Some lessons learned the hard way

Last night I did something very difficult – I watched my son Sam fail in front of an audience of about 50 people. It was one of the most difficult things that I have ever done as a mother.

Last night was Sam’s piano recital. He was playing a piece by Clementi that he has spent the last six months or so learning! He played it from memory for the Ribbon Festival back in March. He also played it from memory at my mother’s retirement home a few weeks ago. I know that he knew this piece.

I have been an instrumentalist musician for over 30 years. I know that “it ain’t over, until it’s over” meaning that you have to keep practicing and going over a piece until you are done performing it for the season, particularly a solo. But I think Sam figured he had this one nailed. He didn’t practice much last week at all and even though I kept saying things like, “you know your recital is in a few days,” it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Last night a few hours before the recital I could hear him struggling through his piece and I suggested that perhaps he should take his music up with him, but Sam was determined to perform without the music. I thought he would probably make a few slips but since he seemed so confident, I felt assured.

We were wrong.

It was a disaster.

Although he started off well he came to a place where his fingers just didn’t know where to go and although his right hand kept going, his left hand never did find their place again and even starting over and rebooting the piece didn’t help.

I couldn’t watch. I closed my eyes, and heard what the music was supposed to sound like in my mind and tried with all my might to will it over to him via his Guardian angel. But to no avail.

Sam had to stand up and apologize and go back to his seat to polite applause. His teacher said sometimes that happens. His grandmother patted his hand and told him that had happened to her once. I told him that if this was the worst thing that ever happens in his life, he would be a very blessed person. I don’t think any of that helped.

He was hot and sweaty, ashamed and embarrassed.

Mr. Pete didn’t help much. Seeing his son flounder helplessly was more than he could take and he got up and left under the guise of taking Rosie out for being disruptive, (although actually that little girl sat straight through it!)

As a musician who has had my own share of musical gaffs, I know that he has to keep playing now or yesterday’s disaster is going to paralyze him. I guess Sam and I will talk about it a little today and see maybe I can get him a chance to play something at church in the next few weeks, just to give him some confidence back.

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