Have you ever played some piece of music that was truly and utterly ugly? That you didn't enjoy playing at all? That your listeners thought you were wasting your (and their) time?
Sure you have. We all have, in fact.
How about the piece that was ugly on the outside, very bitter and harsh sounding to start with?
But then something extraordinary happened - it started to grow on you. You began to like it. The more you played it, the more you enjoyed it. The more you thought about it, the more you seemed to understand it.
Every piece of music has a life of its own.
Imagine that regardless of what you think about it, it wants to tell a story, it wants to be heard, it wants to get out of the paper page.
And when you don't like it, it becomes sad and thinks "Oh, not this joker again."
Give this piece a chance, especially if it's a modern composition.
And maybe, just maybe (if the piece is good), and you're ready for it, you can become friends again.
PS This is true about listening, not only playing, of course. (Oh and books, people, and just about everything in life, too).
Sure you have. We all have, in fact.
How about the piece that was ugly on the outside, very bitter and harsh sounding to start with?
But then something extraordinary happened - it started to grow on you. You began to like it. The more you played it, the more you enjoyed it. The more you thought about it, the more you seemed to understand it.
Every piece of music has a life of its own.
Imagine that regardless of what you think about it, it wants to tell a story, it wants to be heard, it wants to get out of the paper page.
And when you don't like it, it becomes sad and thinks "Oh, not this joker again."
Give this piece a chance, especially if it's a modern composition.
And maybe, just maybe (if the piece is good), and you're ready for it, you can become friends again.
PS This is true about listening, not only playing, of course. (Oh and books, people, and just about everything in life, too).
RSS Feed