Heaven Baird
April 09, 2012 8:33 PM
Practicing (Tag: Lucien) by Heaven Baird
Having heard about a set of rooms that were dedicated to the entertainment and development of the students, Heaven had gone off to find the rooms. Most of the rooms didn’t hold any special interest for her except for the one that was dedicated to Music. This was a secret pleasure for her. While her parents expected her to play the piano, because it was important for a lady to be accomplished in some form of the Arts. However, to consider an Art as a career (or really any career) was undesirable. If she had been able to do so, she would have asked to go to a school dedicated to the musical field. As it was, she was lucky that her parents had opted to send her to a school that even had a Music room even if it was only for entertainment.Opening the door that lead to the Music room, Heaven breathed a small ‘Oh’ and clapped her hands together. It was absolutely wonderful! There were all sorts of instruments to choose from, but beyond all of them sat a gorgeous black baby grand. Nearly dancing, she made her way over to it. Tucking her skirt beneath her, she sat down. Her fingers lightly brushed the ivory keys before tapping out a few notes. It seemed that the piano was well tuned, which helped quite a bit since she didn’t really want to have to mess with the school’s piano. Tuning a piano could be tricky and was worse when one wasn’t familiar with the particular instrument. Even under normal circumstances, it was usually best to have a professional do it. Warming up, she played a song that she knew by heart. After a few times, she felt comfortable enough to seek out sheet music.
Nearby was a trunk and opening it revealed various pieces. Holding a folder in her lap, she flipped through some of the options until she found one of interest. It was called Requiem for a Dream. She hummed a few of the notes just to get a general idea of the sound. Yes, it was undoubtedly beautiful, guaranteed to sound near haunting on the piano. Taking the sheets, she went back to the piano and set them up. She started out slowly, adjusting her fingers to the various notes before beginning to adjust the tempo. Unfortunately, with such small hands, it was harder to force them where was necessary for some of the notes and she was making mistakes. When she hit another wrong note by accident when coming off the right key, she groaned, wanting to hit her head off of the keys.
Fluffing her hair over her shoulders, Heaven took a deep breath. She was only eleven and she was still mastering her skill. It would take time and this was a difficult piece. That was the point of why she was practicing it – to become a better player. Starting over, she tried again and once more, she hit an erroneous note. Again and again. She tried to go more slowly, but it didn’t sound right. At least, this way she wasn’t hitting that note, but she also knew it wasn’t right. So, she tried to pick up the pace again. Once more, she hit the note. Coupled with the fact of trying to hit the low and high side with her slight stretch, it was definitely testing her. And wrong note. Ignoring it, she went on until someone spoke.
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Heaven Baird
Practicing (Tag: Lucien)
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Heaven Baird
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Lucian D'Alesandro
April 10, 2012 12:35 AM
Tooting my own horn. At least I don't actually play one. by Lucian D'Alesandro
Ever since his roommate Jay had mentioned there was a music room at Sonora, thoughts of practicing drumming techniques crossed Lucian’s mind. He decided to explore the school a bit further and eventually made his way to the MARS rooms. He saw the five doors that led to other rooms and kept walking until he heard a piano playing, and he decided to follow the sound to the music room. It grew louder as he reached the correct door, and he opened it slowly and quietly so the person playing inside was not disturbed.A young girl sat at the baby grand piano positioned near the back of the room. Her back was to him, so she did not see him entering. She had stopped playing for a moment and appeared to be sifting through what he believed was sheet music resting on her lap. Lucian settled very quietly in a chair near the back of the room to observe for a few minutes. He was eager to play his music, but he figured scoping out his potential competition couldn’t hurt.
It wasn’t that he was arrogant, for his sister got on his last nerve when she turned her nose up in the air because she thought something or someone was beneath her. It was more of a territorial feeling, because music and art were the two things he was passionate about. He loved acquiring knowledge about many subjects that he enjoyed, but it never compared to how he felt about music and art. They were the two subjects of study that he could not explain with theories or philosophies. He couldn’t search for answers as to why they exist or why they were important. They just were for him, and he liked not having to search for explanations for them.
The girl began humming notes to a song he never heard before and, after settling on what she wanted to play, she began hitting the keys slowly as though she wanted to adjust her playing to fit the mood of the song. The song started out slowly and seemed to pick up towards the middle. It became strong and powerful at points, but remained melancholic. It was beautifully haunting, and sent a slight shiver down Lucian’s spine. His concentration was interrupted when she hit the wrong note occasionally. She seemed to become increasingly frustrated, and paused to collect herself briefly. As she started playing again, she hit the wrong notes a few times once more. Lucian decided this was his cue to chime in. Frustration rarely produces anything that doesn’t sound aggressive, and that did not seem to be the emotion the song was meant to capture.
He rose from his seat and crossed the room, approaching the piano as she continued to play. “You should loosen up a bit. You don’t have to play it perfectly the first time,” he said to her while taking a seat to her left on the same bench she was sitting on. He hadn’t practiced on the piano very much, but he had watched his mother play enough times to know what he was doing. “Try to play it like this,” he continued as he lifted his hands to begin playing the song an octave lower than intended. It still flowed beautifully, no matter which octave was used.
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Lucian D'Alesandro
Tooting my own horn. At least I don't actually play one.
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Lucian D'Alesandro
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