In High School there was a time where I held the dubious honour of being the only string in the school band. It presented an awkward conundrum… where should I stand? Problem solved, my viola and I stood on the side with my friend who played the bassoon. The two of us brought a certain cultured nuance to an otherwise mainstream band of flutes and clarinets and a French horn. Proof that there is no one right way to create music in a group!
There is a physical joy in playing a string instrument. When you find that note that vibrates at just the right frequency you become one with both instrument and sound. Like other addictions the chase for that singular sensation when the bow strokes perfectly on the string and your body joins it in a heavenly note, ah. Divine.
I see reading back that my words could be misconstrued for a far racier physical experience… seriously, we are talking about making music! Minds out of the gutter!
Ours were the early years of a pilot music program in Bendigo and instruments came to us on a lease arrangement. When the lessons ended so did my access to the viola. Perhaps it is best I no longer have one…
Over the years we have collected quite a variety of instruments at Ardley. Each of the kids learned an instrument for less time than I would like but enough to ensure they love it. Clarinet. Saxophone. A range of guitars and a ukulele. A war horn (seriously!). A trumpet or two and, sadly, a range of recorders. Ian’s trumpet is a relic of his teenage years in school bands. No-one was more surprised than he was when it found a natural place in Iffy Pop playlists (do yourself a favour and get along to a gig. You will smile, sing, dance and rediscover musical joy). Actually, I was more surprised when I realised he could rap, but that’s another story entirely!
There is something about a musical instrument that binds itself to you in a way unlike many other possessions. Except books. Books hang on for dear life! I have at various times over the past few years of little musical output suggested to the kids that we sell their instruments if they’re not using them anymore and am always met with a resounding ‘not on your life’! The beloved thing is clasped protectively with arms wrapped around holding it well out of my cruel reach, accusing eyes above, until I retreat chastened to find a safe place for the thing to live on another year in our home. I should know better than to even suggest such sacrilege. I, too, am guilty of holding on ferociously to an instrument that has long been more decorative than creative.
The upright piano is precious to me. I learned on it as a child for years. It arrived in our home as a secondhand purchase from a farmhouse out of town. It was mustard yellow, painted to match the kitchen of that long ago home. My parents screwed up their noses in distaste and promptly painted it glossy dark 1970s brown… to match the decor of our home. I’m not sure if the fact that it remains that dark brown to this day is an act of rebellion or laziness. I like to suggest that it is about memory and keeping true to my roots. It lived for years out on the farm with my sister before making the move to our family when we returned to Bendigo. In the years since I have gone through many periods of coming home to the piano.
When it returned to us I was mostly at home with babies and had developed a new appreciation for wandering second hand shops. I found an old piano stool and brought it home to help me relive my musical youth. I may have been energetic when playing ‘The Entertainer’ but enthusiasm needed to be restrained when seated on that rickety thing!
My dad, problem solver extraordinaire and fixer of all things, quickly deemed it unsafe but salvageable. The seat disappeared for weeks and was returned with a new lease on life. He had taken a coffee table my own Pop had made and refashioned the top of it to become my new stool, attaching the graceful curved legs of the second-hand piece to it creating a beautiful but now sturdy seat for me to pull up to the piano. My dear father-in-law, a man of equally innovative skill and artistry, took away my swatch of fabric and returned it as a beautifully upholstered cushion to be attached to the frame.
With that much personal history now embedded in them the piano and seat are forever at the heart of our home. I sit at the grandfather seat and without even playing a note I am transported back in time.
It’s lucky I don’t have to play anything to experience the joy of music. Any talent I may have once had on the piano is long gone and my repertoire is restricted to those pieces I learned by heart in the 1980s. I can still play Für Elise, Old Joe Clark’s Boogie and the Entertainer. Wheels takes me back to learning chords with my dear grandmother, the most accomplished pianist in the family. I’ve laboured over some pieces from my favourite band My Friend The Chocolate Cake, the only new additions to my playlist since formal lessons ended in 1986. And yet it’s all still in there somewhere. My hands remember how to go into the correct position, wrists raised just so and my feet balanced in front of me. Those early drills sunk in deeply!
These days music is Mr T sitting on the couch experimenting with chords on the guitar and convincing Ms G to join him in the playfulness. The electronic sounds of the keyboard and mixer have gone home with him (phew!) but Ian has a tiny little trumpet (I don’t know why!) that ensures we still have access to the discordant sounds of homegrown music.
And then there’s the most incredible instrument of all. The one that we all love to use in private but need courage to play in public. It’s Ms G singing Riptide at the grade 6 concert and bringing tears to our eyes. Mr M flexing his warm baritone from behind the safety of his bedroom door. He doesn’t know that I sit quietly in the Eyrie right beside it and hope that the impromptu concert won’t end. I listen to my sister sing with her voice that effortlessly envelopes an audience in waves of pure joy and brings tingles to your spine. I hum along underneath that powerful jewelled sound and willingly allow the wave to catch me up and take me along with it. In the kitchen I play my favourites as loudly as I can and join my own voice to the song. It’s better than any other sensation, even the viola, truly it is! I sing in the car, sing to babies, sing to the dogs, I even sing to my plants. Whether it’s good or not is a redundant question.
That’s what music becomes, isn’t it? A rhythm, a tune to all of life. We are so lucky that for us our instruments are instant portholes to positive, joyful emotion and returning there is a comfort. It is a bridge across time. Iggy Pop himself, though not necessarily known for his wisdom, philosophically said I find it hard to focus looking forward. So I look backward. I guess that’s what coming home and sitting at the piano does for me.
And then, when I hit the first note, I bring that sensation firmly into the now. And there is no question about it. Now is awesome (Connie Johnson).
Love your music memoirs. You missed three girls and a dad singing.
Oh my goodness how did I miss that??? It’s the origin of all the musical love in my life!!!🥰
I too learned the piano. I still remember scant bits of Fur Elise, & should pull out that piece of sheet music to get the fingers to relearn it. My sister has a piano, so I should park myself at her house one afternoon, or bring it to Ardley upon my next visit 😉 During Covid I found myself wishing as a youngster I had learnt a portable instrument, so in times of loved ones being in isolation (& me not) to be able to go an play an impromptu song or 2 out the front of their house to cheer them up. I guess it’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks!
Never too late and the wise old dogs are still puppies inside – anything is possible and everything is exciting!!! I know. Harmonica. Portable and perfect for camping in the caravan (sorry N 😬 ).Give it a go…!
I love that the older he gets, the cooler your hubby becomes! I have heard him rap, he is so good
Seriously, who would have thought it??? And yet there it is. It’s the quiet ones who have the secret talents 😅