Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

[SteveHopwood]

Joel pitched up this afternoon for a rehearsal for his G5 Sax exam. One of his pieces is, "The Pink Panther." This is a piece originally composed by Henry Mancini for the 1963 comedy starring Peter Sellers. It has been arranged since for many instruments and piano accompaniment.

The piano part is not hard to play. The middle part is ridiculously hard to read until I have worked out what to play. I last played this piece about 15 years ago when it was at the height of a brief period of popularity. It has since lapsed into entirely-justified obscurity.

I enjoy the company of a small group of like-minded music teachers: Angie on woodwind; Paul on guitar; Errol on drums.

We tend to spoil the institutions/individuals we come into contact with. They assume that all other so-called, "professionals" are as good as we are. They are not. We are frequently called in to clean up the mess left behind by the useless, hopeless, helpless and daft.

Joel's mum contacted me about accompanying Joel earlier in the week. Joel and I have played together before. Mum explained that she had a pianist lined up, but that she was unable to fulfil the engagement.

So I was second best? Never mind. I know the feeling.

First piece: Joel all over the place. The rhythm he played often clashed with the printed rhythm. I know this piece very well and stuck to him like glue. I gave a masterclass of keeping up with a player with no sense of rhythm. Hehe. You guys think I am reasonably good at coding? You should hear me in my day job as a pianist, keeping up with an amateur soloist with no sense of rhythm.

I suggested to Joel that he listen to the CD of the pieces a few times and see if he could correct some of his rhythm misreadings. I pointed out a few incorrect entries; these were easily corrected. The rest is up to him.

Then came The Sodding Pink Panther. We played it a few times. Each time, I came closer to playing something resembling the score in the middle section. Not accurate - just coming closer.

There is only so much time that a 14 year old boy can play the Sax to allow his useless accompanist to come close to learning to play the accompaniment before turning an interesting colour and falling over, so I called a halt. "Sorry I have been a bit useless, Joel. I will learn the piano part in time for our next meeting, I promise. You have been brilliant in dealing with me."

I giggled and said to both of them, "Now you know how vital it is to have a good accompanist. You just heard what a bad one does to a performance."

A clearly discomfited mum faced by my transparent honesty shuffled uncomfortably and muttered, "You think you are bad. You should have heard the character we just tried." I am guessing that it is really cheap.

And paid up willingly. Once paid, I am generous with my time. Actually, I am generous with my time even before being paid; I have yet to be let down. The more time the kids and I spend rehearsing, the happier we are going into the exam together. Forex trading means I do not need 100 pupils a week occupying every second of my time. This frees up quite a lot of time to devote to kids needing me to accompany their exams. Good for Forex.

[SteveHopwood]

A couple of stories for you from today. I was stood at the photocopier when Nikki approached me early for her lesson - and another potentially 10 attempts at doing a recording. You should see this child, you really should. She is utterly gorgeous. But then, when are they not?

We walked along the corridor back to my teaching room and Nikki explained, "I decided to conquer my recording fear and so spent Sunday recording myself until I got it right. It took 24 attempts before I got it right."

We laughed about it, but 24 attempts? Is that determination, or what? Most kids would have given up after 5. Of course, she may have been exaggerating for effect, but read my earlier posts about her. I am happy to bet that she was not exaggerating.

20 minutes later, we had one acceptable and one excellent take, "in the can". Determination rewarded. Fantastic to see it happen to a cute 15 year old. Read up to http://www.stevehopwoodforex.com/phpBB3 ... 61#p164761 if this means nothing to you in the context of Nikki.

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Another about Our Star Dominic:

Last period on Tuesday is a class hated by both Dommy and Lauren. These two have their unchangeable piano lesson times during this class - a frequent occurrence for kids of this age so they do not miss parts of a more important lesson. It seems it is not just me who and them who regard this as rubbish.

Dommy finished his lesson with me, so I sent him back to his class and awaited Lauren.

Now, the distance between room 149 where I was teaching and the next set of doors takes about 20 seconds to cover at a relaxed and slow pace. A couple of minutes elapsed and there was no sign of Lauren. I needed the loo and so decided on a, "comfort break". So I exited room 149, to be faced by Dommy, just passing through the next set of doors.

Intrigued, I followed and watched. Dommy crossed the long corridor and headed for the doors diagonally on his right - v-e-r-y-s-l-o-w-l-y. Any slower and he would have been moving backwards.

At the exact moment that Lauren skipped down the stairs immediately to my left.
We stood and watched Dommy. "Ehup Lauren," I said, "I was going to the loo but can wait. Nothing urgent."

We walked back up the corridor. "Lauren," I asked, "you and Dommy are in the same class?"

"Yes."

"So why did you just skip down the stairs whilst Dommy is making his way v-e-r-y-s-l-o-w-l-y along that corridor?"

Lauren gave me that pitying look that all kids reserve for adults who are clearly morons and replied, "You remember that I was consistently turning up for my lesson just before the final bell went and you had to rearrange a lesson for me?"

"Yes."

Came the wonderful coup-de-gras, "I always assumed it was time for my piano lesson when Dominic returned to our class. I did not know just how long a route he could take back to it and how slowly he could move. Sorry."

"Not to worry sweetheart. You were not to know."

Now, I should. "Dob him in" but I am not going to. I skived every single lesson he is skiving from the same age. This seriously bright young man will one day be a consultant surgeon saving lives every day. I am not going to put a single impediment in his way.

Just enjoy his mischief, ok? Because mischief is all it is. In other parts of the UK, kids his age are carrying knives and stabbing each other. I am proud to be associated with the mischief of the likes of Dommy.

[SteveHopwood]

Nearly there with Nikki.

We tried for a recording of the duet that will fulfil her ensemble requirement. We only had the usual 20 minute lesson time.

Three attempts went south late on.

The fourth attempt was faultless. Musical. Accurate. Flexible. Everything.

Right up until she missed out the last bar and finished before me.

Hey ho. Next week is another week.

[SteveHopwood]

I had another rehearsal with the G5 sax player today. I could play, "Pink Panther" so it was much better. I asked, "Doesn't it make a huge difference when your pianist can play his part?" Mum was sat behind me and I heard her giggle.

I also give the kids some practise for the Aural Tests section of the exam. One question involves trying to fit a piece being played to them within a historical period. In this context, a 20th century music period will either be in jazz style or highly discordant.

There is an example in the samples book of an unreadable piece by Prokofiev - you will understand what I mean only if you are a reasonably proficient pianist who has played his stuff. If not, then just think, "nasty noises". I said, "Here is an example of an unreadable piece of 20th century piano music," and played a loose approximation of the actual notes.

"Of course, I cannot actually play it, so what you heard was only a vague interpretation of what is written" quoth I.

Another giggle from behind me,"I love your total honesty Steve. It is so funny."

Always good to make people laugh.

[SteveHopwood]

Everybody loves a laugh at my expense, so here is yet another one.

I drove to a primary school for a rehearsal with two 9 year olds for their grade 1 Clarinet exam, in the presence of their WW teacher, Angie.

I have explained to Angie many times in the past that, whilst the WW parts might be simple enough for beginner players, the piano parts can often catch me out and I can find myself having to learn them. I am not entirely sure that she believed me. Today, all four of us were together for the entire time, so Angie got to experience what I mean.

Thingy is, composers have learned to arrange beginner pieces for WW and piano so as to give the pianist wonderfully imaginative parts to play - makes for a much better spectacle than the skill of the young instrumentalist calls for. This does not overshadow the young player - it adds some sparkle to what would otherwise be something pretty dull.

These two turned out to be the best 9 year olds I have accompanied since meeting The Twins. They had one piece in common - "Little Brown Jug", a well known song.

These two little dabs played the piece at rocket speed. The piano part is so wacky that I could not cope with sight-reading it at that speed. I said to Angie, "You see what I mean about some piano parts now?" "Yes" she replied, through tears of mirth.

These practise sessions follow a well-trodden path: play through the pieces c. 4 times each (two pieces); an introduction to the, "Ear tests" section of the exam; a final play through the pieces. Repeated two or three times, this process leads to confident kids going into the exam.

So, by about play through, "Little Brown Jug" for the ninth time, I was making sense of it.

Still got a few chords to sort out, mind.

Here is a thought to really tickle you. Given the unimaginably (to the kids) vast gulf in between what they can do at G1 and what I can do given the ridiculously difficult piano repertoire that I have performed over my career consider this: relatively speaking, I am going to have spent more time learning their accompaniment than they have spent preparing for this exam.

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One of The Twins is Emily. If unfamiliar with The Twins, then read this thread through from the beginning. It offers many laughs and introduces you to many wonderful young people.

Em came for a rehearsal for her G6 Flute tonight. We opened the door at the end and Tabby flew in.

Tabby has this lovely thingy that he does when he wants feeding. Scratch him on the top of his head and he stands upright on his hind paws. He only performs when hungry and Using Charm to get his way. Em is a cat lover. Tabby performed tonight. Em was in transports of delight. Em is now a cute 17 year old and I will stop at nothing to watch her in transports of delight. The two of them in concert was a joy to behold.

And following Tabby's full-on performance yes, I fed him.

[SteveHopwood]

A follow up to our latest Dommy story. Starting with me and exchanging sentence by sentence:

"Dommy. You have nothing to fear from what I am about to say to you. Best if you do not respond at all."

<gulp>

"I am talking about the v-e-r-y-l-o-n-g-t-i-m-e it takes you to get from the end our our lesson to the class that you have just missed - just in time for the final bell to go."

<panic stricken face unable to stop itself from commenting> "Someone knows?"

"Yes. Me. Here is the thingy. I totally understand you. I am not going to dob you in. I am simply checking up on this. You are dawdling along at reverse speed and spot another member of staff...."

<.... interrupts.... Panic stricken face clears and mouth immediately intones, "I instantly start walking quickly and purposefully. I am not an idiot." Clearly learning my linguistics. I call him an idiot every lesson.

Now, I know that I should report him. Here is why I do not. This is what I am hoping for long-term. Dommy will one day be in my position except that his will be far more exalted than mine. He will be faced by an outrageously talented/intelligent/both student in a similar position to his. He will think back, recognise this student's potential and will let said student off just as I have Dommy.

No idea whether it will happen. I just hope so.

Besides, where would we glean so much entertainment were the school to stop Dommy having piano lessons.

[SteveHopwood]

I did a catch-up afternoon in school today, to make up for one I lacked the energy to do during the week of the recent musical. Their usual lesson is tomorrow.

Now, cute as the kids are at this school, they are useless at coping with change. The afternoon was largely a waste of time. They usually are, but I have done my bit and offered the lessons available.

One pupil turned up and this was our promising new Gracie.

A clearly apprehensive Gracie announced, "I have practised half an hour each night but still an not sure I have got everything right."

Hells Bells, at least this child turned up. I have some reassurance work cut out for me in the longer term.

"Not to worry sweetheart. I am sure you have done your best." Thinking back to those two little dabs a couple of days ago who reduced me to helplessness I added, "You are allowed to make mistakes. Really you are. I make them all the time."

Gracie played. I encouraged her at every turn. She made mistakes. I reiterated that it did not matter. She did well. Honestly. Truly. You know that if playing the piano were easy, then everyone would do it.

Gracie was not happy with her playing. Kids with brains the size and power of the sun can find it hard to accept that an activity that is part physical is not easy to master. I have an uphill struggle with this little girl. I will tell her tomorrow, about the little dabs from a couple of days ago. All I can do is hope to convince her that it is OK to be a fallible human.

Either side of teaching Gracie, I had a lot of time to kill and so wandered up and down the corridor doing thingies that needed doing but at Dominic speed.

Next to my now-large teaching room is the drama studio, from which huge amounts of noise and laughter normally emerge. In a bad mood, it is worth my while just sitting outside it for a few minutes in order to revive my spirits. The drama teacher is the same larger-than-life personality who produces the annual musical and drives the rest of us nuts. The kids adore her.

Said drama room was remarkably quiet today. I walked out of my room to go to the photocopier to be met by a 14/ish year old stood alone.

"Ehup sweetheart. You OK" I asked?

"Yes sir. I have been sent outside. I laughed. We have a cover teacher. She hates me. She saw me laughing and sent me outside."

What I thought was, "Yep. Probably because you are an irritating pain in the arse." There cannot be too much wrong with a teen of this age who accepts such a sanction without kicking off big time so what I replied with was, "Bad luck Angel. I am sure she will let you back in soon" and wandered off.

On my way back, I found two miscreants outside in the corridor, including the original. So I sad to miscreant no two, "Sent outside for laughing?" Came the reply, "No sir. I was talking. We were supposed to be being quiet."

Now, I know I should be stern under these circumstances, but these two kids had no idea whom I was and yet had freely admitted their crimes. Exclusion is a painful thing so I smiled and said to them instead, "At least you both have someone to talk to. There are far worse things than being sent out of a class. Perhaps be a little less noisy less time?"

Their chorus of, "Yes sir" was about as sincere as would a promise by me to be gentle with SHF dimwits, but it was very sweet.

Then later, the bell had gone and another class had been ushered into the music room next to where I was teaching. I wandered up the corridor again to be met by two cute 11 year olds. Ok, so they might be 12, but who cares at this stage?

We are describing, "We are talking the possibility of dying of cute" here, as I have described before.

"Ehup girls. You OK?" I intoned.

"We have been sent out of the class" one of them replied. Not cheeky; just matter of fact and a tribute to the school's policy of quiet discipline - albeit unrelenting. These girls were not scared of me. I was happy about that. Despite my joking about the lack of trembling and awe in my presence, I do not really want children exhibiting these behaviours.

Now, I happen to know that the teacher involved is not A Monster, so I was intrigued. I would have been prepared to bet the house on these two little girls not being the epitome of evil.

"Why?" I enquired.

Pupils are expected to walk into their classrooms quietly and without fuss. A lesson that starts quietly has a chance of continuing quietly.

Replied one little girl, "We walked into class holding hands because we are best friends, and swinging them." Any parent reading this can imagine the scene. "Then I fell over her foot and we collapsed. So we got sent outside for being disruptive."

I looked out a few minutes later and they had been taken back into the fold.

Happy times.

[SteveHopwood]

Mostly my experiences with kids are happy. Occasionally, they make me want to beat my brains out with frustration.

Truth to tell, I am deeply angry tonight. Latest statistics from the NHS England show that an estimated one in nine kids suffer from mental health disorders. One in nine? That means that three kids in a 'normal' class of 27 will be suffering from some kind of mental health problem. No bloody wonder.

Take Gracie. I did a, "Catch up" afternoon yesterday, from an afternoon I had to cancel during show week, and 11 year old Gracie was one of my victims. I love these catch up sessions, as I get to see the kids twice and so am able to give them a decent amount of teaching time.

Gracie has a brain the size of Jupiter. She is a joy to teach.

Come the end of G's catch-up yesterday she said, "I will try to practise tonight. I have a lot of homework and might not be able to." I reassured her that I did not expect her to do any and that our usual lesson today would reinforce what we did in the catch-up.

G pitched up today and I asked her if she finished her homework. Came the devastating reply, "Yes. I finished about 10 last night." 10.00 pm? Aged 11? Of course, I did not ask what time she started but did not need to - I know the mould of child we are talking about. It was not 9.55. She then stated that she had spent an hour on a piece of work that did not need handing in until Monday and that this meant she had extra time to spend with some visiting family friends over the weekend. So she should have finished at 9.00 PM? Aged 11?

Then we have Amy - 13 years old. I think I described her earlier. She goes upwards a little more than me, but outwards nowhere at all. You would look at her and wonder how her torso manages to contain her vital organs. Your first instinct on meeting her would be the same as mine, and that is to feed her. She looks at me trustingly out of the huge rimmed glasses.

She missed her catch-up yesterday, so I asked her today, "What happened to you yesterday, sweetheart?" Her reply was devastating. "I was in PE and had a panic attack."

I asked her about it and it turns out that these happen from time to time. What is the trigger? "When things get on top of me."

For fuck's sake. 1 in 9 kids with mental health problems? 11 year olds doing homework until 10.00pm? 13 year old cuties having panic attacks? What are we doing to our kids?

As a society, we are getting something seriously wrong. Kids only get one shot at childhood and it behoves us all to make it a good one for them. We are failing monumentally.

[SteveHopwood]

That blasted Clarinet G1 Little Brown Jug piece has turned into my nemesis.

Remember the two little dabs playing it - Holly and Curtis? I kept Holly's copy so I could learn the damn thing. It only took five minutes to do so.

It turns out that one of the little dabs, Curtis, holds everything he needs for his clarinet lessons in one bag. At the end of our practise on Monday, WW teacher had jokingly put his copy of the piano part into said bag remarking, "We may as well have it where we need it, just in case."

As is my custom, I breezed through the accompaniment before leaving the house for the exams this morning. I had a flute exam first, so I arrived at the centre well in advance and walked into the practise room for a final run-through with Katie for her G6. You have met her before - needed teaching how to exit the exam room because she could not cope with the weird door handles; holding her audience in rapt attention after sending mum for some water etc.

I opened my briefcase to be greeted by just Katie's piano part. I had left Holly's on the piano at home. It was a heart-stopping moment.

OK, so nothing to get unduly worried about. Curtis would bring his copy, OK? It would be in the bag that carried all his clarinet stuff and his mum would not suddenly think to clear it out, surely? But what if........?

To add to the agony, Katie's exam was followed by a break, and then an exam for a pupil unknown to me. There was a potential 45 minutes of sweating before I learned just how bad my blunder had been - and at least a 75 minute round trip were I to try to drive home to retrieve Holly's copy.

So I sat and sweated. Curtis and his mum turned up 30 minutes later, massively early. I said to mum, "Hi. I am Steve, Curtis' accompanist." Then I turned to Curtis and said, "Curtis, a large part of what remains of my sanity depends on your answer to my next question. Did you bring your piano part?"

Obviously he had not a clue what I was talking about - he is 9. A quick investigation of The Clarinet Bag revealed the piano part. Much mirth on the part of mum at my expense following my explanation. Not entirely sure she would have been laughing had the piano part been removed from said bag.

Phew.

Double phew with an extra helping of phew.

Performing musicians live permanently a heartbeat away from catastrophe. These catastrophes are not supposed to involve 9 year old children.

What would I have done had Curtis not had his piano part? I am very good at this stuff when I actually remember to bring the music with me and had struck up a good rapport with the examiner the day before. I figured we could have come to some arrangement to reschedule later in the day. Possibly.

Explaining this to Holly and Curtis' parents might have been a tad on the difficult side.

The kids played brilliantly.

[SteveHopwood]

11 year old Gracie limped into her lesson today. "What is the matter?" I asked.

There was a Y7 assembly in the lecture theatre today. This is a typical lecture theatre with rising layers of seats, themselves with knock up and down seats. These seats usually rise automatically if there is nobody sat on them.

Gracie noticed that her row of kids were on their way out, leaving her behind. She ran to catch up, not noticing that one of the seats was still down.

"I ran full tilt into it," she explained mournfully.

"Ouch, " I replied. "That must have hurt. Did you cry?"

"Yes, but not a lot." Brave girl. I refrained from asking how much she swore.

Come the end of the lesson and G was packing up her stuff so I asked, "Anything really good happened to you this week?"

Came the instant reply, "Yes. Yesterday my grandad cooked me my favourite tea. Corned beef and potato pie."

Yuck. Sounds horrific, but her grandad cooked it for whom he undoubtedly describes along the lines of, "His very special little girl" so I bet it tasted wonderful to her.