Our family life was filled with music. Mainly, this was because Giuseppe played guitar and sang every day. We listened to a lot of music as well, but having someone actually making music was something special. It was a kind of music education that happened without anyone thinking about it. Giui played everything from classical to pop, from our parents’ generation to songs that were popular when the children were young. His taste in music knew no bounds.
I put Julien into an “early children’s music” class when he was about four or five years old, but I thought it was all a bit of nonsense. Too much hammering on the xylophone and not enough melody or rhythm. Mainly, though, I stopped taking Julien because the music teacher was too sanctimonious for my taste.
Both Sara and Julien took keyboard lessons. These were group lessons, and they played in their respective groups for nearly ten years. They became good at playing, but it was never about proficiency. For that, they did not practise enough. It was more about the ritual of meeting and playing music with others. Sara learnt to play the alto sax and played in the school’s big band. She also took singing lessons for a while and taught herself to play the ukulele.
Neither of them plays now, though they would both like to do so again.
Part of me wonders whether we should have been more diligent in making them practise. They were good enough to learn new pieces on their own, but not good enough not to forget how to play once they went off to university. I never pushed them because all I really wanted was for them, like Giui, to make music.
A home with someone playing music in it was, to me, a home filled with warmth and love.
No comments:
Post a Comment