making noise

Q: What do the piano, the flute, the timpani, the violin and the lute all have in common?

A: They're all instruments that I've played, to one degree or another.

Apparently, I come from a rather musical lineage. My maternal great-grandfather and his brood were all musical, playing the fiddle and piano, mostly - although I seem to remember a great uncle playing the banjo and accordion as well.

My grandmother played the violin and piano - not well, by professional standards, but enough to lead the charge in friendly get-togethers. I don't think any of her children learned any instruments. If they did, they certainly didn't carry their talent into adulthood. But when I was five, it was decided that the torch would be passed to me. I was to take piano lessons, and there were hushed whispers that perhaps someday I would be a "real piano player." Or at least a teacher.

Sadly, it was not to be. I had neither the aspiration nor discipline required to succeed in the musical arena. In fact, when I recently interviewed piano player extraordinaire, William Joseph, I felt downright embarrassed admitting to him that I took piano lessons from the age of five up until university ... but I don’t really play. I don’t think someone like him could understand how such a thing could be possible.

But, contrary to my grandmother's disparaging remarks as great-grandchildren entered the scene that, "well, maybe we'll have a piano player in the family after all," (for the record, we still do not), it was not all for naught. That shaky musical foundation led me to pick up the flute in Grade 8 and teach myself the very, very basics before starting lessons so I could play in the school band. After three years of that, I decided to explore percussion and was handed a pair of timpani sticks and a brief introduction on how to tune the big, kettle drums before being let loose on them. Sometime after graduating from university I became curious about the violin and, knowing absolutely nothing about how it worked, sat down and worked out the note progression and then started scratching out some simple tunes. The more I played, the better I got, and although I wouldn’t dream of going head to head with a real fiddler, I can play well enough to entertain myself alone or with a small group of fellow amateurs on a quiet evening. The lute I picked up after interviewing a fascinating luthier/musician that I thought I had to learn music from. After three years of lessons, I can only really play Greensleeves and a small handful of early music songs - but it was worthwhile in that I met my husband, a fellow student, through him.

You know the saying, “jack of all trades, master of none?” That’s me, that is. But I’ve come to believe that you don’t have to reach a professional level in order to get something out of a musical life. Whether it’s a love of singing despite a warbley voice, or a rudimentary grasp of an instrument that you pick up only once every couple of months, having that outlet is a special thing. So while I never met the aspirations of my mother or grandmother, they gifted me with a creative outlet that has made my life (if not my neighbours when I pull out the old fiddle now and then) richer and more complete.

I hope to pass this heritage on to my own children. With no expectations other than finding a happiness in making music.... Although I’ll let them know that their grandmama would be ecstatic if there was finally a real piano (or violin) player in the family. No pressure, though....