[Snowden-Montague] That's nothing, you should hear me play piano (basic piano)

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Timestamp: End of Ioannes, Summer Era XIV PF

Val had always enjoyed music, but that didn't mean she'd planned on becoming a musician. But she was in Daltina, and what else was a bored noveau riche girl to do? Besides, you know, checking the area to see if there was anyone that she was supposed to assassinate close at hand. Or practicing her weapons skills. Or pontificating about the futility of life.

Anyway, she had left Umbrosus outside to lurk in the shadows around the school. She was fairly certain that becoming a young lady didn't involve trailing around pony-sized dogs, and even if she was rather attached to this one, its presence would probably antagonize her teacher.

She came to her appointed room and found the door open. Inside, someone was playing an impressive-sounding piece on a large, expensive piano. The figure turned at the sound of Val's footsteps. It was a human woman, wearing a beautiful pink dress. She didn't look to be much older than twenty-five, and she gave Val a disapproving expression.

"You're on time, Miss Haema," she said, "but you don't much look like an accomplished young lady."

Val wasn't sure how much of that was related to her race, and how much of it was a reflection on her normal jagged skirt/lace-sleeved blouse combination. But she elected to hold her temper. "That's...that's why I'm taking classes, ma'am," she said, though it was not altogether truthful.

Nonetheless, the answer seemed to satisfy the woman. "Come in, and sit down at the bench," she said with a nod. "I'm Miss Juliette Uxbridge, and I'm going to be your piano instructor. I take it you have no prior musical training?"

"No, ma'am," Val replied.

"Ah, then we have our work cut out for us. But let's begin, shall we?"

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

"The first thing for you to understand," Miss Juliette Uxbridge said, "is the basic layout of the keyboard. You'll note that the keys are arranged in a repeating pattern. Each key plays the same note as its corresponding keys in the other pattern groups, only at a higher or lower pitch. You'll see that this note, an A, sounds just like any other A, with the sole difference that it's lower than the others." Miss Uxbridge demonstrated this.

"The white keys are given letter designations. This one is an A, and then B, C, D, E, F, G, and, since the pattern is now repeating, A again. We'll talk about the black keys momentarily, but see if you can get that for now. Play me a C."

Val, who had been paying careful attention, instantly did so.

"That's correct." Miss Uxbridge nodded. "Now, you'll need to be learning how to read music." She placed a sheet of music on the piano in front of Val. "Each note on the keyboard correlates to a line or a space on one of these two sets of lines, or staffs. This note," the instructor added, pressing a key, "is called Middle C. It's represented by a note on a line placed in between the staffs. The notes above it are placed in order on a staff with a treble clef -- that thing that looks kind of like a G -- and the notes below are placed in order on a bass clef, which looks like an upside-down fishhook. Are you getting all this, Miss Haema?"

"Yes ma'am," Val said, which was the truth. It was a system that made sense to her, and she was following along just fine.

"Good," replied Miss Uxbridge.

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

"What the notes look like determines how long you play them for -- after all, that's what music is, melody and rhythm. Music is felt in beats. A whole note, which looks like a hollow circle, lasts for four beats. A half note, which has the hollow circle but with a stem on the side, lasts two beats. A quarter note, which has a filled-in circle and a stem, lasts one. If it has a flag on the stem, it's an eighth note, which lasts half a beat. Two flags is a sixteenth note, and so on. Does that make sense?"

"Yes ma'am," Val said quickly.

Miss Uxbridge seemed to sense that Val was a quick student, for instead of belaboring the point, she simply went on. "At the beginning of the a piece of music, you'll note two numbers on top of each other. This is the 'time signature' of the piece. The top note tells you what grouping to count the beats in. There's a big difference between groups of three and groups of four." She demonstrated this by tapping her hand against her leg; Val heard the difference and nodded. "The bottom number tells you what note to count as the beat. Usually it's a four, which indicates that you feel the quarter note as the pulse. Sometimes though you'll see an eight or a two." Val was still nodding, and so Miss Uxbridge added, "These thin lines divide the music into the appropriate groups -- the space in between the lines is called a 'measure.'"

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

"There's one more critical thing for you to know about the music before we actually start playing," Miss Uxbridge said. "You'll notice that we haven't placed the black keys on the staff yet. There's a symbol called a sharp -- it looks like a tic-tac-toe board. It raises the note by a half-step -- one key to the right. There's also one called a flat -- it looks like a little 'b,' and it does just the opposite, moving the note one key to the left."

She cleared her throat. "There are two ways you can use this symbol. Sometimes, the composer will want to alter every one of a given note in the piece -- maybe she wants every 'f' to be an 'f-sharp.' In that case, she would write at the very beginning of the piece, next to the clefs, in what's called the key signature, a sharp sign on the f-line, and then every 'f' in the piece would be played as a sharp. If, on the other hand, she only wants to change one given 'f,' she simply puts the sharp sign in front of that particular note -- if the note is repeated in the same measure, it remains sharp, but beyond that, it's simply played as a regular 'f.' If, in the first instance, the composer comes across a certain note that she wants to be played un-sharped, she'd write this boxy symbol called a natural, which indicates that this note is to be played unadulterated."

The look in her eyes indicated that she was almost challenging Val to keep up with the flow of information, but this was the sort of setting in which Val excelled, and the half-vysstichi girl gave a solemn, intense nod. "Yes, ma'am."

This gesture seemed to satisfy Miss Uxbridge. "Very well then, Miss Haema. Go home, remember this information, and tomorrow we'll begin your actual work at the keyboard."

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

When Val came back the next brightening, she greeted her teacher and then sat down at the piano, waiting for more instruction.

"To start with," Miss Uxbridge said, "you'll want to know how to hold yourself. Arms out, elbows a bit bent, wrists straight, fingers curved, almost as if you were holding a grapefruit." She demonstrated, and then allowed Val to try the posture for herself. It felt unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.

"First, you'll need to learn scales. I have them written out for you, one starting on each of the twelve notes. Fingering is written out for you as well -- 1 is your thumb, and 5 is your pinkie. I want you to try your hands at each of them, straight quarter notes, not too fast at first. Scales are the foundation of music. If you can't play them, you won't be able to play anything else properly." Again, there was a faintly challenging tone in Miss Uxbridge's voice, as if she expected Val to express unhappiness or rebellion.

Val did nothing of the kind, however. She nodded politely, and then set to work. It was difficult, and the keys felt strange beneath her fingers. Several times, Miss Uxbridge corrected her posture, her pacing, and her dynamics. Val persisted with a sort of grim determination, concentrating on the notes and the patterns until she felt her stare had worn a hole through the paper. Almost despite herself, Miss Uxbridge was impressed with her student's dedication.

"You're getting it," the instructor said at length. "Just remember -- music isn't just perfection, it's joy too. You'll see that as we work on actual pieces. But for now, I'll see you next brightening."

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Joy.

It wasn't a word that Val thought about very much, but it weighed heavily on her mind as she came to class the next day. Miss Uxbridge started her off with more scales, correcting Val when she went off tempo or started to bend her wrists. Then, after some time, she placed another sheet of music on the piano.

"It's called the Spring Waltz. It sounds nice, but it's not especially challenging." Her face softened a bit. "It's fun to play. It's happy. Try the right hand alone, and then the left hand alone. If that goes well, you can try them together."

Val focused on the task. She made it through the right hand, the left, again, then together. Miss Uxbridge didn't have much to say, actually, until the last notes had died away.

"It'll be faster, eventually, but that's excellent work. Technically, anyway. It sounds like you're working in a sweatshop, though, or maybe going to a funeral. Remember, Miss Haema, joy."

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

The next brightenings proceeded the same way. Greetings, scales, practice, joy. Miss Uxbridge was impressed by Val's ability to pick up the techniques and skills, but she continued to ask her student about the feeling in the music.

"You're not an automaton, Miss Haema," Miss Uxbridge said gently. "Your technical ability is very good for a beginner. I can see it. You don't need to somehow prove it to me. Don't think about me, or focus on the mechanics. Think about the music. Feel the music."

Val tried, she really did. Feeling didn't come easily to her. But she tried to lose herself in the music, to forget all of the baggage that she brought to the keyboard and simply pay attention to the beauty of the sound. The joy of the sound.

"Better, Miss Haema," Miss Uxbridge said. "Not perfect, but that was worlds better than anything else. For a moment, it sounded like a person was actually playing it." Her smile made the words more gentle than they otherwise would have been. Miss Uxbridge didn't like vysstichi as a general rule, but there was something about Val's surreal dedication, as well as her obvious melancholy, that removed at least the worst of that feeling.

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Brightenings passed into one another. Miss Uxbridge gave Valanthia a small book with the title Five Easy Piano Pieces on it, and together they worked through the music in it. Always, the biggest concern was Val's ability to put emotion into the music; the other aspects, Val grasped intuitively, and though her technique was far from perfect, she moved ahead rapidly.

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

On the final brightening of the class, Val walked into the room and was greeted, not only by Miss Uxbridge, but by a thin-lipped, unsmiling woman in a severe black dress. "Miss Haema, his is Miss Northrop," Miss Uxbridge said. "As the last part of your introductory lessons, I'd like for you to play a piece for her. Learning to play for an audience is an important part of a young lady's education," she added with a nod.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Northrop," Val said, dropping a formal curtsey. Then she sat down at the bench and took a deep breath. The Spring Waltz was still the piece that she knew the best, and so she turned to that page in the book. She checked her posture, positioned her hands, and then launched into the music.

She knew the notes almost by heart, and finding them was not a challenge. Finding the joy in the piece, however, required serious effort. She tried to make the eighth notes sound like sunlight, to turn the bass notes into a puppy's footsteps. Her face was screwed up in concentration.

At last, the ending cadence died away. Val stood, a bit nervously, awaiting the reaction. There was none at first, and then Miss Northrop nodded slightly.

"Technically, she's as good as you advertised," she said, speaking not to Val but to Miss Uxbridge. "Phrasing needs work. Too stiff, not enough feel. And she needs not to make that horrible face while she's playing." The woman made a clucking sound. "Nonetheless, it's certainly good enough to pass the class."

It seemed to be Val's turn to speak, and so she curtseyed again. "Thank you," she said.

"Nice work, Miss Haema," Miss Uxbridge said. "Remember what Miss Northrop said, and work on those areas. Keep practicing, and I hope to see you again soon."

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

Val picked up her book, thanked Miss Uxbridge, and left the room. She wished she'd gotten a slightly better review from Miss Northrop, but she had a feeling that Miss Northrop wasn't exactly a fountain of compliments, regardless of who was doing the playing.

After Val exited the building, she collected Umbrosus, and together they walked away. "It went well," she said to him quietly, and though he didn't say anything in return, she could feel that her success made him happy.

Now, there were other things to think about. For one thing, she had a letter to write...

[Gossamer]

Basic Piano Approved + 2 XP

I gave you comments in person. :P