The sociology of group learning and music making.

A short story.

Those of us of a certain age remember that playing in a teenage rock band was a rite of passage in the 1970s. Fueled by macho images, on TV, of rock gods playing to legions of screaming girls ignited our imaginations. With visions of world dominance and female adoration playing in our heads we strapped on guitars, picked up drumsticks, and congregated in shag carpeted suburban rec rooms and formed bands. After a few weeks we had weeded out the hopeless, the nerds, and other misplaced posers. This left the rest of us newly minted teenagers to begin our quest for social significance.  



Here is a timeline.

Year one: We were gawd awful but enthusiastic. We began with Smoke on the Water. We argued and shared bits and pieces of the thing, slowly stitching the thing together. Later, I remember bringing my little radio shack cassette recorder, and proudly recording our band, and listening to it back. Kirby, our drummer was so traumatised that he quit on the spot and was never known to have played again. Even worse it was his rec room, so we needed a new place to practice too.
Year two: The music started to come together. However, there were many more personnel changes over disputes around commitment to the band, artistic differences, and widening skill levels.
Year three: We played in public for the 1st time. Thankfully this was before social media and cell phone video. So, in my memory we were formidable rock gods. (However, I’ve heard some musicians of my early acquaintance play in the last few years, they were gawd awful, which tempers my memory.)
Year four: I’m at Berklee College of Music in Boston and the rest is history.

Postscript.
A few of us from North Bay made it in the end. One of us, the late John McGale, even became a certified rock star and guitar god. And yes, music did take me around the world though not as a rock star. 
 
If you would like to start your quest for music world dominiation, call me, I'll teach you to play. Music lessons were a crucial step we missed back then, we tried to teach ourselves because we were 13 years old and full of self assurance. 

David

​Just fiddling around 
1.    Fiddle dee dee 
Heather Lotherington
 
I took up the violin in my 60s. It was early summer, 2018, shortly after my daughter had taken me to task on a constant refrain that my next car would be a Porsche. On my birthday, she met me at a Porsche dealership and insisted the two of us test drive the car of my dreams. Midway out of the lot, the exquisite sports car’s battery went flat, and we drifted into traffic. It was horrifying—but a dramatic lesson. Life waits for no one. (I bought an Audi TT instead).
 
When my husband suggested a lovely gift idea for my birthday, I declined and asked for violin lessons. Soon after, I had a rental violin in hand, and a month’s lessons lined up with a local teacher, who I found online. And thus began my violin journey.
 
I remember my first lesson: I had no idea how to hold the violin or the bow or that I needed a shoulder stand to help position the violin more comfortably on my shoulder. I didn’t even know how to pick up my instrument. It was a very cold start.
 
I reckoned that playing the violin—an idea in the back of my mind for some time—might help stem my arthritis and encourage some flexibility in my increasingly knobby, stiff fingers. This wasn’t the primary motivation for learning, but it did help to spur me along. I had put off my dream of playing the fiddle for long enough. If I didn’t get going, my hands were going to become inflexible claws. Plus, how hard could it be? The fiddle is commonly played by countryfolk by ear, and you see even little children wailing away on violins.
 
Fast forward past the commitment of buying a violin and a sustained period of caterwauling that caught the attention of local tomcats, past the perpetual state of terror at lessons, a badly inflamed shoulder, unending frustration, and constant tweaking of violin, shoulder rest, chin rest, bow to find a position where my instrument felt even quasi-comfortable. It would be lovely to sugarcoat just how miserably trying this beginning period was. It was by sheer dogged determination that I survived. My bowing was crooked (it looked straight to me, but such is parallax), sliding towards the fingerboard, which created an awful tone. My bow (right) elbow was all over the map instead of steadily in position for the string being played, so I “string-crossed,” or hit more than one string at one time. This can be done by design; mine wasn’t. (Think donkey braying noises.) My bow bounced off the string when I lowered it to play. I could only reach the top two strings (E, A) with my left (violin) hand and I had absolutely no idea how violinists got all twisted around to reach much less play the D string and the bottom (G) string. My left shoulder and back ached to the point where I had to stop entirely for a few months and get physiotherapy to repair the tense, weak, underused muscles I needed to build. So, the first hurdles were painfully physical.
 
My teacher, Lucia, was understanding. “No one is born playing the violin,” she would say. There was a learning curve just to holding the instrument. But there was also a focus hurdle. I wanted to learn to play the instrument, and my teacher did her best to guide me. On her advice, I bought a learner book. But my agenda was vague and unhurried. I would practice the same songs again and again, and sound just as bad as the last time I played them. I was mystified how violinists found the exact notes on an unfretted instrument when there seemed to be so much room for error. Practice was demotivating to say the least. After several months, I could feel my teacher’s impatience as she tried to move me ahead in my learner book to attempt a simple jig. I crumbled. I couldn’t tell where those high notes were and jumping up two strings from the D, which I could finally reach, was taxing. I would practice and hate every moment.
 
And then Covid-19 hit and life came to a grinding halt. I stopped playing.
 
Looking back, I now see two glaring problems I faced during that first unproductive period:
 

• I lacked a systematic curricular program that had:
  • progressive technical exercises to build my strength and accuracy,
  • ear training, so I could hear the notes and distances between them on a scale,
  • basic music theory to understand how scales are organized on a violin, and
  • repertoire appropriate to my technical development. (At one point, I decided the first violin part of Pachelbel’s Canon in D would be easy enough to learn. Only now as I prepare for my grade four examination do I see that this piece requires at least grade five technical expertise to competently play seven and eight note slurs beautifully. You just don’t know what you don’t know!)
• I lacked the physical (and mental!) strength to play for more than a half hour, so my practice was not only unfocused but short.

 
I was horribly disillusioned. Monitoring my increasing disheartenment at plowing through my beginner book, my husband made a sensible, informed suggestion: sign up for an examinable music program. So I did.

Learning to play a musical instrument, even at an elementary level, is going to take effort and persistence. Any activity that helps you to maintain your enthusiasm should be welcomed. Here are five ways I assist myself. You might think up your own list.

1. My practice space is organized because I’ve made it easy to practice by removing the friction that disorder causes.
2. I don’t call it practice; I call it “fooling around with what the teacher showed me” time. I’ve flipped the childish mindset of solitary practice as punishment to as solitary practice as “me time.” In short, a reward.
3. I attend concerts and watch world class musicians perform.
4. Over the years I’ve attended summer music camp and workshops for adults. I attended my first at age 13 and my latest at age 64. That’s over fifty years of fun and learning from world class musicians and other keeners such as myself.
5. I’ve practice partners whom I met up with each week. We cheer each other on. 

Both programs and institutions were similar in size, scope, and purpose, aiming to cultivate professional musicians and capable teachers.

At Berklee, I majored in jazz composition, a creative and intellectually stimulating pursuit. The music courses were fascinating, yet not excessively challenging. In contrast, the Royal Conservatory of Music (RCM) provided an intensely physical experience that pushed my endurance, bravery, and self-awareness. My prior professional experience facilitated my success at Berklee. However, classical piano was a new, disciplined practice for me and proved to be quite challenging.

Berklee equipped me to be a professional musician, and I still apply those skills. It encouraged creative exploration, leading to various self-driven projects. At RCM, the focus was on skill and proficiency rather than creativity. For the first time, I adhered strictly to instructions and was accountable for the results, which helped me realize my potential as both a pianist and a teacher.

Creativity may appear effortless when judged by oneself. Yet, attaining a level of performance that satisfies an independent jury is demanding. Berklee was manageable, but RCM presented the real challenge.

If you need advice on either path, please reach out to me.

David

Update 2024
I am currently studying percussion instruments with Rick Dior, including the jazz vibraphone, snare drum, drum kit, mallet percussion, tambourine, triangle, and cymbals. His assignments are more demanding than those at RCM, given my age and time constraints. Nevertheless, I am making significant progress through dedicated daily practice, two weekly band rehearsals, and several performances each month.

Zoom whiteboard notes from a piano student's lesson

A student asked me questions on practicing. Do I practice every day, how long do I practice, when do I practice, what do I practice? How do I keep my enthusiasm for drumming year after year? Here are my answers. 

As many people know, I took up the drums at age 50 after an adult student challenged me by saying I had no idea how difficult it was to learn as an older adult. I took the challenge.  So, this blog is about my percussion practicing. (When my musical colleagues ask why I started drumming I tell a more colourful story that involves my misperception that drumming would be a cheaper mid-life crisis solution than buying a red sports car.)

1. I have a prepared practice space. Everything is organised and ready to go. I don't have to search around for anything. In short, I've removed the friction of a sloppy disorganised practice space. 
2. I understand and accept the difference between practicing and playing. I play music with my friends. In the practice studio I build skill and solve problems. 
3. This week, from the Metropolitan Silver Band, I received more than a dozen new pieces to learn in short order. My first step is to separate the music into two piles. Pile one I can sightread and will not be practiced. Pile two requires some work which I divide it into two further piles, music that requires a few minutes and then it's good to go and the terrifying pile. 
4. I listen to recordings of the terrifying pile so that I have a clear understanding of how the music should sound, then I get to work. When practicing music for my lessons, with symphonic percussionist Rick Dior, I carefully review my lesson notes from the Zoom video and follow his instructions.
5. All difficult music is chunked or learned in small sections. I practice very slowly with the metronome carefully playing with the correct dynamics, stickings, and articulations shown. I make note of the tempo that I can play accurately and the date on the top of the page. I want to practice slow enough not to make errors. Each day I move the tempo up by one or two BPMs. Other exercises are chop builders which need extended repetitions at loud volumes and fast tempos. 
6. I record my practicing, in various ways, in order to work in a "kind environment", that is, one in which feedback is quick and accurate. On the drum pad I use a metronome and listen carefully. On the electronic drum kit, I utilise a metronome app that every 32 measures scores me 1 to 100. I aim for 98% plus, which I can do if I build the passage or piece slowly and patiently. At band practices and lessons, I record everything on either audio or video. On my early morning walks and in the car, I listen to these recordings. 
7. I occasionally revisit old audio recordings to hear my progress. This week I listened to a performance from 2016. My wife said, "jeez you've improved."
8. I belong to supportive a musical communities: The Metropolitan Silver Band and The Kerr Street Big Band. For fifteen summers, in four countries, I've attended jazz and drum workshops. All these communities are full of keeners like me. 
9. I seek outside assessment. Both bands are run by conductors who don't let anything slip by. Also, I receive regular feedback from my teacher Rick Dior. The summer workshops are 24/7 feedback loops from fellow musicians and world class musicians. (I've learned to be humble.)
10. Do I practice everyday? I only practice 6 days a week.
11. How long do I practice? Eight to 10 hours a week on the kit, 4-5 hours of listening and evaluating my progress, two or more hours listening to and analyzing the playing of others, 1 hour reading about drumming in the "library", and an hour or two a week watching YouTube videos. Plus, I teach drumming a few hours a week.
12. What do I practice? See steps 2 through 6.
13. How I stay enthusiastic is no mystery. I love playing the drums as much I as love playing the piano. I love the ballet of 4 independently moving limbs. I love making music with my friends. I love drummers (they are different from pianists). I love the thrill and positive feedback of performing with and for others. I appreciate how it helps me identify with my piano students who are on a similar journey. I love where drumming has taken me: New Orleans jazz clubs like Preservation Hall, outdoor concerts under a summer moon in Rome Italy, Polish and American Jazz Clubs, the lists goes on and on. 

If I can help and encourage you on your musical journey, call me. 

David aka "sticks Story"
PS. I now cart my drums around in a red Cadillac. Not quite a sports car, but more drummer friendly. 
 

I teach many retired professionals, including former musicians and beginners, all of whom show great enthusiasm. I've identified key traits of my most successful students to guide you in your considerations.

The most dedicated students often start their lessons before retirement. Here’s a brief personel story: As I approach retirement, I too have many dreams for this next chapter. A wise mentor once suggested I test these dreams before retiring, as some might not live up to my expectations. They were right; I discovered that certain dreams were unfulfilling or impractical. Consequently, I’ve narrowed my focus to two main aspirations: mastering the drums and completing my humanities degree. I plan to spend my remaining time exercising, enjoying quality moments with my spouse, teaching part-time, and socializing with friends. 

Successful students prioritize practice. If your first year of retirement will be filled with travel, it might not be the best time to start piano lessons; the second year tends to be more favorable.

Additionally, successful students manage their expectations. With consistent practice, beautiful playing can be achieved relatively quickly, while more complex pieces require years of dedication. It’s similar to martial arts—earning a black belt takes time.

These students trust the process, knowing there are no hidden tricks to mastering the piano; the curriculum has been well-established. Another short story, in my forties, I dedicated myself to classical piano, achieving my Grade 10 and ARCT diplomas by following my teachers’ guidance meticulously. The results were remarkable, and they can be for you as well.

Engaging with music beyond the classroom is another hallmark of successful students. They often sight-read pieces that resonate with them. They also attend concerts featuring the musical genre(s) they wish to learn. For instance, my wife and I will be attending a performance by Sir András Schiff today. The audience will be filled with pianists and learners of all ages, who will surely leave inspired to rush home and practice.

If I can assist you in your dream of playing the piano, please call me.

David  
Revised 2024

I wish these apps had been available when I started playing piano as I was not a gifted ear player. In fact, I struggled. On top of this my teachers didn't stress aural development either because they were readers first. So, my development was glacial. Thankfully, things have changed. 

How did I develop my aural skills? In college I was given proper ear training. Later, I took up the drums, learned countless tunes by ear, and wrote them down. For the last decade I've been teaching online where I don't always see students' hands clearly. My ear has learned to hear individual notes out of place. 

If I can help you, call me. 

​David
revised 2024

What an exciting time of learning. I was able to experience live coding, VR sound, Ai developments in musical education and more under the direction of young and exciting researchers. It was just what an old goat needed, some fresh ideas. 

One thing that did strike me was how dated the synthesizer music was. The young musicians were in the thrall of the 1990s. That took me by surprise. 

The walk from downtown to Napier University was lovely and peaceful. 

I've been attending concerts for over half a century. That's a lot of concerts. Many have been completely forgotten, a few others can be recalled with some sort of prompt, and a small number remained seared in my mind. I counted seven concerts that changed me in some significant way. Here's the story of those concerts. 

1. Cecil Taylor, Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto, late 1978. He brought his unit. I remember a drummer and a saxophonist. Again, a packed club. I had tickets to both shows. I retreated to a coffee shop after the first show, unable to go on. I was overwhelmed. It was my first experience with musical greatness.
2. Bill Evans, Jazz Workshop, Boston, 1978. I saw Evans twice. Both times I arrived early and got the seat closest to the piano. It was of course wonderful. I still have the autographs of the band in my copy of the Bill Evans songbook. It took decades to overcome the influence of those two shows on my piano playing. Lesson? Who we listen to will determine how we will play.
3. Steve Reich, Bottom Line, New York City, 1979. The club was packed with enthusiastic supporters. I didn’t have the foggiest notion of who he was, what the music was going to sound like, in fact, I can’t remember how I even ended up there. But there I was. Nexus, the percussion ensemble was set up and ready to go. Reich came out, the festivities began. I was completely and totally baffled. People were going nuts; it was like a rock show except the music was 1970s era New York City loft music. I remember being angry. This was my first experience with my limitations as a listener. I was criticizing art I didn’t understand. Yes, I was a teenage philistine.
4. Vladimir Horowitz, Symphony Hall, Boston, 1980s. Electric is the only word to describe it. It was beautiful, people cried, he played and played and played. He shaped every single note. Years later I earned my ARCT in piano pedagogy with the sound of that experience still ringing in my ears.
5. Miles Davis, Kix club, Boston early 1981. Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams, Ron Carter, and Wynton Marcellas sat in the front row. Miles came out with Bill Evans (sax of course), Mike Stern, Al Foster, and a bassist I don’t remember. Miles played trumpet and synthesizer. The place lost its mind. I was screaming like a 12-year-old at a Sky dome show.
6. Canadian Opera Company, "Wozzeck", Hummingbird Centre, Toronto, 2006. I went with a group of fellow artists. At the end of the performance, we sat in stunned silence. It was the saddest, cruelest, most pathetic story ever put to song. Horowitz taught me the limits of beauty, Berg, the other side. It was devastating.
7. Berlin Philharmonic, Roy Thompson Hall, 2016. Sir Simon Rattle at the baton. The first half was a mélange of Schonberg, Webern, and Berg. The second half was a Brahms symphony. During the 12-tone half, the guy beside me was humming along. If you know the music, you’ll understand how remarkable that is, and how funny. During the Brahms there was a pizzicato section. It sounded like a giant classical guitar. What did I learn? I’m not the only one who likes 12 tone music. Second, I fully appreciate why this orchestra is considered the best in the world.

David

     "I have been a student with David for the past couple of years. While my primary instrument is Trumpet, I decided to take piano to broaden my knowledge. I have never had music theory, either in school or private lessons. David is taking me there through the piano. He assured me that all the skills I would learn through theory and practice on the piano were transferable to other instruments. David has a way of simplifying theory concepts, making them easier to understand. 
     I had an opportunity to play Trumpet at a private service recently. Playing completely solo - no other musicians. One piece happened to be the one David and I were working on. Everything we had done came into “play” and those skills I have learned completely transferred to my Trumpet and I played the best I have ever played. 
     When you ask yourself, “Do I really need to know this?” I can honestly say, Yes! and it pays off in performance quality."

Barb

Thank you, Barb. 

A New Student's Profile
 
The new student is a young professional with a keen interest in learning to play jazz piano. They took piano and trumpet lessons in high school. They have a basic understanding of music theory. Aural skills are excellent.

Their program will include the following components:

1. Learning several simple jazz melodies by ear. This will give them something to work with as they learn to improvise. And they won’t be simultaneously working on a tune and trying to improvise at the same time. Using their ears to learn the melodies from YouTube recordings will teach them to articulate the melodies in an idiomatic way because reading melodies from the fakebook never does. Jazz is an aural art form not a visual one. Come to think of it, so is Classical piano.
2. They have started learning, by rote, the sixty jazz chords: Major 7th, Dominant 7th, minor 7th, minor 7b5, and diminished 7th chords. These are the basis of jazz harmony and jazz improvisation.
3. I recommended that they revisit written piano music to keep their piano skills sharp because jazz piano is notorious for “killing” the left hand of pianists.
4. First tune up is C jam Blues. (You can view this part of the lesson for free. No strings attached.) They began learning the different interpretations of that famous melody. Along the way they heard simple licks the pianists put in the music. These licks, learned by ear, are the beginning of their library of idiomatic phrases for later use.

If I can help you, call me.
 
David 

I'm finishing my first year with the Toronto Concert Band and what a thrill it has been. From drum set to piano, xylophone to tympani it has been a journey of intense rehearsal, thrilling concerts, private practice, and fellowship.

At the upcoming concert I will be playing: 

1. Vibraphone
2. Finger cymbals
3. Xylophone
4. Tympani
5. Crash cymbal
6. Triangle
7. Sharker
8. Drum kit
9. Glockenspiel
10. And... cowbell, lots of cowbell

Come join us and say hi after the concert. 
​
When: June 10, 2023 @ 7:30 pm – 9:30 pm
Where: Glenn Gould Studio, 250 Front Street West

Tickets: 2023 Spring Concert - Toronto Concert Band 

Angela Hewitt shares her tactics, strategies, and stories on how she keeps her musical memory strong. It is interesting to note that musical conservatories, like the Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto, have developed curriculums that prepare the ground for developing and maintaining musical memory. 

1. Logical sequencing of material.
2. Repertoire that must be memorized.
3. Theoretical knowledge and application.
4. Foundational skills of techniques and etudes.
5. Historical knowledge
6. Aural skills.
7. Sightreading
8. Score study
9. Assessment

Link to the article: ‘Like sex and religion, we don’t like to talk about memory’: pianist Angela Hewitt on how she keeps hers in shape | Classical music | The Guardian

​The teacher practices Jazz
 
Last weekend I went to my first jazz jam with my Vibraphone aka my Malletkat GS Grand. We were a quartet of Tenor Sax/Flute, Vibes, Bass, and Drums. I survived with my dignity intact, but I’ve a few discoveries and confessions to share.

1. My skills on the piano are not necessarily transferable to the vibes.
2. My four-mallet chord playing will need further work.
3. I was unable to execute the solo lines I could hear in my head.

On the plus side, I knew all the tunes from years of playing and teaching jazz piano plus my jazz time and feel is strong.

Here is the practice regime I began to follow to improve my jazz experience.

Tune: Satin Doll by Ellington/Strayhorn

1. I practiced the melody, by ear, with the original recordings on YouTube. I discovered that after 45 years, that I’m dragging some notes. They are now corrected; I’m locked into the sax melody.  
2. I reviewed the piano licks played on the head by Duke Ellington.
3. I figured out bits of his piano solo.
4. I practiced all the broken chords like I instruct my students and I quickly discovered that this took a lot longer than I anticipated.
5. I practiced what I’ve learned by playing along on YouTube. 
6. I’m ready for another piece next week.  My goal is to learn a tune a week for 52 weeks. 
7. I'm continuing with my mallet study books to develop my manual skills. 

If I can help you with your jazz piano journey, call me. 

David

BTW: In the era of Ai content generation, a human wrote this blog. 

This week an adult student came to class in a state of agitation. They were frustrated that they didn't have time this week to practice, and they felt embarrassed.

Five things to consider.

1. You do this for fun.
2. Sometimes the only practice that week will be at lessons.
3. This is not a race.
4. You are not a child.
5. I gave guilt free piano lessons. 

I said, "John, think of this hour as an oasis without responsibilities". That worked, he had a fun lesson. He even sent a thank you email after class. 

David

From whiteboard notes and exercises I sent to students this week. 

​David

Super video demonstration but...

Let's consider the assumptions he is making about you the student/listener. 

1. You can play your instrument.
2. You have experience playing music in multiple keys. Though jazz is mostly in C, F, Bb, Eb, and Ab and related minor keys, he goes farther afield.
3. You can play jazz.
4. You can play by ear.
5. You are familiar with the seminal recordings he references.
6. You are familiar with the songs he is playing.
7. You understand musical rudiments, including key signatures, intervals, time signatures, transposition, cadences and much more. 
8. You have advanced solfege and piano skills so you can play bass lines and sing the melody over it.
9. You understand harmonic theory and are able execute chord progressions in time, with a beat, and use the appropriate jazz facial expressions.
10. You know of Ray Brown and his significance.
11. You understand following terms and their musical significance: melody, bass lines, transposition, diatonic, tonic, major 7th intervals, root-7 root-6 movement, Bebop shells 3rd and 7th, the tritone, 5ths, half-steps, interval inversions, 5 in the key of G, lineage of the tune (?), perfect 4ths, non-diatonic ii-Vs, half diminished, 3 of a key, original "changes", "Miles, " Ab7#11 chords, keys, closely related keys, major 3rds, major scales, circle of 5ths, root movements, ii-V of IV, bridge, "key of music."
12. In Peter’s defense, he offers practice suggestions around 9 minutes mark. 
13. On the other hand, as all Vloggers do, he downplays the complexity of what he is doing. Sigh.

What is my job?

I prepare students to understand and execute what he is talking about. The first thing we will do is assess your situation and then we'll draw up a logical plan. 

1. If needed, I will teach you to play your instrument. We will work through a solid canon of piano works that explore multiple keys. 
2. I will teach you to play jazz.
3. I will teach you to play by ear. Can you play jingle bells by ear? If so, great you are on your way. If not, I will help you get started. 
4. The most important jazz recordings. I will introduce you to 100+ years of jazz recordings. If your knowledge is a bit spotty, start here: The 100 Jazz Albums That Shook The World | Jazzwise and Double Time Top 100 Historically Significant Recordings article @ All About Jazz. It is important to note the absence of early jazz recordings on these listings. Jazz has a history spanning 3 centuries, but jazz education seems stuck in, at best, a 30-year period from 1945 to 65. The first list has a number a modern recordings from the last 40 years. 
5. I will help you get your theory together.
6. We will do solfege together. I use both moveable doh system and the number system. Solfege is widely taught in Europe, but unfortunately not so much in North America. 
7. We will study jazz harmony when you've got your theory together.
8. Ray Brown is an important bassist.
9. Working on steps one through nine will answer all the questions you may have from step 11 above.
10. I will teach you how to practice.
11. I will encourage you to get outside feedback and advice from other sources. 

Call me, 

David

BTW: in 2017, I studied with Peter Martin in Rome Italy at the ROMA Jazz Workshop. I was in Rome studying jazz drumming with Greg Hutchinson. Greg played in Ray Brown’s last group. ​Peter is a great guy and a very skilled musician. When I grow up, I want to play piano like him. 

Updated 2024

I started part-time teaching in 1982 and in 2007 I went full-time. That is a few generations of students that have passed through my studio. What have I learned?

1. Young children are capable of artistry.
2. Not everyone is teachable.
3. Talent is overrated. Most students don't work hard enough to discover if they have "talent". 
4. I don't believe in talent.
5. Preparing and taking piano exams is an efficient way to learn quickly and thoroughly to play the piano. 
6. You can start music at any age and succeed with the right attitude and realistic goals.
7. Successful students know what they want and why they want it. They've then put aside time and resources to get it.
8. Impatience is a music lesson killer.
9. A young adult trying to catch up to peers with a 10–15-year head start doesn’t understand how it works. That being said, I started piano in high school, and I’ve been a professional musician for 45 years. I didn’t catch up, but I did find my own way. 
10. There is a direct relationship between parental involvement and a child's success.
11. The Dunning Kruger effect is real. Successful students trust their teachers.

If I can help you get started, call me.

​David

​Another day in the teaching studio and another diverse set of pieces. Someone stated that an average piano teacher teaches 600+ titles a year. I believe it. 
​

1. Big My Secret from "The Piano" by Nyman. This was a dark moody start on a grey day. 
2. Glasgow Love theme by Armstrong
3. Sonata in G K283 by Mozart
4. October by Tchaikovsky
5. Sonata in A Major K 209 by Scarlatti 
6. Decadent Sentimental Song by Manzano

​Up next: Music rehearsal with my friends, the pianist Jim Finlayson and bassist Rory Slater. I'll be drumming. We've been meeting every 2 weeks for years. It is always a highlight of my week playing tunes from the "Great American Songbook". Lots of Porter, Corea, Hancock, and Ellington.

​Back to class

      7. Prelude in Db by Glière 
      8. Fantasia in D minor K397 by Mozart
      9. Pumpkin boogie by Faber
      10. Sonatina in C by Faber
       11. Drum rudimental warmups
       12. Never Going To Give You Up by Rick Ashley
       13. Theory class RCM 8 and Band Lab DAW

Now to the drummers

      14. Video game music
      15. 3/4 Scottish snare drum solo
      16. Free Fallin' by Tom Petty
      17. Rollin' in the deep by Adele
      18. Superstition by Stevie Wonder

Revised August 2022