D Major
by: Billy Collins
A favorite
key signature
of pals
featuring,
as it does,
two sharps.
I studied music theory for a long time. Over ten years of piano lessons, plus a couple more years of organ lessons. I know all about which key signatures are most friendly (C, D, F, G, B-flat), which ones are foreign spies sent to kill you (C# Major anyone?).
It's a little psychological. I'm pretty good with key signatures that have a lot of flats. However, the more hashtags I see on a piece of music, the less likely I am to play it. My mind sort of fucks with me--bubbling with panic and nerves. No matter how many hours I've practiced, I will mess up any piece of music above E Major (four sharps).
I'm reminded of a scene from the movie Amadeus. Mozart is being addressed by Emperor Joseph II after a performance of one of Mozart's operas. Joseph looks at Mozart and says, "My dear young man, don't take it too hard. Your work is ingenious. It's quality work. And there are simply too many notes, that's all."
I've literally looked at a new song or prelude of interlude and said aloud, "Ingenious. Quality work. There are simply too many sharps."
Of course, you can't go through life avoiding all the sharps you encounter. If I did that, I wouldn't have so many college degrees. Or work at a library. Or write poetry. Or play the pipe organ at five different churches. Or have a blog. Or be married. Or have kids.
The key signature for life is C# Major. Sometimes B Major, if you're lucky. Either you practice and rehearse until you get it right, or you lock your front door and ignore the world completely. For me, even though I'm an introvert and would have no problem turning into Howard Hughes, I have to play the sheet music that's on the stand in front of me, no matter how many sharps or flats it contains.
Here is what I've learned after all these years: the more often you play a complex piece of music, the easier it becomes. Practice does indeed make perfect. Well, maybe not perfect. More like practice makes not humiliating or dangerous.
I tried this analogy on my son this afternoon. He's facing his first day behind the wheel in his driver's education class. He was n-e-r-v-o-u-s. However, he didn't appreciate my extended musical analogy. I believe what he said to me was, "Can you please stop talking?" I stopped.
Here's the thing about music: it's beautiful, regardless of the numbers of sharps or flats. It can lift you up. Keep you grounded. Inspire you. Make you sad. Just like life.
Saint Marty hopes his son has a C Major kind of day--no sharps, no flats, no red lights, no detours.
