I don’t understand what the iPhone has against me but it kinda hurts my feelings.
Yes, I know I’ve dropped it a few times and it has suffered a tiny hairline crack across its face (but then, haven’t we all?) and I may not always remember to re-charge its intestines, and maybe it resents having to hide its svelte Apple-designed-but-naked body inside that rigid little Otter case, and yes, I do keep it on a cross-body leash for hanging from my neck because otherwise it would find itself inadvertently abandoned at church, the dentist’s office, the Dollar Tree, etc. (and it surely wouldn’t like that, would it?) and so-on. So alright already, I know that as its owner, I may not be perfect, but neither do I deserve the persecution the iPhone has inflicted on me.
My iPhone has discovered an effective method of showing its resentment, now that it knows the degree to which I suffer from performance anxiety.
To explain — when I even THINK about playing a piano keyboard for any other human listener, my fingers all of a sudden become very fat, my shaky hands sweat, and the suddenly murky score looks cross-eyed back at me. That’s why I wouldn’t be caught dead playing for any human listener, and only practice late at night encased in headphones after everybody else is fast asleep.
Sometimes, though, every once in a while when a piece was starting to sound good, I wistfully wished I could play it for somebody, but knew the likelihood of that ever happening was remote to none.
Thus it was that last month, I thought I had found a happy solution when I discovered the 100x Challenge on the Le Cheile Music website. The objective: to play a piece 100 times and then record it – before and after – to compare the degree of improvement, if any. Then each participating member would post a video recording of the polished version of what they had been working on. Zounds! What a great way to bypass the stage fright hassle and still be able to play and get feedback on my efforts. I was sure I could do this.
And I was hooked. Not only did that sound like a perfect plan to improve the playing of a piece, but if I could privately record it on my iPhone, maybe I could find the mettle to play it back for family without having to wet my pants in abject stage fright terror.
So I did it last month. I practiced the piece I was working on 100 times, and when I was ready, daughter Susy helped me set up my iPhone near the keyboard so I could record myself playing the piece. Then everybody cleared the house so I could record it. I figured it was going to be a recital-quality performance because it was sounding pretty good in the headphones.
There we were. Me, the keyboard, and the iPhone. We were alone. Nobody else. Not even one of the dogs. An intimate recording session with my iPhone. Susy had rigged the iPhone up on a closet door so all I had to do was hit the red Record button. If there was ever a workaround for performance anxiety, guys, this was IT!
I got comfortably settled on the piano bench and brought up the score on my iPad for the sonata I planned to play. I was ready. Then I reached to the side to hit the record button, and that’s when it happened. I was shocked. The iPhone was coldly staring right at me! And right behind it where the closet door should be, was AN AUDIENCE OF TWO THOUSAND PEOPLE IN CARNEGIE HALL! Or, anyway, that’s what it felt like.
Within seconds, I became a quivering puddle of fear, hands shaking, heart thumping, and before my eyes, my fingers became swollen like big sweating sausages. I was gobsmacked by my iPhone’s betrayal. Still am.
The only good thing I can say about my performance is that at least I had one. I did manage to hit the Record button. Actually, I hit it about 30 times, trying to produce some kind of rendition of all three movements of the sonata with the least number of glitches, wrong notes, hesitations, bad page turns, losing my place, and all the other delights of stage fright incompetence.
After I weeded through all my multiple renderings, I chose the one that I grimly considered to be less embarrassing than the others, and nervously posted it to the Le Cheile 100x Challenge group on Facebook. And, in case you read my blob last month, I also posted it here as my first attempt to show you that, yes, I am making an attempt to relearn how to play the piano.
It still amazes me at the encouraging comments I’ve had from those postings. (Take that, iPhone!). Everybody heard the same thing I heard, but they were tolerant!!! And I’m going to keep trying. I can’t let that iPhone keep intimidating me with its demonic tricks!
The piece I used for my first challenge took 11 minutes to play. That means that my 30 attempts to hobble out a recording of it took LOTS of time. I had better sense for the June 100x challenge. I chose a piece that I could play in a minute and a half. And it gave me time to work on two that are much harder. Again thanks to the iPhone and its scary red button, I had to make about 20 tries to get something with the least number of glitches. If you’re up for it, it’s posted below.
This is Stephen Heller’s Etude in A Major Opus 45 No. 2. It was published in 1845, but later somebody started calling it “Avalanche” and the name stuck. I’m not sure why though because many of the runs are going UP not down. It’s fun to play, though, and sometimes, I can make it sound pretty good — except, of course, when the evil iPhone isn’t fearsomely glaring at me whenever its red button is on.
Wow!!! You are incredible. Thank you so much for sharing this! I love it.
I absolutely love this video.
Thank you for sharing it. You are simply amazing!
It would take Shakespeare and Milton together to cook up superlatives to express our awe at your performance of that etude! We are just stunned! That flourish at the end left mouths agape. You are a wonder! And your piano playing is pure delight, please do it again!
OMG! The anticipation for Sunday blogs has always been high, but now you’ve added the excitement of performance! How do you work in the 100 practices? I want to be you when I grow up! Thank you for sharing.
Yes, time, where is that? You sound awesome! To”pick” it back up like you did is amazing!
All I can manage is a simple crochet stitch that your mother taught me. 🥴. And again, where is the time! I guess if I didn’t sleep, there would be time there.
Can’t wait for your next performance!!
What a wonderful skill to have (apart from stage fright). You give pleasure to all of us, and it must be fulfilling to be able to play such beautiful music. What fun, keep it coming!