Or, Keeping Up With Clifton. Has anyone taken note of a witty and apparently knowledgeable reader named Clifton? The one who quotes Wanda Landowska in the comments (and Darrell Rosenbluth) and who (I will share with you) felt that the proper title for this publication should’ve been Practice or Perish?
Happy father's day Mr. Matthews. I remember only too well our lesson on Bach's Sinfonia 5. You kindly but repeatedly urged me to play slower to get the rhythm; and then your daughter took up the beat when you returned home. A few years later, and many hours of some joyful, some frustrating, practices later, by George -- I think I've got it. Thank you for this wonderful gift. PS I owe you some chocolate chip cookies when you visit Seattle next.
Having grown up with you, I have memories of listening to your father practicing with the doors and windows open on summer days, the music drifting down the street. I loved reading your words about him. Clifton has always been a force of nature!
I have had the great privilege and pleasure of spending time at the piano with Mr. Matthews when he has been in Seattle in the past few years. (I refuse to call him by his first name because I feel "Mr." is a title of formal distinction and my utmost respect.) His gentle demeanor, deep love and understanding of music, and genuine commitment to sharing his wisdom and experience are gifts that have left an indelible note on my heart. One need not be of biologic relation to nourish another and facilitate their growth, which he has done for me, and I wholeheartedly wish him a Happy Father's Day as one of his "musical children"!
Can I "tautoko" (Māori for showing agreement and support with what was said) your comments on Clifton Matthews. I started piano lessons as a 3 year old (ever-competitive with my 8 year old older brother who was getting lessons, so I insisted on getting lessons, too) and still remember my first recital piece, Leila Fletcher's very much condensed version of a melody from The Surprise Symphony. I would like to think that I just got better and better from then, but that wouldn't be at all truthful. We moved and I got a new piano teacher, and then another, and then I started violin, and then we moved and I dropped violin and started the flute with more teachers and more moves. I returned to the piano in high school and , on graduation, was gifted a trip to Switzerland to study piano with Clifton for one month. I remain profoundly embarrassed of my performance for him of my recital piece of a Chopin scherzo, a piece I loved to hear, but which was far beyond my technical ability (not having yet read your useful blog on the right way to practice). Clifton wisely suggested we start a brand new piece, a Beethoven sonata, and develop my technique with a Bach invention. And here is my reason for writing: in those four weeks of lessons with Clifton, I connected with music for the first time in a way I had never done before, with any instrument. He told me to close my eyes as I played and feel the music. The month flew by and I can honestly say his energy inspired my own: never before (nor, sadly, since) had I happily and willingly practiced 3, 4 and 5 hours a day. He remains the most inspirational music teacher I have known. And I am grateful to him for introducing me to a reason to love music. Here's wishing him a happy Father's Day ( is there an Uncle's Day?) and I send you both greetings from New Zealand.
Happy father's day Mr. Matthews. I remember only too well our lesson on Bach's Sinfonia 5. You kindly but repeatedly urged me to play slower to get the rhythm; and then your daughter took up the beat when you returned home. A few years later, and many hours of some joyful, some frustrating, practices later, by George -- I think I've got it. Thank you for this wonderful gift. PS I owe you some chocolate chip cookies when you visit Seattle next.
Having grown up with you, I have memories of listening to your father practicing with the doors and windows open on summer days, the music drifting down the street. I loved reading your words about him. Clifton has always been a force of nature!
I have had the great privilege and pleasure of spending time at the piano with Mr. Matthews when he has been in Seattle in the past few years. (I refuse to call him by his first name because I feel "Mr." is a title of formal distinction and my utmost respect.) His gentle demeanor, deep love and understanding of music, and genuine commitment to sharing his wisdom and experience are gifts that have left an indelible note on my heart. One need not be of biologic relation to nourish another and facilitate their growth, which he has done for me, and I wholeheartedly wish him a Happy Father's Day as one of his "musical children"!
Can I "tautoko" (Māori for showing agreement and support with what was said) your comments on Clifton Matthews. I started piano lessons as a 3 year old (ever-competitive with my 8 year old older brother who was getting lessons, so I insisted on getting lessons, too) and still remember my first recital piece, Leila Fletcher's very much condensed version of a melody from The Surprise Symphony. I would like to think that I just got better and better from then, but that wouldn't be at all truthful. We moved and I got a new piano teacher, and then another, and then I started violin, and then we moved and I dropped violin and started the flute with more teachers and more moves. I returned to the piano in high school and , on graduation, was gifted a trip to Switzerland to study piano with Clifton for one month. I remain profoundly embarrassed of my performance for him of my recital piece of a Chopin scherzo, a piece I loved to hear, but which was far beyond my technical ability (not having yet read your useful blog on the right way to practice). Clifton wisely suggested we start a brand new piece, a Beethoven sonata, and develop my technique with a Bach invention. And here is my reason for writing: in those four weeks of lessons with Clifton, I connected with music for the first time in a way I had never done before, with any instrument. He told me to close my eyes as I played and feel the music. The month flew by and I can honestly say his energy inspired my own: never before (nor, sadly, since) had I happily and willingly practiced 3, 4 and 5 hours a day. He remains the most inspirational music teacher I have known. And I am grateful to him for introducing me to a reason to love music. Here's wishing him a happy Father's Day ( is there an Uncle's Day?) and I send you both greetings from New Zealand.