Memories of the Piano
Sunday, August 27th, 2006
It was my Tatay’s idea. Perhaps influenced by his studies in ancient philosophy in his early college years, he always wanted for his sons skills in music as, like Plato, he believed fulfillment and recognition come to those who are not only nourished in mind, but also to those whose souls are in tune with the arts.
***
I started learning to play the piano at an early age. Actually, I don’t have any distinct memories of when my young delicate fingers first touched ivory keys. Though, I remember the day when a dark-brown upright piano was brought in to our house. It was a Trebel, which they said was topnotch in the piano business in the 80s and, I guess, until now. Adorned with this instrument of such sophistication to the eyes of a child, our sala looked a bit more elegant since that day. They say if you have a piano in the house, you assume a level higher than the ordinary middle class in the society. It would have been a level much higher if it’s a grand piano, because it means you have a bigger sala to fit it in. Anyway, the social status could have been real for my father. For me, though, it was just another toy. A big one. I remember Tatay getting all angry whenever he finds us, brothers, tinkering with it’s innards. Our family always had this piano eversince. It’s still in our house until now, in our small library. My son, Luke is already playing it, without the proper notes, of course, for now. This piano is one of our family’s priceless treasures and one of my father’s legacies I treasure most. He lives on whenever tunes of his favorite songs play on it- "The Ballad of Adeline".
***
As a child, I never really had interest in my piano lessons. As early as Grade 3 (Primary School), I was already sitting on the chair with a teacher. Her name was Mrs. Tetanco. We did not had lessons in a music room, as Mrs. Tetanco always had her special piano lessons on the school’s theatre stage. I can still remember those hot summer afternoons when I’d go with my books there and reluctantly sit on the chair after greeting her "Good morning, Ma’am." Although I have so much to thank Mrs. Tetanco now, truth is, I never really had focus in learning to read the notes in front of me, then. I, even, was not sure why music had to be taught to us like a requirement, although Tatay would always say we should feel lucky since not all children have this privilege. I understand why I’d think that way now- I was so young to realize it’s worth for all I had in mind was to do good in my Math class, finish my assignment when I get home so that I could start playing early. You can’t blame a child thinking that way. (And I’m sure wherever she is right now, Mrs. Tetanco is proud of how far the fire that she had instilled in me had gone now.)
***
Recitals were a drag. I had my last recital when I was 7, if I remember correctly. Wearing a necktie, a white long-sleeved polo tucked in white slacks and white shoes, I went straight to the center of the stage, and sat on the piano’s chair without minding the curious people in the audience. The last song I played in front of a big audience was "Battle of Waterloo"- a 10-minute series of fast and slow paced tunes that depicted the battle in Napoleon Bonaparte’s last stronghold. As grand as it may sound, this piece would strain a child’s finger whenever played repeatedly during rehearsals. It was great amazement hearing it first. I guess the audience were quite amazed seeing a young boy play such a complex piece. But if you get to play it everyday fearing a stick landing on your fingers on every mistake that you make, and when a piece becomes part of your daily routine, it could sound quite irritating and you’d thank God it’s all finished at it’s last note. I remember the only remark I got on this when I went down from the stage. It was from my Ninong Ruding- "Maganda…, kaya lang parang natapilok yung kabayo sa huli." ("Your performance was great, but the horse somehow tripped over in the end of the song.")
***
Somehow, playing the piano then was not felt as a passion. It was more of just a lesson learned in class. Several years passed and I didn’t touch the instrument. The piano was just there in the sala, like any other ornaments you can find in the house.
***
In a room near where the faculty held office, there was an old piano where a great mentor, Fr. Rey Magnaye, ICSB’s former musical director, used to play songs in the late afternoon just before the school gates close. Once, I sat beside this jolly fellow and just watched him play his wonderful tunes that would echo in the whole campus. I always thought of going there to see where the songs that calm a student’s soul was coming from. That late afternoon when I went there and sat as Fr. Rey’s audience, it was all magical. He was playing songs without a songbook to guide him! As a prodigal apprentice of the art, I was so stunned to see this man recreate beautiful songs straight from the heart- the one I remember distinctly was "Part of Your World" from the soundtrack of the Disney movie, "The Little Mermaid", one of my favorite songs until now. Days after, I saw myself back honing the craft again. I completed the first song that I could play without a songbook to guide me- "Heaven Knows" by Rick Price. It was one of the songs that reminded me of the puppy love all the time. It was the first song played directly from my heart. It was through this song that my unique uido was born- I hear the song resonating from within, dissect the many elements that compose it’s harmony, let my heart sing each part and let it control my hands while finding the right tunes on the keys of the piano. Is it magic? If it’s how you define how one can actually hear a heart sing, then perhaps it is.
***
Most kids fall in real love for the first time when in highschool. So
was I, but it was not an ordinary one. I had to keep it. I guess it was
puppy love that I decided not to show to the world forever, afraid of
it’s harsh judgements and consequences. However, this "love" never
stopped inspiring the kid. In academics, he showed some awesome tricks just to prove himself worthy of her attention, but that was not enough. Inspiration and a very young
sense of romance can be a powerful adversary or ally and can never be
kept dormant inside. A young heart is never space enough for feelings
that creeps within everday. Either you retaliate, and go on inspired
somehow. Excess inspiration flowed endlessly through this piano near the faculty room. As I fell helplessly in love for this girl from afar, so did my music flowed endlessly through this old piano. Many songs were born and reborn there. So did the discreet hopeless romantic in me.
***
In UP Diliman’s Palma Hall, there used to be a room on the second floor where you can find an old (but still shiny) upright Yamaha piano. It’s not as good as a Trebel, but this piano and I shared lots of good memories together. In my four years of collegiate studies, this was the only place in the campus where I let my heart sang. With friends, we would always find time to gather in this room at the end of the day and I’d play songs for them- I never really had a list of songs to play in the first place. People from other colleges and classes, perhaps weary after a long day of dealing with professors and books, would come in, sit and listen before heading home. We played our favorite songs, my friends would often sing to it, I’d sometimes hear people clapping and cheering after every piece. I could still clearly remember that day when Reo, Ribs and Leilani took a cassette player with them to record some of the songs that we love to sing. I think Reo still has the tape. Anyway, that was one of the clearest and best memories that I let running in my thoughts whenever miss college life, innocence and UP Diliman… until now.
***
The piano had always been a useful tool in expressing what’s within my heart- may it be something romantic, something that depicts anger, sadness, something that says I’m in desperate need of peace of mind, or something that says I’m just plain happy. I remember sneaking in one of those piano stores in SM Megamall with Ethel. We’d pretend that we were customers who’d want to buy a white grand piano. The salesperson would show us one, I’d sit on the chair, and play our theme song for that month. It never fails to see her fall in love with me at that moment. It never fails to touch my heart whenever I see her dreamy eyes. (Of course, we never got to get the piano, much to the salesperson’s dismay. :-p)
***
Lately, I was blessed with this rare chance of sharing my music with another circle of friends when the Adobe NATS team joined Sykes on an outing in 8waves, Bulacan. That house in San Antonio’s Garden where we stayed had a piano in it’s sala. It’s a bit faulty- the middle-F key was broken, some keys on the higher and lower notes are out of tune already- but it never really did matter. After six years, I saw friends quite entertained while they listen to my humble music again. I glanced a smile on Maimai’s face when she found me playing a song. I found it quite heart-warming when she indulged to sit beside me when I played Forrest Gump’s theme. (Thank you, seatmate. :)) It was quite a pleasure to hear Russ singing a requested OPM song- "Alipin" by Shamrock. I was touched to see Marvs shed some tears after singing "Heaven" by Bryan Adams. Those were such short but delightful memories that I’d keep handy anywhere I’d go.
***
I never was capable of reading the notes. It has always been uido whenever I play the piano. I always play music whenever my heart wants to. And the inspiration was always kept within for not all places possess this wonderful musical instrument. Whenever I find one, my heart jumps with joy- a rare opportunity to express itself to the world (or, at least, to anyone who could hear it). Whenever people have this chance to listen to it, whenever it makes them "hum" or sing with it, whenever every song’s last note make them smile, it never fails to make me smile, as well.
***
