I have known for a long time that I love to accompany. Growing up, I played duets with my brother, Christmas songs with my dad on clarinet, special music with the choir at church. The highlight of my college years was playing for the choirs, and my work post-graduation brought me much joy as I was able to collaborate with wonderful young singers.
I have also known for a long time that I love to teach. In middle school, I begged my teacher to let me start teaching piano lessons. By my freshman year, she had given in. In college, I TA-ed for theory and loved helping my students get excited about French Augmented 6th chords and figured bass. After graduation, I found great joy in making my 8:00 AM piano class as fun as possible.
When I came to Peabody, I was curious to see how those two worlds would intersect. I had studied piano pedagogy at Whitworth, but I was interested to learn more about accompanying pedagogy. This inspired me to ask my teacher if I could observe a section of her undergraduate accompanying class. I was excited to see how she took your average piano performance major and helped them learn how to collaborate with a singer.
It was a great semester. I loved getting to watch her work. I was fascinated by her intentional choice of songs, and the specific skills she hoped to develop in her students through each piece. I was awed by her ability to decipher the problems in students' performances and help facilitate a solution. And as always, I was inspired by her energy - her enthusiasm for the poetry, the music, the important role of the accompanist.
I was looking forward to observing again this semester, but I was not prepared for the events of this week.
My teacher was out sick over the weekend. She had planned to come back early this week, but wasn't able to return until Wednesday. So, late Monday night, she called to ask what I was doing Tuesday morning.
Would I be willing to teach two sections of her class?
Is the sky blue?
YES.
She spent a half an hour giving me a lesson plan over the phone, walking through the two songs they had been assigned. We talked about the poetry, the word stresses - she sang a line here and there and pointed out where the breaths were. Highlighting the specific challenges of each piece, she identified the most common mistakes that the pianist makes. I took notes as fast and furiously as I possibly could.
And, twelve hours later, there I was. Called up from the minors. Batting in the major leagues.
I loved every second of it. Analyzing the poetry. Uncovering the composer's genius in the duet between the piano and vocal lines. Watching the dawning of understanding light up the eyes of my students.
The two hours flew by. And each passing moment confirmed what I had felt in my gut for awhile:
this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. My teacher laughed when I told her that I wanted her job..."I should go on vacation more often!"
My friend Eric saw me shortly after I finished teaching, and as I reflected on the experience a few days later, he interrupted me:
"Mary, you were glowing."
What a gift to start this last semester in this way. In my final push to the finish line...to have this boost of energy, this wonderful affirmation that I am in the right place, studying the right subject, walking in the right direction.
I got to try on the shoes. And they fit very well. Of course, my feet will need to grow a bit more.
But I can hardly wait to put them on again.
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