Picking Up the Pieces

In today's live Q&A, Jonny May said something that stuck with me, and not in a good way: "If a piece takes you more than two months to learn, it’s probably too hard for you." Hoo boy. That didn’t sit well. I can’t even remember the last time I learned anything in under two months unless it was something relatively simple, like the Chopin A minor waltz. My immediate reaction was: Wait… am I constantly working on pieces that are too hard? My previous (classical) teachers took almost the opposite approach. Deborah encouraged me to reach beyond my limits—to stretch, to struggle a bit, to take on things that felt just out of reach. And I do think that made me better. But I also have to admit something: I’ve been struggling a lot. The Case of After You’ve Gone First of all, After You've Gone wasn’t meant to be a performance piece. It was supposed to be a training piece—a way to work on stride, coordination, and improvisation. Here’s how that went: It took about two mon...

Folks, I’m getting close. I'm not there yet, but something has finally shifted with the solo section. It's like I’ve been on a long C-curve, improving at a glacial pace, and then suddenly… it’s starting to sound like music. I’m still under tempo, but even when I push it a bit, the crashes and freeze-ups are happening far less often. What’s really encouraging is that I’ve started to build a small vocabulary—riffs, I suppose—that I can rely on for certain progressions. I’ve got a couple for F6–Fm6, one cheeky one for C6–F7, and a nice descending idea for Em7–A7. I move into syncopated blocked chords for both C6–E7–Am7–D7 and Gm7–C9, and I’ve got two riffs that work over Dm7–G7. For everything else, I’m mostly outlining the chord or using blocked chords, but even there, a few ideas are starting to show up. This has been a bit of a lightbulb moment. The riffs aren’t just “nice ideas”; they're doing real work, reducing real cognitive load. Instead of trying to invent something f...

This is not really a performance. It’s a sight-read—my second pass through Jonny May’s Ode to Joy . I first sight-read it yesterday while trying to figure out which sections would be the most challenging. Today I played it once more for the "before" video. I’m posting it as a reminder: every piece I eventually play well starts like this. Slow, uneven, and occasionally unrecognizable as music. What I’m Actually Working Toward My main goal with this piece is to collect arranging “tools.” But I also want to learn the piece itself, because it’s too good not to. Right now, it sounds great when Jonny plays it .  I assume it will also sound good when I play it, and hopefully it will feel great once it's under my hands. That said, this won’t be quick. The left-hand jumps are manageable, but the right hand stays busy, and the tempo seriously moves. A Rough Time Estimate Difficulty-wise, Ode to Joy feels comparable to pieces like Jingle Bells Rag , America the Beautiful , or maybe ...

 The past week of my piano life has been a bit out of the ordinary. For one thing, it was spring break, and we spent five days in Pensacola Beach, Florida. I'd hoped to pack the 61-key Yamaha, but there was no room—which was probably for the best, since I got a surprising amount of practice-adjacent work done. On the 7-hour drive down, I did a harmonic analysis of Jonny May's Ode To Joy, which I'll begin learning to play in earnest once I've graduated from After You've Gone (soon!). It took a while, but it was such a good use of time, and I never would have done it with a keyboard in front of me. Once I'd written it all out, I grouped the chords into recognizable patterns, labeled the sections, and added notes to make the analysis easier to navigate. (For any music theoreticians looking at this, I can promise you it isn't a perfect analysis!)  Then I listened to Jonny's arrangement while reading along ... and wow, what a different perspective that gave...

I had Friday off from work, which meant three glorious days with Tall Nick (my piano). Or at least three days featuring several hours of practice. My goals? Continue my work with After You've Gone , dive a little deeper into Lead Sheets Lesson 7 , explore a couple of possible tunes for a new arranging project, and take whatever courses were next in the Analysis 1 track on Piano With Jonny . The Wonder of Analysis It's so funny that I love analysis so much now, because I hated it most of my years as a piano student. Mention "theory" and I would run screaming in the other direction. Now I can't seem to get enough of it. The first analysis course of my three-day piano-fest was Passing Chords and Reharmonization 1 . I actually started this course a couple of years ago when learning Jonny's bluesy Amazing Grace, but the material was just a little too challenging then and I set it aside. This time? It mostly felt like review. The secondary dominants lesson, which ha...

I think I'll be ready to make a graduation video for After You've Gone by mid-month ... and that's despite being nearly derailed after weeks of progress. The culprit? The pedal. Or the lack of one. I explain more in the video: I've made a lot of progress on this project over the last couple of weeks. The left hand jumps feel genuinely automatic now, and I honestly had started to wonder if it would ever get there. The right hand is doing what it needs to do, and I have to admit that my rolls and punches are sounding really nice. Even the improvisation is starting to click, though that's the part that still needs the most work. But then I cut the pedal, and it was like learning a different piece. I almost never play completely pedal-free, unless maybe it's Bach ... and even then I'll sneak a little in. So removing it in stride piano—where I primarily used it to connect my rolled tenths—was kind of a shock to my system. It threw off my timing, my tone expecta...