From Beethoven to Carnegie Hall Beads of sweat rolled down my neck as I played Beethovens Finale and tried to remember

what Miss Yuko told me. Keep your wrists high. Pretend you are balancing a penny on your hand. Listening to my heart beat to the sound of the metronome from memory, I weaved my hands around the complex textures. You are a blind and passionate 18th century pianist playing a dramatic piece to your lover. Exaggerate everything. With each proceeding beat, my fingers pressed harder. And now, Fortissimo! I slammed the keys. I released my foot from the sustain pedal and took a sharp breath. After hearing a round of applause, I let it go and stood up. Then, I faced the crowd of seventy year olds sitting in foldable plastic chairs, bowed, and glanced at Miss Yuko who nodded her head- a sign of a job well done. This concluded a new personal threshold in piano, one of many that Miss Yuko

introduced to me. It started with a simple piano piece that Miss Yuko recommended. She advised me to
play pieces beyond the Baroque period, out of my comfort zone. However, I was unfamiliar with Beethovens style, his sudden change in dynamics, and his characteristic style. No, your technique is wrong, she would remark. Havent you ever seen someone play Beethoven before? I still cant forget the shock that came to Miss Yukos face when I mentioned that in fact, I had never been to an opera, a Broadway show or a music performance in Carnegie Hall before, despite living in the Big Apple my whole life. How can you appreciate and learn the techniques of Beethoven when youve never seen a professional play Beethoven? she asked. After that day, I was musically educated. Miss Yuko handed me her CDs of music from the Classical and Romantic period, made me listen to the performances, and told me to listen to the tone. Afterwards, she invited my family and me to go to a piano performance in Carnegie Hall by a renowned pianist. Look at his posture! she exclaimed. Listen to the balance between the left and right hand.

I still remember her eyes gleaming and shining as she pointed out the various techniques using unfamiliar terminology, which she later explained in class. Music is not just about memorizing scales and sight reading music, she repeated. Then she told me something I could never forget. Have you ever heard the Japanese proverb Minu ga hana? she asked. Take all the opportunities that life gives you. Under her guidance, I have, without a doubt, taken her words to heart applied them. Until last year, I have never taken advantage of the New York music library, performed at a senior center, watched a Broadway musical, consecutively listened to fifteen Bach inventions and fiteen Bach sinfonias on Youtube or learned how to improvise jazz pieces. My surge in confidence was thanks to Miss Yukos enthusiasm and positive attitude toward teaching. Never demeaning, she uses any opportunity to expose her students to different kinds of music. I learned both visually and musically without ever feeling overwhelmed. Most importantly, she instilled in me good habits and a first-class work ethic. Soon, it became my goal to master a piece from a musical period each month and to play it flawlessly. A typical piano session would involve practicing my appoggiaturas, listening to recordings and watching my teacher play Fazil Says Jazz Fantasy on Mozart, a jazz twist to the famous Turkish March. Thus, with the help of the resources, I would practice on my own for an hour that day. Through much practice, I no longer needed a metronome, and with time, not even sheet music. Miss Yuko has given me a whole new perspective toward music. By the end of the year; I was playing jazz pieces, romantic pieces, modern pieces, and more. I can proudly say that my iPod now contains music pieces from China to Germany and my music collection ranges from Liszt to Louis Armstrong. I can also attest to attending five concerts, from Vienna orchestras to chamber ensembles. Although radically different from each other, I came to love each one in a distinctive way. Miss Yuko has inspired me to strive for perfection, not just in music, but in the realm of life as well. Each step you take, no matter how small or how insignificant you might think, can only help you grow as a person. Take my performance at the elderly center. Although it pales in comparison to the professionals at Carnegie Hall, I still feel a sense of accomplishment. I feel genuinely proud of myself for performing in public, even though it wasnt perfect. It doesnt matter where I start out because success has no beginning and no end. Whats important is my passion - the desire to pursue my aspirations and the steps I take to achieve them. Only then, can I utilize my full potential. Inspiration comes in different places and people. It comes from trivial things. It comes from once in a lifetime opportunities. It comes from people you admire. It comes from anything that we hold close

to our heart. For me, that is Miss Yuko and the piano. Because of these invaluable experiences, I now understand the true meaning of taking chances, minu ga hana. - Jonathan Li