I Came! I Saw! I Laughed!? - The First Recital

In May, at a certain location in Tokyo.
My son had his first piano recital.

I had skipped the previous recital.
After all, my son would squirm around and couldn't sit still during lessons or at home.
I didn't think there was any need to rush, so I decided against it, but
now that he's five and able to take lessons by himself (amazing!),
we talked about giving it a try this year.

"Mom, it's boring when you're in the lesson with me."

Oh, I see!
That's a good sign.
If that's the case, maybe he can handle the recital?
Will he be able to play in front of everyone?

"A recital? I can do it!"

Assigned piece: "Ode to Joy"

We decided to participate in the recital last September.
We were able to buy a piano, so we were all set.

What kind of song should we choose?
To my question, the teacher replied,

"You can choose from the textbook, or if they are small children, maybe something from Ghibli or Disney."

I see.
My son has never watched Ghibli, so maybe Disney would be good.
(Though he's only ever watched Cars from Disney, too.)
But that alone would be too short (the time limit is 4 minutes), so maybe we should have one or two more songs.

The first one we chose was "Ode to Joy."
It appeared in his textbook a long time ago, and he had been able to play it since then, so I thought this would be fine for now.
It might be just right for the first song.
Still, since he's playing in front of an audience, let's practice.

First, I wanted him to play along with a metronome, without speeding up or slowing down until the end, and to make sure his fingers could handle the eighth notes.
That's what I thought while practicing, but from my son's perspective,

(Huh? I can already play this, you know?)

He had no motivation.
What makes you think you can just play it on your own!

Mom:
"Hey, can you stop playing so lazily? It's making me sleepy! I told you it's 'Ode to Joy'!"

Good grief, I had no choice but to scour the internet and find the lyrics to Ode to Joy.
(Lots of people have translated it, but I wonder if there's one that's easy for a child to understand... rustle, rustle.)

"Look! It says here, 'Fill your body with a burning flame'!"
"More, like, fill your chest with joy! Like this!"

(Is this the kind of feeling?) my son asked as he struck the keys forcefully.
Hmm...
It's a bit rough, but it's better than him looking sleepy.
For now, just play it with all your might.
It is "Ode to Joy," after all.

Assigned song: "A Whole New World"

Out of all the Disney songs, the one I chose was from the movie "Aladdin,"
"A Whole New World."
If I asked my son, who has zero interest in Disney princesses, "Which Disney song do you want?", he would definitely just reply, "I don't care."
In that case, I thought a song with a male protagonist would be better.
And riding on a magic carpet is romantic and nice, isn't it?
Yeah, let's go with that.
Well, the biggest reason is just that it's a song Mom likes.

When I looked it up on "Print Music"

There were various versions of the sheet music, from beginner to advanced.
I printed out the beginner and elementary versions and consulted with the teacher.
"I think it's better to choose a slightly more difficult song rather than one you can play with your current ability. I think your son can challenge himself with this level. There's still time, after all."
They said, and recommended the elementary-level sheet music.

Alright, it's decided!
Now, let's practice hard from now until May.
If you work hard, something good will definitely happen.
Even though I say that, my son is still half-doubting, but
"It's okay, it's true."

And so, the practice began, but
well, it was tough.
In the end, it became a style where Mom learns to play it first and then teaches it to my son
(I don't even know it myself!)
While sometimes soothing and sometimes scolding my son, who would snap, "I can't do it!"
we had no choice but to inch forward, one measure at a time.

Even so, my son seems happy when he becomes able to do it,

"I'm a pro~"

It was a relief to hear him say something so cocky.
(I wonder if he's enjoying it at least a little bit)

It was February when he was finally able to play through all 30 measures. (It took 5 months)
From there, we started practicing expression.
Since there are lyrics originally, he has to play it as if he's singing, right?
We check the lyrics and play the corresponding parts.
We keep repeating this.
I wish he would play more carefully...
To my son who plays roughly,

Mom
"Wait a second.
Are you a thug? Hey, are you a thug?
The other person is a princess, you know?
"Hey, hey, lady, want to ride on my carpet? I won't let you lose out."
Is it really okay to ask her out on a date like that? No, that's disrespectful!"

Then, my son starts playing as if he's mumbling.
(Stooop!)

Mom
"Wait, wait, wait.
"I-i-i-i-if you'd like, m-m-m-m-my, um, magic carpe..."
is what I'm hearing.
Are you an introvert? Look, Aladdin is a street rat who lives with a monkey.
That Aladdin transformed into a prince with magic power and is coming in looking sharp, right?
How can you not act cool?
Do you think a princess would say yes to that?
If I were her, I'd turn you down."
"So, more...

smartly,
elegantly,
romantically...!"
Ignoring Mom, who started singing loudly without thinking,

my son played one F# note, *plink*.

"Mom, that note is wrong."

"......."

That's rude of you.

When I told people I was working hard on recital practice,
I was sometimes told, "You can't make a living with piano."
I never once talked about making a living with piano, though.

"I played piano when I was a kid too, but I don't remember anything."
"It's just an electronic piano, right?"
"More importantly, it's all about English!"

From my serious perspective,
since you're going to the trouble of performing at a recital, and there will be an audience, however small,
shouldn't you practice as hard as you can and make sure it's something you can present in front of people?
I think so, but,

"Don't start saying things like 'I have to send them to music college! They'll be a pianist in the future!' haha"

some people tease me like that.

That's rude.

Having bitten off a tiny corner of the world of the arts,
there's no way I would say something so sleepy.

People who don't understand even a millimeter of what the arts are about
are the ones who say such things to me.

In the first place, I don't agree with the idea that if it doesn't lead to earning money, there's no point in doing it seriously.
Art is not a means to satisfy your desire for approval while also making a ton of money. (No, it's actually the opposite.)
Those are the very people who have no business going to a concert.
Because even if they listen with their own ears, it won't earn them a single yen.

Anyway,
Dad is coming on the day,
for the teacher who teaches so enthusiastically,
for the staff who support us,
for the audience,

for everyone's sake, please play your best.

I don't want to be seen looking uncool.

The day of the recital was beautifully sunny, making me think that the season of fresh green leaves and fragrant breezes is exactly like today.
I met Dad at the station nearest to the venue, and we headed to the venue a little early.

"This is the gift I bought to give to the teacher."

Saying that, Dad shook the paper bag he was carrying.

"Oh! I was worried about that but I forgot, so that's a huge help! Thank you."

You're actually thoughtful today. What's up?

My son's turn is actually first.
Does that mean my son is the youngest?
I wonder if he can bow properly.
Sigh, I'm so anxious.
I'm the one who's restless.

At the reception, the usual classroom staff greeted us.
"Since he's first, he'll be called soon, so please go ahead and take your seats."
Oh, then I need to find a place where it's easy to film.
I urged Dad, who was in charge of filming, and we took seats in the middle of the venue, behind the aisle.

"You need to bow in the middle of the stage. Got it?"

My son nodded, saying yes.
As soon as the venue went dark, he was called and went off.
(Ah, Mom is more nervous than he is!)

Thinking back, we really practiced hard for eight months.
Playing the same song hundreds of times must have been tough for a five-year-old.
I sometimes thought to myself, (He can play it reasonably well about 80% of the time, isn't that enough?), but
"If you can play this well at five, people will applaud you."
"Even if you make a mistake, the audience will still clap for you."
When I said that, my son glared at me sharply and said,
"That's not good enough! It's not good at all!"
and he practiced with all his might.
It might be partly because his mom was strict, but
perhaps he was able to work this hard because of his own spirit of "I absolutely don't want to be seen looking uncool."
Even if you try as hard as you possibly can, it's normal to fail or lose, and there will always be opponents you can't beat no matter what.
I think those experiences are important too, but for at least his first recital, I wanted him to succeed.
I wanted him to experience the feeling that all the effort you put in comes back as a result.
Especially since he doesn't want to be seen looking uncool.

It's like something

When the announcer finished, the venue went quiet, and
my son came out from the wings of the stage, looking around.
The audience chuckled softly.
My son bowed deeply and received applause, then looked around the venue with a big smile. Even after sitting on the chair, he kept smiling, looked around the venue, and then looked toward the wings (where the teacher was) and
(Oh, that's right. I'm supposed to play.)
as if he had just remembered, he started playing "Ode to Joy."

Phew. I thought he wasn't going to play.

The first song, "Ode to Joy," and the second song, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,"
("Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" was added about two months before the recital)
shouldn't have been a problem if he just played them normally.
As long as he didn't get nervous and stop playing.
On the contrary, I just wanted him to play them properly so he wouldn't mess up and ruin the final song, "A Whole New World."

Holding my breath in the audience,
I thought, this is like something.
Back when I used to watch figure skating competitions on TV.
In figure skating, you know the program in advance and you know the difficulty of the moves, so

Will he land the next jump!? Come on, come on!
Yes! He landed it!!!!

That's how it feels.
It's the same for me; having practiced with my son for eight months, I know all the difficult parts he repeated over and over, and the parts where he tends to develop bad habits, so as he approached those sections,

Please, please, please...
YES!!!

I was pumping my fist.

"Ode to Joy" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" landed without a hitch.

I came! I saw! I laughed!?

The hardest part of the third song, "A Whole New World," is where the left hand plays two beats and the right hand plays triplets,
in terms of lyrics, it's the chorus part,
"No one to tell us no"
the "No one"
part.

The start was smooth, but
well, not just the start,
in the end, it was the best he'd ever played it.
The teacher even said later,
"It was perfect."
It was that good, but...

A Whole New World
A New World

It's the chorus! Here we go! Mom is excited and Dad is gripping the camera.
But my son turned his face around to the audience.

Huh!?
Wait, wait, what about your hands? Your hands?
Look forward, forward, look forward!!!

I tried sending him all my mental energy, but it didn't seem to reach him,
in fact, he even turned further toward the audience and

smiled☺️

And then, he smiles.

(The audience laughs along with him.)

It must have only been two or three seconds, but it felt like an incredibly long time.
If he had messed up after doing something like that, it would have been truly embarrassing.
He landed the two-beat triplet right after perfectly, and since he played through to the end carefully without any mistakes, it was fine, but...

With that and other things, his first recital ended in a great success.
All's well that ends well.

My son, who returned looking satisfied after receiving a round of applause, said:

"I won."
(Oh, be quiet.)

The first fan appears

There were just under 30 participants in this recital.
Thinking that every child had practiced so hard, I naturally felt like giving them a huge round of applause.
It takes time to be able to play an instrument, doesn't it?
With other extracurriculars, like art class or sports, I think there are many that you can enjoy from the very first day.
It's fun even if you're bad at it.
But with instruments, you have to do repetitive, dull practice over and over. It's tough.
Even I took many days just to get a sound out of the ryuteki.
Besides, in the life of an average person, there probably isn't much use for the piano.
But I think that's why it's good.
Life is surely richer if you can enjoy things that have no practical use.

Still, though, you really worked hard. It became a lifelong memory for Mom.
Thank you.

Just as the performances of half the participants had finished, it was time for a break.
When I took my son to the restroom while he was saying, "Potty, potty," an elderly lady called out to us.

"Oh my! So it was you! You were so good! To have the composure to look at the audience like that! You smiled, so this old lady became a fan! Oh, you're wonderful! Oh my!"
(She was really that excited)

"Thank you, thank you very much.
How old is he now? He's five.
Since when? He's been taking lessons since he was three.
Who is he with? We came here the three of us, with his dad."

After being showered with the lady's praise and thanking her repeatedly, we entered a restroom stall.
You're quite the lady-killer, aren't you?
But isn't it great? You practiced hard and got praised for it.
Just as I said that and went to unzip his pants,

What!?
Your zipper was down!?

Son
"Yeah."

Mom
"You mean you were playing the piano with your zipper down?"

Son
"Yeah."

"......"