“Now I want to go away into my silent art; if I only had no fingers, and could play with my heart on other hearts.” I believe Schumann had it right when he evolved from worrisome piano technique to playing the piano (and composing) with the brilliance that can only stem from his emotional capacity to express the abstract musical language.
I have now completed one year of Graduate School, and having just finished the most dreaded class of all – music theory – I’m feeling a bit more accomplished than I was six weeks ago. The class has been enthralling, frustrating, maddening, enlightening, and entirely cathartic. During my undergraduate experience, I remember professors informing me of my analytic inabilities (or lack thereof) and how far I fell short of my understanding of any and all components of music examination. So I said “screw it, I hate this class anyway.” And skipped most of the semester, barely scraping by with a B-.
I approached this class as a challenge- an invigorating mess of conquering the demons to whom I submitted in college, actually admitting that “I couldn’t do it”. No, I wouldn’t do it. Eight years later, older and wiser, I was determined NOT to score straight A’s (although wouldn’t that be nice?), but to actually immerse myself in information. To play each Beethoven, Bach, Schumann, or Chopin piece until I could feel myself understanding the chords dancing beneath my fingers on the keyboard.
The course is online, and so the lectures were limited, the information and assignments astoundingly difficult. Checking in on discussions were stressful – filled with stressed out classmates, parents, wives, teachers holding several jobs. I simply stopped paying attention to the whining after awhile. I truly cannot cope with people who express their stress in such verbose and unnecessary manner. I worked alone and on my own.
At 6:24 PM last night, I finished my final thoughts on my Schumann analysis and turned the eleven page paper in along with the Roman Numeral Analysis of his Novelletten, No. 1. And of course, I toasted my farewell to the course with a bottle of wine.
I woke up this morning contemplating all that I have accomplished in the past few weeks, and I finally realized that I have overcome the frustration that is my so- called non-analytical brain. I finally triumphed in understanding the elements of music analysis, despite the disdainful memories of my undergraduate experience. It just goes to show you that with determination and patience, one can conquer any hurdle that is thrown. And I’ve emerged a wiser and more accomplished musician because of it.
