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 between and spent more time on the PlayStation with his friends. He came out of his lessons saying he hated them and that he took no joy from the piano anymore. I thought sadly this meant it was all over and asked if he wanted to give up. He said no. He just wanted to play the pieces he loved. 

I decided life was too short to inflict this misery on my son, and we cancelled his grade five exam. He was relieved, but he still didn’t return to the piano with his old passion. He did say, though, that he was looking forward to the summer school and I cherished a hope that this might reignite something in him.

It did.

His dad went as his guardian last year, so I wasn’t there to witness the rebirth of Sam’s joy in piano playing, but he did FaceTime me every day from his practice room to show me what he was learning. There was an expression on his face as he talked that I realised was awe. He was, absolutely and completely, in awe of the piano. That old passion had finally come back. His teacher was lovely and they worked together on a new piece, and in his theory lessons with Paul Harris, he started composing. Paul took Sam’s simple compositions seriously. They discussed them together with gravitas, and this was all Sam needed to inspire a new love. 

Sam was very aware that so many of the other children at the summer school were ‘better than him,’ but he didn’t seem to mind this. In fact, it actually seemed to inspire him. When he came home, he told me about a nine-year-old boy he’d met who played Chopin’s Minute Waltz and he set about learning it. I bought him the music and he spent hours every day watching You Tube videos and then trying it himself. After two weeks, he’d pretty much got it. He then moved on to Scott Joplin and he’s now obsessed with Lizst. 

If Sam were a grade-taker, he would have gone from Grade 5 to Grade 8 in three months. Admittedly, not exactly, as there are scales and theory he has rather skimmed over, but in terms of his performance and his passion, he has taken a huge leap. This has been a humbling lesson for me. I’ve realised what I already knew but couldn’t quite live by: when a child has talent and passion, they will find their own way through. It might not be the standard way, but it will be the way that suits them. Now, I stand right back from my son’s musical life and just watch him blossom.

There is no doubt in my mind that this musical leap wouldn’t have happened without the summer school. Last year’s experience was life-changing for Sam. It acted as rocket fuel, reigniting his passion and shooting him forwards into a new world that he loves. He can’t wait for the next one, and neither can I. 

https://pianosummerschool.com/