallel to the weight bearing one.  Finally, he tirelessly emphasized not to face sideways, even though when I was skiing in a zig zag pattern.  "Look downhill and face the bottom of the slope." he says this each and every time I am starting my runs!

(In a retrospect, I now cannot understand why I needed any of those breaks in the middle of a green run.)

After few green runs, Fabrice optimistically took me to blue slopes.  "You can ski anywhere since you can make turns and stops now."  Seeing me still in doubt, he insisted, "You have to have some speed to turn.  Green slopes do not help you with that."  He was trying to get me out of my comfort zone.  

Having witnessed how natural and easy that he conquered those scary snow bumps, I became a bit confident myself.  So, I sucked it up.

Guess what happened next?

I completely lost control.  The blue trails were much narrower than those green ones and the skis just took my body straight down.  "Control your speed, slow down, make a turn, turn, turn now.  No no no, don't go toward the tree, not the tree..."  Fabrice was shouting beside and then behind me, bang!!!  I fell right onto a tree.  

It did not take long for me to remove my skis.  Down I walked in my boots!  

Then I spent the rest of my first blue run watching Fabrice who disappeared into and then reappeared out of woods.  He loves to get in between trees himself, but tells others not to do the same, what kind of example that he gives to his students!  

With the help of my personal coach and continued practice, my ski skill has improved over the years, but not at the same level as his though - we late starters can never catch up with those early ones, but as my skill improves, he now at least is willing to take me with him everywhere on high mountains.  We now often take lifts together up to the top and ski a few easy runs together at beginning of each day and then we move on to our separate lives - he challenges himself with black diamond and bumpy slopes whereas I enjoy myself on blue/red even green zones.  We meet at our common zones for lunch and at the end of the day.  It is in this manner that he and I have explored the following ski resorts so far:

Whistler (Fabrice went by himself because my visa to Canada did not arrive on time!)
Taos (Fabrice went alone)
Silverton (Fabrice went alone)
Davos (Fabrice went alone)
Santa Fe (I went alone)
Shawnee
... (I know that I have left out of a few hard-to-access but great resorts in both Utah and CO - couldn't remember their names.)

Here is how I skied in March 2005 (I now ski way faster and more elegant than then.  But I have nothing to show you here because my movie maker now gets his hands full with his new students.  Our 6 year old Zhuzhu and 4 year old Niuniu are catching up their Mommy in a light speed!  Since you have read this far, you are rewarded for your patience with a family ski video that I took in the end of this post).

But I must admit that it has become unaffordable for our expanding family of 4 to ski everywhere in the world now.  So, we are practically Colorado residents.  We have been to Denver airport so often that the kids truly believe that Santa lives in Colorado instead of the North Pole!

This is a long introduction to tell you stories of our trip to CO in the week of Zhuzhu's Spring Break.  We stayed in a "historical" town Carbondale, skied on the Snowmass in the day, and soaked ourselves in the Glenwood hot springs in the night.  The trip was sensational and the scenery of the alpine mountains was breathtaking (okay, it is not the Alps, but still!), which reminded me some of those sweet moments that Fabrice and I shared years ago*.  We had so much fun together as a family.  I am afraid now that this first official spring break has raised the bar for their future ones!  Zhuzhu has already become a skillful skier.  She ditched her little brother in the last 2 days to follow her amateur mommy everywhere in high mountains.  Niuniu is still at his weaning days with the daddy, although I must say that the boy learns so fast that I can see that his day of surpassing his sister is now countable with fingers.  Look what he can do already now!
___________
* Fabrice and I both skied in Snowmass mountain in 2004 at our annual conference.  That was a highly productive meeting both professionally and personally.  We both received some prestigious awards in our fields and few job interview invitations.  We both also took home an Alpine ski racing trophies.  Ironically, he and I both won the third place.  How did I pull that off, you say?  If I tell you, you must die.  Nay, the truth is that there were exactly a total of 3 women participated in the "intermediate woman skiers" race.  But hey a trophy is a trophy!  In this male-dominated scientific community, Fabrice competed with a bunch of young Europeans and he mistakenly identified himself as "advanced skier" thus...the well-deserved third place!!!