Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

[SteveHopwood]

Another from the masterclass.

Richard wanted the kids nod at the first beat of each bar. Given the difficulty that we have in adopting a foreign movement, this was never going to happen. He gave up after the second attempt, wisely. Jas was the second attempt.

Released back to the safety of the rest of the group, she quickly cottoned on and was soon nodding at the first beat of every bar whenever subsequent victims played. Her fellow victims picked up on this and were soon nodding in time - until they had to play, when the 'skill' disappeared.

The valid point Richard was trying to make is that professional pianists maintain a sense of pulse with some sort of physical movement - he cited tapping the left little toe as an example. I maintain an inner count and am mostly still at the piano - I am a pianist not a choreographed dancer.

Others are 100% in the opposite direction. Lang Lang, for example, appears certifiable.

Richard made the mistake of telling the kids to YouTube Yuja Wang so Miss called up an example of her playing after the session ended. To me, Yuja is a 'complete pianist' - unbelievable technique when required allied to poetic playing in lyrical passages. She is phenomenal. In a world going to Hell in a handbasket, she is an example of humanity at its best. I am listening to her playing at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD5pqlDPCHc as I write this. Fantastic.

She is also serene at the keyboard. Watch her for a couple of minutes. Not a hint of the theatrical nonsense that less talented pianists engage in to try to win their audience over.

Miss had found an example of Yuja playing and arrangement of, "Flight of the Bumble Bees" as an encore (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8alxBofd_eQ) as a much younger girl. Incredible. Staggering. The kids were as open mouthed as I was.

Jas recovered first and quipped, "She will never be any good. She doesn't nod in time to her playing."

Nice one, Jas. I knew I could count on someone in the group to spot the fallacy.

[SteveHopwood]

From last week:

I was playing a new piece to Jas. I noticed her sucking the back of her hand whilst I was doing so. With a due sense of dread and despair I asked, "What are you doing, poppet?"

Jas showed me a slightly blooded point on her hand and answered, "Sucking on this."

Yuk.

"I like the taste of blood."

Yuk.

We all know that the words, "strange" and "child" go together in the same sentence so I joined in. I asked, "Do you realise darling, that makes you a vampire?"

Came the wonderful reply and display of said tooth, "I have a vampire tooth." OK, so not quite the size of those sported by Count Dracula, but impressive nonetheless.

------------

Jas happened on Monday and I arranged extra Weds lessons for her, Ethan and Gwenny. Come Tuesday morning and I really wanted to give Megan an extra as well, so I emailed Miss to ask her to contact Megan and arrange a lesson at the start of the afternoon. Miss emailed me back to state that Megan was seated next to her and that the extra lesson was duly booked in.

Come Weds and I flogged in early to accommodate Megan, who failed to turn up. Mild irritation on my part was all. It was only an extra 20 minutes after all, and getting mad whenever a teen goes wrong would leave all of us in a permanent state of fury.

Miss phone around to try to find her without success. I suggested a 'wind up'. I said, "Should you bump into her before her timetabled lesson tomorrow, tell her I was absolutely livid. Just for a few seconds. Back off quickly if she believes you."

On its own, that would Make a Point to a gentle, sensitive, caring and unutterably lovable child.

Come Megan's timetabled Thursday lesson, I glared at her and growled, "Where were you yesterday?"

Never mind the details but her explanation was one I agreed with and we proceeded with the lesson. Something occurred to me later on so I explained what I had cooked up with Miss and asked, "Angel, would you have believed her?"

"No," came the confident reply. That made me happy.

--------------

I cannot help offering constant encouragement to the kids, whatever they are doing. I did so at one point in Bailey's lesson and she stumbled instantly. I stopped her and asked if my encouragement had disturbed her.

Her reply was masterly. "Oh no. I never listen to you."

Hmmm. Still no trembling in my presence, I note.

------------

Our Weds choir can be difficult to control. Their attention can wander off point at the drop of a (usually but not always Masie inspired) hat. Second lieutenant trouble maker is Georgi, whom I have described to Miss as the most beautiful trouble maker I have ever met. In reality, I am not sure which of these two are the worst.

Miss and I adore them both. Along with the rest of them. They pile into the room bringing sooo much love with them. They are wonderful. Just hard to control without the sort of verbal violence that would be entirely inappropriate under the circumstances.

Thingy is, none of us are being paid for being there. Not me and Miss and definitely not the kids but they have bought into the concept of only missing a rehearsal if absolutely unavoidable. We produce wonderful stuff as a result. OK, so Miss and I are there for the kids' benefit but there is no denying how good they make us look whenever we perform.

Miss had to leave early on Weds, for a Y8 parents' evening - remember the joy of those folks? "I Won't Say"as performed recently at the music festival involved Georgi and the 'soloist' and the rest of the group providing harmony. We are going to perform this again in a concert at the end of June. The kids had acted as well as sung the song, adopting a series of 'statue' poses. Miss put Assistant Trouble Maker Georgi in charge of a rehearsal of adopting the poses and then a run through of the song.

Georgi was amazing. She made Miss Trunchbull look like a pathetic amateur. She let the rest of the group get away with nothing - even Head Trouble Maker Masie. She ruled the group with a rod of iron.

-

Before Georgi took charge, somehow her and Masie's rendition of the Queen of the Night aria came up and I mentioned how I had YouTubed it after the rehearsal and found the player terrifying. Gracie picked up on thi, found it on her phone and showed it to the rest of the group. "Far too scary for me," was the general consensus.

[SteveHopwood]

One more from our senior choir from las week that I forgot to add.

I have taken to handing Masie a tissue before we begin the rehearsal. She is going to be reduced to tears of laughter (usually) each week, so this saves time later on.

I did so again and was greeted by this sweet and earnest little face saying, "I did not use your tissue last week but did so today. I had a nose bleed and used it to mop up."

Sad she had a nose bleed. Glad my tissue helped mop up. Really glad that kids recover so quickly from minor health events.

[SteveHopwood]

I now also teach in a school just up the road from where I live. Only 4 pupils at the mo, but it is a short drive and the kids are a joy.

Eva and I became instant besties the moment we met. That I love kids is not the issue; some of them recognise this faster than others and with Eva this recognition was instantaneous. It just works that way sometimes.

The piano stool squeaks. The piano is horrible. Eva complained, "We need a new piano stool." I complained back, "We need a new piano to replace this old wreck."

I have taken to putting a second pencil on Eva's side of the piano, as a, "Defensive weapon" for her. I glared at her and snarled, "I need a new pupil to replace you."

I received the usual cute round mouthed look of shock and the reply of, "How rude."

These are children I am dealing with, so I like to check up on how they are receiving me from time to time. I gave it a few seconds and then said, "Darling, you do 'get' that I adore you, don't you?"

Smugly and complacently she replied, "Oh yes."

Then Eva picked up her Defensive Weapon, pointed it at me and announced, "Besides, I am armed and dangerous. You are old, so I am bound to be quicker than you."

Not that I would ever test this, but I bet she is correct.

[SteveHopwood]

I pitched up at school today to be greeted by the usual Dingbat Group of Motley Y9 Musicians. Not sure I will remember to call them that again, so their description may well change. For sure, they are one of the cutest group of kids I have ever met: Julia, Lillyana (Bestie of Julia and known as Lilly), Maisie, Faith and Marsha. Georgi and Lilly (different Lilly; good luck with keeping up) also belong to The Cutest Group but do not usually turn up to these end of lunchtime meetings.

Masie was strumming a guitar. Marsha was dragging her chair around the room backwards. This was not safe behaviour and I should have stopped it. Thingy was, they were happy. These kids suffered for two years. Kids in other parts of the world are suffering dreadful stuff. I am into children being happy, so I left them to it and crossed my fingers. There were no injuries suffered.

I settled into Miss' squiggly chair to enjoy the entertainment. Besties Julia and Lilly were in their usual occupation of the piano. Julia complained to me that Lilly had shoved her left hand and hurt it. The explanation was a typical child's long and convoluted one, so I quickly lost focus. This becomes more relevant later.

There was a normal class chair next to me. Julia shoved Lilly off the piano stool, so she came to sit next to me. I had my left leg crossed over my right. Lilly did the opposite. Julia hates it when thingies do not match up in perfect symmetry, so she glared at me and demanded that I recross my legs a la Lilly. I know when it is time to do as I am told and adjusted my position immediately.

Julia complained about her hand hurting when she played so I made my customary/variable offer in these situations. "Would you like me to twist your arm darling, to take your mind off <insert pain here>"? The understandably usual reply is, "No thanks."

Slim 13 year olds like Julia are incredibly flexible - remember how you were at the same age? Instead of the usual reply, Julia shoved her left hand up between her shoulder blades then used her right hand to shove it a bit further. "Nope, doesn't do a thing to hurt." Quite glad, really.

-----------

The afternoon progressed. Gwenyth came for her lesson. Jas and Gwenyth are cousins and I heard Jas call her 'Gwenny'. I heard Gwenyth's mum call her her the same in a phone call home, so I asked her and received, permission to call her 'Gwenny'. Only because I find 'Gwenny' easier to pronounce that 'Gwenith'. It might only be me, but try it and see.

I do not talk about Gwenny much these days. She continues to make fantastic progress. She merely lacks the ability to entertain that The Dingbats possess. Trust me folks, I worship this child.

----------

Now we have a name for the Y9 group of Motley Musicians. The Dingbats.

---------

Julia came down for her extra lesson. Her left hand was still hurting, so I gave her every opportunity to cry off playing. We are all the same: present us with a child in pain and we want to stop the pain; if unable to stop the pain, the least we want to do is alleviate it.

Try this easy experiment folks. Close your eyes then touch your nose with either hand - or even both. Your brain has a 'picture' of where you are in space.

Teens shoot up in one of two directions: up or out. They never go in both directions. Give then a year or two and the direction that got left behind will catch up. Trouble is, the brain takes a while to catch up. Idiot.

So, teens go through a clumsy stage where they are falling over, dropping and breaking things. It really is not their fault. It causes the poor loves a lot of pain.

Julia is going through this. She has shot up a lot (she was tiny when she came to our school but now is as tall as me) and outwards, nowhere. She is doing clumsy to International Clumsy Team standards, with hopes of joining the Galactic equivalent.

It is not done to make physical contact with kids in school. This works for both parties. The kids cannot feel threatened by someone in a position of authority over them. Teachers cannot be accused of inappropriate behaviour, given that our classrooms are covered by CCTV that is only consulted when necessary - remember my 'lost car' incident? Imagine something more serious. Sad, but necessary.

Julia and I have this agreement. I want to give kids a hug all the time so we agreed on 'virtual hugs'. I say to her, "Consider yourself hugged darling," so she does.

The poor love showed me another wound on a finger on her right hand when she dropped a technology tool on it, and described the agony that caused. That was a long virtual hug.

[SteveHopwood]

Eva again.

I suppose I need to try to identify the school at which I am teaching. Let's try this. No 1 is the school I have been teaching at for years - Julia, Masie, musicals, Dingbats et al. So let's try No 2 for the the school up the road. I might think up different names.

I was at No 2 today. The room in which I teach has a wall entirely of windows from half way up. It looks out onto a walkway that is busy for most of the day with kids going about their kiddy stuff. They can easily see into the room so I receive and give back many a friendly wave - it is lovely. These are fabulous village kids.

I do not remember how, but 13 year old Eva and I started talking about brain to hand coordination today - logical in terms of playing the piano.

Eva suddenly announced, "I can rub my stomach and pat my head." It took her several attempts to get going, each one interspersed with, "I can do it, honest." She got going eventually.

Then she announced, "I can do this whilst hopping on one leg." Up she stood and started to hop. I am well versed in teen lunacy, but this was special.

Eva stopped, spun around and sat down intoning, "Oh no. I have been seen by kids walking past. I will never live this down." She was not really embarrassed - just hamming it up.

Wonderful stuff from a glorious child. I emailed her mum with the story. She loved it.

[SteveHopwood]

I arrived in School no 1 today to some fabulous news. Joey (G3 Music Theatre exam) is going to take piano lessons. I adore this child, so this makes me very happy.

-------------

Lilly came for her freebie lesson today. Bestie Julia preparing for her Grade 1 came up in conversation from Lilly, announcing that she would quite like to do the same, so I said, "Angel, we started doing our lessons together for some fun because we like each other. Do you want to do piano exams?"

The beam that accompanied her, "Yes please" would have powered the National Grid for a couple of hours. Lilly announced that the piece J is currently preparing for her G1 programme is one that she loves, so I went to make her a copy. On my way back to the piano, I asked, "I guess that you lot know that I adore you all and will stop at nothing for you?"

Lilly's reply of, "Yes, we do" was so cute that my heart has not stopped melting since.

We got onto the subject of lesson frequency. Given that we are starting to learn G1 pieces for an exam, I booked Lilly in for an extra, extra freebie on Wednesday rather than waiting a whole fortnight for the next. Trouble is, the parents of all the other kids are paying for a lesson a week, so I mentioned this to Lilly.

It turns out that Lilly wants her mum to pay but her glorious conscience is kicking in. Mum has offered to pay for piano lessons with all the extra time implied, that I will pour into her wonderful daughter, but Lilly is already taking violin lessons at school. She is taking up the offer of a couple of oversees trips offered by the school, in the coming months. These are not cheap.

Lilly is feeling guilty about the cost of all this, bless her. Yet she confirmed that mum is willing to pay. Both mum and I (me today) have asserted that money spent on education is never wasted. Lilly accepts this from an, "I know what I am getting," 13 year old point of view. She has agreed to talk this over with her mum.

Fingers crossed.

--------------------

I told Bailey about Eva's Defensive Pencil last week. I had sharpened both of mine before today. I use the shorter one at the desk where I fill out the kids' music passes, and the longer one at the keyboard so I can point to the notes they are trying to play.

Bailey did something gormless for the 5th time, so I threatened her with the sharp end of my pencil. Quick as a flash, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her own weapon. Blunt as blunt can be; entirely useless as a weapon of self defence.

I showed her the tip of my pencil, then touched the tip of hers to make the point. Then I made one of those huge theatrical glances over towards the sharpened weapon of defence lying on Miss' desk. No idiot, is our Bailey. She followed my glance, grabbed the pencil and held both mine and hers in self defence. We called it a draw.

I love these kids.

[SteveHopwood]

Gwenny and I were doing our after school session yesterday. Lois and Evie appeared in the doorway. Evie gave Gwenny a wonderfully warm wave and smile.

To know Lois and Evie is to love them. It is automatic and irresistible. They can do no wrong, or if they do will not get into trouble for it. Lois entered and spent about a minute crashing around at the far end of the room, moving lots of furniture. Gwenny and I watched in rapt fascination.

Monday is the morning that Lois and Lilly's violin teacher goes to the school. Lois finally emerged, triumphantly brandishing the violin she has stored safely under mounds of furniture. I could have asked why she had not stored it in the storage cupboard especially designed for this purpose, but learned a long time ago not to ask such questions of bonkers teens. She looked up to find all of us watching, smiled the sweetest smile, said, "Oops. Sorry," and fled.

Somehow, the previous week, Gwenny and I had got onto the subject of her friends. I had remarked, "You are a wonderful young lady, sweetheart. I bet you have wonderful friends." Came the complacent reply, "I do."

Back to Lois' exit, I said to Gwenny, "That was a beautifully warm greeting that Evie gave you." "She is my friend," was the reply.

I know Lois and Evie as buddies in after school music clubs so I asked, "Is Lois part of your friendship group?"

"Yes."

Oh wow. What a fantastic group of kids. A year older than The Dingbats so I cannot include them in that group. Nor do I see them as a group so I will not nickname them for now, at least. It is a privilege just to know them and be a tangential part of their lives.

-----------------------

Earlier in the day was Gwenny's timetabled lesson. New pieces can be: hard to learn the notes but easy to play once learned; easy to learn the notes but hard to play once learned. Many of you reading this will be familiar with this.

The piece I was teaching G fell into the first category; learning/teaching the notes in these is exhausting. My timetable allowed me to give her an hour long lesson. We both needed a break after 25 minutes or so; I announced that we, "Are taking a brain break," and asked if anything really pleasant had happened to her since I saw her last.

Remember G and Jas are cousins? Jas' family has hens. One of them had chicks. Most of us know how cute newly born chicks are - me because I have been to the houses of pupils whose hens have hatched chicks. Ditto, how much fun hens are to keep in the back garden.

G said, "We are going to be given some of the chicks." Wonderful. I will try to remember to ask about them every week; there should be some rich entertainment to come.

------------------

Eva came for her lesson today. She noted the lack of pencil on her side of the piano, folded her arms and demanded, "I am playing nothing until I have A Defensive Weapon." Sitting in silence for half an hour would not have been productive, so I handed her my second pencil.

We had a great lesson.

[SteveHopwood]

The more I teach Younger Lilly (i.e. rising 14), the more adorable she becomes to me.

We had a lesson arranged at 1.10 today. I pitched up 10 minutes early. Wednesday is Dungeon day. I was met at the door by an anxious Lilly asking, "Can I still have my piano lesson, please?"

"Yes darling. It is not until 1.10 but you are here, so you can have some extra time."

"You wrote 1.00 on my music pass. I went to see Miss when you were not here and she said you were probably held up in traffic."

I did not argue. We all know the turmoil the blasted timetable causes me and by extension, the long-suffering kids. I replied with, "Hey ho. You are early and so get an extra ten minutes." The beam that followed was merely a practice for the search-light force beam that was to come later.

I signed L's music pass and showed it to her. I was correct for once; 1.10 was the lesson time. L giggled deliciously, turned her nearly-brightest beam on me and replied, "Oops. Sorry. I mis-read it."

I asked, "You know why that is?"

Knowing what was coming, L replied, "Why?".

"Because you are an idiot."

She gave a mock sniff of despair, said mournfully, "I know," then shed some mock tears. Then she brightened, gave me her smile-to-die-for and asked, "OK, what's next?"

We moved on. I left the door open as usual. Karl appeared in the doorway, nodded towards L and asked, "How is she doing?" My reply was both heartfelt and truthful - she is awesome - "Absolutely brilliantly. Lilly is a joy to teach."

The conversation moved onto how Karl had met her whilst teaching her Maths last year; how she had been the sweetest, most cooperative and conscientious kid in the class - and this in a school full of such kids. I could feel this glorious child's self esteem building by the second. He finished with, "I had better go, before Lilly's head becomes so large that she cannot get out of the room." Off he went.

I said to L, "Angel, the reason all of us say such lovely thingies to and about you is that you are the most wonderful child. That you are clever is an accident of birth. That you are so unfailingly kind, polite and humorous is down to you. It is a privilege to be involved with you." Yes, I know I wrote that yesterday in a different context; it is just a privilege to be involved with so many gorgeous kids, OK?

Here in the UK, that brief power cut earlier in the afternoon was caused by the beam I received in return.

--------------------

In my defence, it is not only me who gets confused by the timetable. Mind, as usual it was me who started this one. Jas' timetabled lesson is on Monday. I had used up my Wednesday slots for extra lessons by the time she appeared, so I booked her in at 1.10 on Thursday. I did a mental replay last night and recognised that this was impossible - already booked up by timetabled lessons.

So I emailed Miss to ask her to tell Jas that her extra lesson would actually be at 12.00. Not a problem until Jas turned up at 12 today (Wednesday). Jas turned up. There was no me. Jas has learned on these occasions to think, "Yep. He got it wrong again," and went to ask Miss to sort out the confusion.

Miss had read my email incorrectly and passed a message to Jas to attend at 12.00 today (Weds) rather than tomorrow (Thurs). She read the email again and (possibly) sorted out the confusion. I will arrive a few minutes early tomorrow, in the hope that we can send for her at the correct time. How much do you want to bet that she contracts a bug and is off school instead?

Jas is a 12 (soon to be 13) year old child relying on experienced adults to look after her best interests. I wonder how often she sighs and thinks in despair, "What chance do I stand?"

At least, she knows we love her.

----------------------

It was Miss' 25th today. She has two close friends on the staff. She prefers to use room 149. These two friends and several of the students arrived early to decorate the room. There were: banners; streamers; balloons; party poppers; silly hats; mountains of confetti: chocolates; cup cakes.

Now imagine this. 16 year old Georgi was one of the students who turned up early. On a day when she faced an entire day of GCSE English exams. Consider the loyalty and love that Miss has engendered in this wonderful child, to persuade her to do this. Fantastic.

We had senior choir at the end of the day. They conducted the entire rehearsal wearing silly hats and consuming cup cakes. We did not do a lot of work.

[SteveHopwood]

Jas asked me today, "Are you rich?" I answered, "Yes, twice over but not in the usual meaning of the term."

To put this into context, all non-rich parents know what it is to contend with their angels' constant requests for stuff that costs money. Jas' question came up in the context that I subscribe to Amazon Prime and Netflix - c. £6.30 each and she can only have Netflix.

I will be 71 next birthday. I am alone. I own my own house. I do not eat out. I do not have car repayments - although this will change soon. My income is far from massive but my outgoings are tiny. Amazon Prime and Netflix are less than flea bites to me.

Jas' parents are separated - the sad case so often these days. They have two mortgages/rents to pay. Jas has a younger sister. She spends half of her time with dad; I have no doubt that he contributes appropriately to her upkeep or she would not be having piano lessons. She is always well dressed and clearly well cared for. She is as complacent about her economic situation as are all loved and well provided for kids.

Cheap to run, she ain't. Is any child? I explained all this to her and she understood why I could consider myself 'rich' financially.

Always ready to let the kids have some fun at my expense I described why I really consider myself 'rich'. I said to her, "Sick bucket at the ready poppet?"

Sensing entertainment to come she picked up the waste bin and replied, "Yes."

"You will need to be strong." Brief pause. "Ready?"

J scrunched herself up as though about to be whipped.

"It is you lot darling. It is all of you that I teach here. You bring a joy to my life that I could not get elsewhere. You make me emotionally rich."

Jas mimicked poking a finger down her throat and pretended to vomit into the waste bin.

I gained the impression throughout the rest of the lesson that she believed me - just that extra bit of relaxation and trust.

I was not lying and kids tend to pick up on when adults in their lives are telling the truth or not.

---------------

Going back to the piece that I was teaching Gwenny - hard to learn but easy to play. This was a potential replacement for a Grade 4 piece that was easy to learn but hard to play. There was a section that she was finding really hard to master. This is Schumann's Sicilienne for those of you in the know - the semiquaver section. The Gwenny's of this world do not give up easily but I wanted to give her the choice. The potential replacement is supposed to be 'atmospheric' but is duller than ditch water in reality.

I told her to practise it until we met again today (Monday) and then either say, "Yes, good replacement," or, "No. I would rather have my braces tightened until they are agony." Tooth braces, that is. Agony definitely not required.

She came for her lesson today. I asked her, "Is it 'yes' or 'braces'". "Braces," came the unhesitating reply.

I have a method of mastering passages such as this one. I will not describe it here because it will be meaningless to non-pianists, but pm me if you want it. I spent Gwenny's in school and after school lesson taking her through it. The passage in question was hugely improved by the time we finished and a highly relieved, if exhausted, G staggered home for tea.

Not funny I know, but I thought you might like to know that I am still looking after this glorious child.