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My Journey Into Learning Jazz
After twenty-two years of classical it’s time for a change
When I was in college as a Piano Performance major, I remember seeing a guy on campus casually playing jazz in one of the practice rooms. Later that year I saw him accompany a play that some people from school had put on at a local theater. The way he played mesmerized me. It fit the scenes perfectly. And it was just good music. When I came to learn he’d improvised all of it, I was blown away.
On top of that, he seemed to be actually enjoying himself. Whereas I wasn’t. I was slaving away in practice rooms hours on end, day-after-day, without even having fun. I’m sure much of it had to do with the intrinsically competitive nature of conservatory life. (I was really skilled at comparing myself to others.) Regardless, beautiful music was flowing out of this person whenever he wanted, whereas I had put myself on a strict practice schedule. My days passed under the dark cloud of self-shaming that I had never practiced enough.
This led to a musical burnout so severe that I couldn’t touch a piano for years afterward.
In many ways this was my “hero’s journey”. The decent into the unknown where everything that made me what I thought I was, suddenly was stripped away. I identified myself as a pianist. A musician. And I was going…
