REUNITING WITH MY FIRST AND MOST IMPORTANT PIANO TEACHER

Reliving how a hand should be
placed on a keyboard, like holding an orange,
and never flat (like Horowitz).

REUNITING WITH MY FIRST

AND MOST IMPORTANT PIANO TEACHER

 

You will never guess whom you might meet at a book launch. And what a pleasant surprise it was for me to be reunited at the Tanglin Club with my very first piano teacher, Mrs Chia Pek Choo, after so many years. Although just four years old when I had my first piano lesson with Mrs Chia, I still remember that day very clearly.

It was a short walk from
24 to 40 College Green.

 

In 1969, my family was living at Dunearn Road Hostels (my mother being a physiology lecturer at Singapore University), and it was a short walk from 24 College Green to 40 College Green where the Chias had their home. I was accompanied by my nanny Ah Ee, who also walked me back an hour or so later. The first lesson was a very simple one, finding the the location of middle C, which was just above the upright piano’s keyhole. Three notes were played - middle C, D and E above it - just those three on a diatonic scale, and being so proud of the achievement, I told my mother all about it!

The first pictures I saw of
composers Tchaikovsky and Franck.

 

Subsequent weekly lessons saw me playing simple melodies on the right hand, and how excited I became when both hands were finally allowed to work together. Mrs Chia taught me to read musical notation on both treble and bass clefs as well as counting time. For me, the more interesting aspects were the pictures that accompanied the simple pieces. In the John Thompson books, each piece included a photograph of the composer, and I was naturally curious who those oldies were. For the page with Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony (the slow movement’s theme which was used to illustrate a triplet), there was a picture of the composer looking glum and pensive. For a piece which had widely-spread chords, there was a composer with long sideburns playing the organ. That was, of course, Cesar Franck and the piece was the Chorale from Prelude, Choral et Fugue. Very simply, I was being introduced to the great classics, except that I did not know it then!

 

Mrs Chia was very patient and often indulged me on my inquisitiveness. There was also a big green book with rather difficult piano pieces which had line drawings of more composers whose names I could barely pronounce. They included people like Moritz Moszkowski and Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, which she helpfully taught me to spell and remember. There was never a harsh word, and I certainly never had my fingers rapped. The only admonishment was for looking out of the window to see university students playing frisbee, and her remark was, “What’s so interesting outside?” She was right, as the music lessons were far more riveting.

 

I was in Primary One (6 years old) when the time came for students to prepare for the ABRSM (Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music) piano examinations. I took a look at the Grade One set pieces; there was a piece by Mozart and a little March in C major, which had so many “wrong” notes. I tried that out, thoroughly disliked its dissonances and refused to play. My parents and Mrs Chia were cool about it, and decided that I continue to have lessons but without the stress of taking exams. Till this day, I have yet to pass my Grade One in both practical and theory. Later, I found out that the author of the “wrong note” March was one Dmitri Shostakovich, now one of my favourite composers.

 

What was the use of learning the piano without having the chance of playing for friends and family? Mrs Chia organised a house concert, and I got to play the theme from Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony (first movement). I practised hard for that and played it almost perfectly. The reward was one of those spring coiled snakes that leaped out from a genie jar. 

I was saddened when Mrs Chia and her family (with daughters Marion and Ruth) had to leave for London where her chemistry lecturer husband Lawrence was to pursue further studies in 1973. Mrs Chia then passed me to the good hands of her colleague, Mrs Chiew Ho Peck who lived in Eng Kong Terrace. For two years, I was further tutored on the rudiments of musical theory and was ready to take on any examination, except that the “no-examinations” philosophy prevailed. Just enjoying and understanding music was good enough.

 

The less said about my third piano teacher, who operated a student assembly-line and sweatshop off Chancery Lane, the better.

A sketch by my maternal grandfather,
Tay Hooi Keat, of myself at the
piano, age 11 years old. 

 

I have since been coached on the piano by well-known musicians like Juliette Lai, Toh Chee Hung, Noriko Ogawa, Bryce Morrison and Bernard Roberts, but cannot over-emphasise the importance of a crucial first piano / music teacher in a young student’s journey in musical education. A good teacher can inspire and motivate an interest in lifelong learning and appreciation of the arts, while an indifferent one will only smother and kill all such endeavours. 

So here is a shout out to all dedicated neighbourhood piano teachers, people like Mrs Chia and a younger generation of inspirers like Winnie Tay and Angelyn Aw, without whom we would not have heard of the likes of piano talents Clarence Lee, Azariah Tan, Jessie Meng, Chen Jing, Toby Tan and Serene Koh.