Jessica and Tanny

Jessica’s work is a beautiful example of what we can do when we let go of what we think and trust ourselves and each other. The wider implications are worth thinking about—how can we each access that free, infinitely creative place inside ourselves to build a world that works? -ed

When I began teaching piano over twenty five years ago, I instinctively used improvisation to help my students develop their musical sensibility. The piano is a perfectly suited instrument for this kind of endeavor. Sitting side by side, I play a melodic accompaniment in the bass, creating a rhythmic field of sound, while encouraging the student to explore and experiment on the keyboard.

No music books are needed. Regardless of age or level of experience—it could be a 6 year-old having her first lesson—I have observed that almost everyone discovers an unexpected and unfamiliar freedom. This is the revelatory wonder of finding a new “voice”—a means of expression that is natural, and even beautiful.

Last fall, I began teaching piano at the Riverbrook Residence for developmentally disabled women in Stockbridge, MA. Located amidst the pastoral Berkshire Hills, Riverbrook is home to twenty-three women. Under the direction of Joan Burkhard, a committed staff is creating the optimum conditions for women with developmental disabilities to be supported in every dimension of life.

Prior to working at Riverbrook, I had no experience teaching music to people with developmental disabilities, such as autism, Down’s syndrome, blindness, and cerebral palsy.  Because Riverbrook is a rare and special place where women can trust and let go, I began to let go. The women’s unselfconscious faith in me was striking. I began to open my ears, eyes and heart, accessing a freer place in myself while simultaneously bringing it forth in them. I started to listen more closely to the music emerging from each woman, unhindered by any preconceived notion of what I thought it should sound like.

I find myself disarmed by the result. Each woman’s musical expressiveness is highly individual and, at the same time, transmits exactly the same qualities—freedom, naturalness, and authenticity. These qualities are more rare than we may realize, even in the music of accomplished performers. And yet, my experience at Riverbrook is confirming that beauty arises from the deepest level of being—it is a universal dimension of the human soul unfettered by any limitation.

One of my students is named Tanny Marie Labshere. She has been blind since birth and learned to play piano at the Perkins Institute for the Blind. Tanny has an extraordinary ear for music, but when I first began to work with her she played mechanically, dispassionately. I have spent a good part of our lessons improvising with her. I encourage her to connect to her hands on the keyboard, to lean into the piano as she plays, to hear the nuance of tone from soft to loud, to listen to my playing as I accompany her and listen to hers.

Listening and connecting

I recently recorded a performance in which Tanny and I are playing a piece we developed through improvisation. When I played the audio back to her a few days later, she seemed unable to connect to what she was hearing. “I can’t believe that I’m able to create something beautiful,” she said. “Why not?” I asked her. She didn’t know.  I didn’t, either. I sensed, though, that the difficulties she experienced in her early life and the dark world she inhabits have kept her separate from that part of herself that is inherently free and expressive.  “Whenever you have any doubt that you can create beauty,” I told her. “Then listen to this recording.”

I am exploring the wider implications of what I’ve described here. The next post, coming soon, is tentatively titled, “Music in an Age of Global Warming.” Videos of my piano improvisations with Tanny will be posted on YouTube in the coming weeks.