The Lasting Flames of the Summer School
The year between Sam’s first and second experiences of the summer school was a bit of a miserable one where the piano was concerned. This was mostly because of me. He’d never been interested in taking music exams, preferring to play pieces he loved. (After his first ever lesson learning notes A,B and C, he turned up at his piano teacher’s house, earnestly clutching a book of Mozart’s sonatas, and announced that he wanted to learn Number 15.) As a parent with absolutely no musical background whatsoever - the pinnacle of my musical life was playing London’s Burning on the recorder in a primary school assembly – I found it difficult to know the best way of supporting my son’s passion. After our first summer school, having chatted to lots of other parents, I came away with the idea that he should probably do grade five because it seemed like a key one. He spent six months plodding to his lessons. He had three pieces he obediently learned but stopped practising in betw...