I had other role models as well. My father took me to the tabernacle on
several occasions. I remember sitting in
the balcony overlooking the organ and watching Alexander Schreiner play the
organ. On one particular occasion, he
was accompanying the tabernacle choir as they sang the Hallelujah Chorus from
Handel’s Messiah. His feet were a blur
at one point in the piece, they moved so quickly from one pedal to the
next. Alexander Schreiner became one of
my heroes. I started to attend organ
recitals at the Salt Lake tabernacle often, just so I could watch Alexander
Schreiner play. I saw him once sitting
in a church meeting. From where I was
seated, I could see his hands. They were
beautiful, with long, slender fingers. I
was so awe-struck, just looking at his hands and knowing what those hands could
do.
When I was about four years old, my father taught me to play
“Peter, Peter, Pumpkin-Eater” on the black keys of the piano. That was so much fun. Then he did something that just blew me
away. He took a pencil and wrote the names
of the notes right on the white keys of our old Wurlitzer. He actually dared to write on the piano keys. I was startled and amazed and a little
worried that my mom would find out. I
was quite relieved when he wiped the pencil off the keys a few minutes later,
leaving no evidence of his crime. In
this one fun-filled first lesson, my joy of playing had commenced, without even
having learned to read music.
When I started official piano lessons at around age six, my
father made me feel that my piano playing was exceptional, that I was extraordinary. He told me often that I had an unusual
talent. He even predicted that I would
make money off my music one day. As a
five-year-old, the money thing didn’t make any sense to me. I was, however, intrigued that playing the
piano could be worth something tangible like money. And he was right. I have made money from the piano through
teaching, performing, accompanying, composing and so forth.
What else did my parents do that motivated me to want to
practice? What did my extremely busy father
and equally busy mother do to help me gain a burning desire to play this wonderful
instrument?
First of all, they gave me their time. My dad often came into the piano room and sat
down and just listened to me play. Now my
dad was a busy man. He had five children
when I started piano lessons. And on top
of that, he was a bishop (the leader of the local congregation). He also managed a business. But yet there he was, sitting and listening
to me play the piano. My mother was
always there to answer my questions. And
she continued to play the piano herself, whetting my appetite to improve.
I remember on several occasions, my father praised me in
front of my siblings for the time I spent developing my talent. That meant a lot to me, to be praised publicly
for my efforts.
My parents gave me encouragement. They never criticized my playing. They didn’t ever mention my mistakes. They didn’t try to correct me. They let my teacher do that. They just encouraged me.
They gave me opportunities to play. I recall playing a Christmas hymn at a ward
(church) Christmas party. I felt like I
was the star of the evening, this little kid playing a grown-up hymn from the hymnbook
in front of lots of other people. Whenever
people came to visit I was often asked to play for them, even though I didn’t
always want to play for them.
My mother was my inspiration and role model, but it seems
that the encouragement came mostly from my father. He wasn’t a great musician. But he was very musical. He loved music. He would often “conduct” recordings of
classical music. He played the piano a
little, but not very much. Maybe his
love of music rubbed off on me a little, because I absolutely love music. I love listening to it, I love playing it,
and I love creating it.
As I became more proficient at the piano, I began to realize
that my music could bring joy into the lives of others. When my mother-in-law visited our home, she always
(and I mean always) asked me to play “Claire de Lune” by Debussy for her. She loved it.
It brought tears to her eyes and peace to her soul. I have played that beautiful piece at care
centers. Older folk have come up to me
afterward in tears and thanked me for playing it. Bringing joy to others is addictive. It makes me want to do it again.
I have been blessed in my life with several wonderful piano
instructors. My father gave me my first
informal lessons on the piano. Mr. Webb
was my first paid teacher. He was
followed by Hildred Foster. They both
were well known in the community for their excellent piano and organ playing
abilities. Mrs. Foster used to play the
organ for the old silent movies in your youth.
Later I studied with Dr. Bonnie Winterton at the University of
Utah. She changed my life. She wasn’t cheap, but she was worth every
dollar that was spent. Can one really
put a price on something like a great teacher? Dr. Winterton not only taught me
to play well, but also taught me life lessons such as being willing to use my
talents to provide service in the community and church. I remember leaving her lessons being so
excited to get home and work on the things she had taught me. I couldn’t wait to practice. And now when I’m asked to play, I play. I play even when it isn’t convenient to put
in the practice time. I try to remember
how blessed I am to have this talent to play.
Bonnie Winterton instilled in me a desire to use my talent (such as it
is) to bless the lives of other people.
I’m not the world’s greatest pianist by any means, but in my community I
can bless lives with my music.
I remember sitting in a meeting once as a young teenager,
and watching someone get up to sing and realizing their accompanist wasn’t
there. I watched in amazement as a
musician in the congregation got up and sight-read the accompaniment for the
singer. This was another role model
moment for me. I wanted to read and play
well enough to be able to do that. Later
in life, I have had opportunities to do just that. I recall sitting once again in a church
meeting, seeing a young lady get up to sing, and seeing the somewhat frightened
look on her face when she realized her accompanist had not shown up. She asked someone in the congregation to come
up and play for her. This person looked
at the music and declined. Someone then
said, “Ask Kevin Pace.” So I got up and
played it. How liberating and joyful that
moment was, to be able to fill a need like that with no prior warning. That is true freedom, to be able to act when
many others cannot.
So, how do these stories from my youth help you? What can you do to encourage your child in
music lessons? How can you help your
child discover a love for making music at the piano?
Consider the following ideas:
1. Role models provide inspiration and motivation. How do you do that? How do you provide role models and inspiration
for your child? You don’t have to have a
musician in the house to provide role models or inspiration. You can take your child to concerts, where
they can see real pianists up close. You
can have relatives or friends play mini-concerts for your child. There are many ways you can provide
inspiration for your child. Just keep
your eyes and ears open for opportunities in the community to see a pianist or
organist in action.
2. Time. Be sure to spend lots of time listening to your
child play the piano. I know you’re
busy. But children generally don’t like
to sit alone for periods of time. They
like to have interaction with people. So listen to them play, sing the lyrics
of the songs they are playing, dance to their music, make it fun.
3. Encourage and praise.
Don’t criticize. They don’t make
the mistakes on purpose. They are
learning. Tell them it’s okay to make mistakes; that we can learn from them. Because
we are all human, we all make mistakes.
Hopefully the teacher is providing techniques to lessen the mistakes,
such as practicing small sections, slowly and carefully. But your job is to encourage.
4. Performance opportunities. Have your child play for relatives and
friends. Hopefully your child’s teacher
will have recitals where they can experience the terror, joy, and ultimate
exhilaration of public performance.
Always tell them how well they did or at least encourage them to keep
trying if they didn’t do so well. I
often tell my students about the times when I was first accompanying the
congregational singing in church at the age of 12 and how I would often mess
up, but I kept trying. I didn’t give up
because I made mistakes.
5. Provide joyful experiences. Have them play for nursing homes, or for grandparents. Grandparents (generally) love to hear their
grandchildren play the piano. And they
love to pour out the praise. And it really
does bring joy into the life of the grandparent. Be sure to point that out, that their playing
brought joy into someone’s life.
6. Help your children develop a love for music. Play recordings for them, play the piano for
them, talk about it with them, find out what they like. (Just not rap, anything but rap. Besides, it’s really hard to play rap on the
piano.)
7. Discuss the idea
of freedom often with your children. When
a skill is developed, it makes one freer to act and do things that others are
not free to do.
8. Of course, make sure your child has a great teacher. A great teacher can inspire and motivate. A great teacher can make lessons and practice
fun by providing fun material to practice, by playing duets with the student,
and in so many other ways. I listened in
horror once as a woman told me a story of her piano teacher hitting her hands
with a ruler when she made mistakes. How
unthinkable is that? Find a teacher that
will inspire your child. A great teacher
should be a role model. A great teacher
should be in the community performing.
A great teacher should give your child many opportunities to perform in
various settings, like recitals, care centers, etc. A great teacher will probably not be the
cheapest in the neighborhood, but who can really put a price on a great
educational experience.
There are many other things you can do of course. Placement of the piano away from the TV, good
lighting, having a good piano, having your piano tuned, etc. are all important
things to do.
To conclude, I must say that I’m not writing this because I
was the perfect parent and that I didn’t ever lose my patience, or that I was
always positive with my children, because I wasn’t. I wish I had been a better parent, but I did
try. I am writing this with the ideal in
mind. I am writing this because, during
my almost 40 years of teaching, I have learned that these things work. These are
things that work. Practice them and
you’ll get better at them. Your children
will thank you for it.
