Fame

When did I know I was not going to be a professional musician? Strangely, considering all the time and effort I put into perfecting my craft as a solo pianist over the course of my youth, I don't remember a time when I thought I actually would become a professional musician. And yet the pursuit shaped my whole childhood. Why?

Watching Fame in the movie theater tonight, my life as a semi-professional child in New York City played as a subconscious reel simultaneous with the feature film. For years, my fun get-to-know-you fact at school and then work functions was that I had performed on every stage at Lincoln Center by the time I was twelve years old: dancing with the School of American Ballet and singing with the Metropolitan Opera Children's Chorus put me on the three main stages, and later, I checked off the halls of the Juilliard School while enrolled in the conservatory's pre-college program. Yet I never had the drive to make music the only thing in my life like the kids in the movie have, or like some of the children I performed with had. 

How could I tell? There were lots of telling moments along the way: feeling sick to my stomach outside the soundproof practice module before a competition, waiting in line to warm up as my scheduled performance time approached; crying in the car after my arch rival won first place and I had forgotten the entire left hand in my own performance; observing the 16-year-old Korean boy in my weekly master class who had left his parents and moved to New York alone to pursue his craft. There were also moments of feeling on top of the world, like I had conquered something so amazing everything else would be easy: performing the Beethoven 1st piano concerto with a full orchestra behind me; accompanying varied and passionate singers throughout college; playing the Weber trio in Bridgeport, CT; nailing my final solo concert the day of college graduation. Each of these was a highlight in my life, worth every moment of sweat and tears.

So even though I always knew a professional solo piano career wasn't for me, I didn't do it for the destination. I did it for the journey. I had the opportunity recently to visit with my most influential piano teacher from my childhood. I had always thought she hoped one of her students was going to make her revered and famous, and I felt a twinge of guilt that it hadn't been me. "I don't care what my students do when they grow up," she told me recently. "Nothing in your childhood could have given you the discipline, the confidence and the sense of hard work that you got from studying the piano. I helped make you a better person."

The world of young performing artists is electrifying, oozing talent and lathered with hope. It is also a laboratory in which determination is tested and ambition is the catalyst for any reaction. It was statistically not possible for all of those I grew up with to "make it", but it was sure worth trying.

Comments

[Diana B. Anderson]

I was lucky enough to participate in many of the events of your summer life.
All those competitions--all that practice. Those summers in Huntington Beach were certainly some of the most eventful of Harold's and my life. Thanks for sharing your talent, desire and performance with us. You may not have made it a "career", but it will always be an integral part of yours and your family's life.
Love,
Aunt Di

[Michelle]

I've recently considered doing some piano studies here and I think I've come to the conclusion that it's just not meant to be because I have other things to focus on. Not that I don't love playing the piano, it's just that I see those who have made their obsession their life, and that's it. For me, it's enough to continually be playing and learning more.