"It is dreadful when something weighs on your mind, not to have a soul to unburden yourself to. You know what I mean. I tell my piano the things I used to tell you."
Chopin
Shortly after I arrived in the United States, my mother had me take piano lessons. It was not my choice. After less than a year of lessons, and one recital, I was given the choice to give it up, and so I did, as may have been predicted.
Many years later, the summer after my sophomore year in college, I was bored, and decided to learn to play again. It was mostly due to boredom, and perhaps it was also due to wanting to be like everyone else in my peer group who played an instrument. If you prefer a romantic explanation, there was this girl named Tamara who I wanted to seduce the following semester with my playing. Ha! But, really, she's 'one that got away.' I never had the opportunity to play for her. Nevertheless, I went through my old book rather quickly, though in my opinion too quickly, for me to learn much, or rather, relearn. I moved on to a easy 'adult' book, and, with great pains, memorized a certain famous minuet.
And that was the beginning. And, in most ways, it still is, the beginning. With the exception of my mother and others playing pieces for me that I wanted to learn, I have received no formal instruction, nor have I been persistent in my practice, to my own disappointment. I have learned mostly through memorization of progressively more difficult pieces. A watered-down version of Chopin's Etude Opus 10 Number 3 was a landmark piece for me technically. The first time I heard it I fell in love with it instantly, and I knew I was going to learn it no matter what. And so I did. A semester later, I'd find Pachelbel's Canon online and spend a few months studying and memorizing this eight minute piece (octaves!). It was nearly a year later that I was actually able to play, or understand, this piece emotionally. It was an amazing experience, and it was then when I first realized the importance of emotions in playing the piano.
I can read much better now than when I memorized Canon. I think it's partly due to my current practice of playing a variety of pieces instead of concentrating on one or two at a time. Technically, I have improved to my own satisfaction, and I continue to do so. Emotionally, I have much further to go. There are pieces I simply don't understand [emotionally]. For example, it was not too difficult for me to memorize the first part of Chopin's Etude Op. 10 No. 3, but regardless of the number of times I've played it, I cannot get it to sound 'right.' Technically I can guess what my problems are, but, even so, I believe the large part of the problem is my comprehension, or rather lack of, of the emotions accompanying the piece.
It's fun. It's one of those things you can do for fun that doesn't result in someone else getting hurt, probably anyway. It's a way of expressing emotions, of releasing emotions. Stress relief, perhaps? Pounding on the keys is almost therapeutic. There are no women in my life to try to impress, so I must play for myself. Besides, I've noticed most women take it for granted that anyone knows how to play, much less a level 2. I am my own audience, even when I play in public. Maybe it's a way of growing up, emotionally. Playing the piano is probably also one of those things you can work at and get positive feedback from, without depending on people, not entirely unlike fishing or other hobbies I've taken up in the past. Practice makes perfect, and there are tangible, pleasing results. Then again, there are simply piano pieces that I really like to listen to.
These are the pieces I currently know, or, in other words, I can play somewhat reasonably well. I chose these because they were or are at my current skill level, because I believe I had or have something to learn from them emotionally and/or technically, and oftentimes because I liked how they sounded. Do not ask me to play anything else. Really, no kidding. They are all from Reader's Digest Treasury of Best Loved Songs.
These are pieces I would like to have in my repertoire in the future. Read this as, 'A really long time from now.'