Mr Blickenstaff

My hands flew across the piano keys as piano teachers and students watch intensely, trying to find any errors that I make. As I play I hear the music becoming blurry like a watercolor painting, mixing together and becoming one monstrous mess. I notice this and try to correct it by lifting my foot off the piano pedal, but the pedals do not work like the ones I normally use. I lose it as I am playing and silently say, “Jesus help me!” I continue to play and eventually correct the problem, but by that point, I had screwed up too much. After finishing, I pray to God as Mr. Blickenstaff slowly comes down the steps to correct my playing.
Blair, Vanderbilt school of music, hosted a masterclass on the seventeenth of September. Blair gave me the honor to play for Marvin Blickenstaff, a professional pianist, and piano teachers in middle
Tennessee. Marvin Blickenstaff was the guest speaker for the masterclass, where students would play for him, and he would create a lesson out of the students’ performances for the piano teachers.
I had two weeks to prepare myself for the masterclass. Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum was the piece that I had to play, but the only problem was that it was very rusty. I performed this song multiple times, so I felt that I would be able to pick back up on the piece fairly quickly. Thankfully, I was right and within one week, I was playing it like I used to last year. I also had to prepare myself for a flurry of questions I would receive about my playing and the song’s history. At the same time, I discovered that Mr. Blickenstaff bases his lessons on the questions he asks each student. By the second week, I was all set to play in the masterclass. I decided to treat this event like another one of my piano auditions, but hopefully not flop like I did at all of the auditions.
The day of the masterclass was a wreck.
I arose from my bed, and I went to the piano to polish up any rough edges on my piece. I could play almost perfectly, making the song sound like a beautiful piece of art. My plan was to arrive at the masterclass by twelve thirty to practice while the teachers and Mr. Blickenstaff were on their lunch break. However, I did not make it there until one o’clock because of traffic. I rushed into the room, frightened to death because I could not warm up on the piano at all. My hands were turning cold as I heard the students before me play. All of them were playing college level pieces that I could only dream of playing, but with such skill and precision that chills went down my spine. After each of them played, Mr. Blickenstaff would give them a short lesson to correct the smallest of errors that only an adept player could hear. He was exceptionally talented at teaching each one of them. Moreover, he enabled each student to quickly resolve their errors, but taught in a very kind manner. As my turn approached, I felt calmer and calmer as I was slowly feeling the warmth and kindness from his
teachings.
It was finally my turn to play. I was telling myself, “I’m ready, I'm ready, I'm ready. Hopefully, I don't mess up.”
As I was handing him my music and going down to the piano, Mr. Blickenstaff softly whispered, “Good luck to me.” That jinxed my whole performance. I was at the piano ready to play, and while I was getting ready, I heard shuffling and the rustling of papers as piano teachers and students were preparing to write notes about my playing. I started to play. The intro to the song was perfection; I was concealing a smile as I was starting to get the hang of my piece. All the mistakes and troubles I had, from small fingering issues to dynamic changes, were diminishing as I played. But then there was a problem that arose, and I could not do anything about it. Normally I play on Yamaha pianos, but that day I was playing on a Steinway grand piano. The pedals at the bottom of the pianos have different levels of resistance; therefore, all my work on pedaling was out the window. I noticed a slight blurriness to my playing, and it was due to the pedals not lifting up when I would lift my foot. Throughout the whole piece, I was thinking of how to correct this problem. By the time I did correct it, I was at the end of the piece and I had no use for the pedal anymore.
Once the song was over, I heard a loud applause, but I knew that all the piano teachers knew that I had befouled the song horribly. Mr. Blickenstaff came down to show me the errors that I made and congratulate me on my playing. The first question he asked was, “Do you know what the name of this piece means?” I knew the answer, but I decided to have some fun. I told him a very funny answer that got everyone laughing in an instant. Throughout the whole lesson, I was making him laugh and got the crowd very involved in my playing. For example, it was essential for me to say “pah” for every note that I would play in order to make it even. As an experiment, he ordered the crowd to say “pah” with me and see if that would make my playing even more even than I had it before. Another instance was when I needed to play a profoundly expressive part in the piece. I tried to make the excerpt of the song even more expressive, but nevertheless I could not find a way. Therefore, Mr. Blickenstaff required me to play it over and over, and he had the crowd vote whether it was or was not expressive enough. ultimately, I had a great time at the masterclass. Even though I messed up, I had so much fun during his lesson that it did not matter how I played.
Although my performance did not move as planned, at the end, everything worked out. The host of the masterclass congratulated me. Also, I was the only student to shake hands with Mr. Blickenstaff. Even when something does not come out as planned, always staying positive undoubtedly works out in the end. Through an elongated journey of piano competitions, I learned that negativity and anxiety for any type of event will almost always end in failure. Above all, pushing through a situation without any doubt or thought of failure, will ultimately lead to success in the end.