I’m planning to work on Beethoven’s Pathetique this summer; my teacher thinks it’ll help me improve my physical skills. She told me that she intended for me to eventually play a concerto, with a real orchestra. The piano has just been a personal hobby for me, something I hanker away at after school for fun; I’ve never expected that it would get this far. It’s very exciting to think about playing in front of a real audience like that—to no longer just be some nobody kid in the suburbs, but a real pianist, making a real contribution to music.
The last time I performed in public was when I was ten. I was admitted to a school talent show to play the piano. I still remember that night—wearing my mom’s fancy necklace and a glittery black dress, I stepped out of my parents’ car into the cold night air, heading to the school’s music room, which was filled with other performers. Some kids were dancers, others solved Rubik’s cubes. The room was alive with murmur; I remember seeing one vomit from nervousness. At last, it was my turn. I stepped out of the music room, onto the stage in the adjacent cafeteria. Being in the warm limelight, seeing the hundreds of faces in the shadows, it felt almost surreal, as though I were watching myself from a screen. The keys felt far away, and I pressed them almost mechanically. But when I stood up, the life returned to me, and the whole cafeteria erupted into applause. When I returned to the music room with the other performers, they all began clapping—they’d heard it as well.
But that was long ago. Life got in the way, and for years I stopped playing the piano altogether... No more limelight, just an ordinary life of homework, books, and AP classes, even when I started playing again. Sometimes I wonder how far I would’ve gotten if that hadn’t happened. A few months ago, a friend and I saw a seventeen-year-old pianist, just two years older than us, perform Liszt’s First Piano Concerto with a local orchestra. Everyone gave him a standing ovation, and I even heard some remark that he was the best pianist they’d ever heard. We were nearly the same age and yet walked such different paths in life: he was up there on the stage, a whole audience before him, and I just another member of the crowd, filing away with the rest...
Now, though, there’s a chance things could change. Not to say I could become a pianist rivaling that fellow, but perhaps I could have the limelight once again.
Anyhow, thank you for your interest; I hope you’ve been well.