Learning Tempo

It had been a crazy week for Stephanie Francine Garrett. Overcommitted as always, she would rise at the crack of dawn to hit the gym and reinforce the muscles in her ripped arms and harden the abs in her perfect tummy. A shower later, she would be her gorgeous self and be heading into the office before 7am to start the international calls. Before she even came up for air, it would be lunchtime and she would have 5 meetings and 100 emails under her belt. Lunch at her desk was the norm followed by more meetings, more calls, class prep for her side-gig as university professor, volunteer activities and more. She could have taken it easy and been a model, body builder, or MMA fighter. Not this goddess…her brain has too much to offer.

With all the usual chaos, Steph did skip one activity this week – piano practice. She worked in quarterly recital intervals – 3 months to learn a piece and be ready to present amongst a small group of her peers. It was an interesting class – designed for the overscheduled, super-skilled and super intense – 3 men and 3 women, all with similar brains, brawn and mindset. She hated showing up to class without being ready. It made her anxious. Few things did. Perhaps it was the utter brilliance of her piano teacher, Marco Pancetti. Marco fit the bill perfectly – Stanford educated, Julliard mastered, handsome, well-groomed, slight accent, and as fit as any of his pupils. 100% intimidating. Marco also had little tolerance for mediocrity. His mentality was simple – reward those who have earned it, discipline those who have not. As Steph drove to practice, her anxiety grew to a level of odd anticipation of the disciplinary action inevitably ahead of her.

The practice room was laid out as it always was. Slick and shiny, the satin ebony 2003 Steinway Model D Concert Grand mesmerized in the center of the room. Nearly nine feet in length and reaching over six feet tall while open, it was a sight to be seen. Seven chairs were laid out in a perfect line for the observing pupils while the other would take his or her turn at the instrument worthy of only the finest players. The additional chairs on each end were for our regular non-playing audience members, Ivory and Onyx. Ivory and Onyx were beautiful, big, fluffy, pompous Persian cats who would stay seated on their respective ends throughout the class. Duet Leather was the bench of choice today where one-by-one, the pupils would take their turns with their respective pieces. Today’s practice sessions were a bit up and down and Marco, in his usual perfectly tailored open collar black suit, had already started the afternoon with a bit of an edge. By the time he got to Steph, his last practitioner of the day, he was a bit irritated. He decided he needed to take training up a notch. He went to a cabinet and retrieved an old case and brought it over. He laid it on top and opened it to retrieve his 1914 London silver mounted and ebonized conductor’s baton. The class had never seen this beauty before. 14.2 inches of history that had instructed masters for over a century. He did not use it – he simply held it. Perhaps confidence. Perhaps a statement. Perhaps…

Steph was about to start when he rested his right hand on top of her hands while they lay perched on the ivory keys. She felt a touch of excitement as a shiver ran down her spine. He calmly asked her to “wait a moment” as he wanted to talk to the class first. He complimented the group on their attention to fingering and for staying on key throughout most of the practice. But then he paced and began to lecture them on the importance of staying on tempo while mastering the keys. “It is critical to be smooth through the piece and mimic the pacing as originally written by the artist. In fact, tempo is often more important than perfection of the notes. It allows the listener to close her eyes and feel the music, to understand what the writer wants her to feel.” He became increasingly agitated as he paced and lectured, waving his baton up and down, visually showing how a smooth tempo should work.