Falling Lessons

“So basically,” Shane was saying, “improvising is like falling.”
“How exactly is improvising like falling?” I asked, confused about the strange analogy.
He looked at me strangely then, as if he was surprised at my sudden burst of confidence. I guess I couldn’t really blame him, considering I had barely spoken two sentences throughout the entire day.

Today was my introductory lesson to this new, alien genre. Shane had spent all morning guiding me through how to set up the electric piano and the importance of having a sound check, not to mention the different knobs and jack points in an amp. It was honestly a blur of cords, wires and cables. As well as a complete miracle I hadn’t yet tripped over anything, knowing me and all…
But honestly, I had learnt so much! Today I was actually so focussed! I had never been able to focus around him before!

I hadn’t trusted myself to speak much today, in case I’d say something hilariously stupid. And truth be told, I was almost 100% sure that today would be an epic fail, but Shane was surprisingly a really good teacher. He made everything sound so interesting because he was so passionate about every aspect of it; you just couldn’t help but become interested too.

I wish I could be like that…

“Um… Lisa?” he peered closer, waving a hand in front of my face, “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” I snapped out of my day dream with a slight flinch. “Sorry, just a tad tired,” I lied.
“Are you sure?” his asked again, frowning,

And suddenly, before I knew what was even happening, I had begun to zone out again, looking in those hypnotising eyes which seemed to be filled with concern at my pathetic little day dream. Without meaning to, I had locked my eyes with his, and was met by the same look of longing and desire I felt radiating from my own.

Was I just imagining? Or…

Back out now, Lisa

And I did. Because it would be wrong. He wasn’t only a friend, but also a teacher now. And I’d finally gotten used to being around him. I couldn’t risk losing all that. Not when so much was at stake here.

No.

I couldn’t go there. That would be selfish and stupid. So blatantly stupid.
I looked up at him again, but thankfully, the moment had passed.

“So,” I began, trying to remember what we had been talking about before.
“Uh...” Shane laughed nervously too at first, as if he also had trouble remembering. Then he continued, “Improvising is like falling,” he said, slipping back into his ‘teaching’ voice.

“How?”

He cleared his throat before continuing, “Well, thinks of ‘falling’ as an action,” he began to explain another one of his genius concepts.
I leaned in to listen more intently.

This was going to be interesting, I thought

“First you’re walking along a path, then suddenly, something - a step or root or whatever- pops out from nowhere and causes you to trip, right?” He paused, to check if I was following,
I nodded.
“Right, so, for that split second you fall, your brain does a million things to prevent you from landing flat on your face,” He paused again as I hung my head, unable to see any connection between the two things.
“Your other leg might jerk out to break the fall,” he prompted, listing all the possibilities to see if I might get it, “or both your arms might fling out on either side of you, to grab whatever that might help you steady yourself.”
“Okay,” I said, but still unable to see any connection.

“Whatever you do to stop yourself from falling,” He continued, “For example, your brain, making all those decisions on the spot without any previous planning… That’s Improvisation.” His eyes gleamed now with excitement, and pretty soon, I could feel the enthusiasm glowing and reflecting from mine.
“So they want you to fall…” I said slowly, as everything began to click into place, “But you’re trying to prove them wrong?”
“Exactly!” He smiled, “Pretty cool analogy huh?”

You’re such a dork! I wanted to say,

But instead, I just smiled back, it wasn’t as if I could talk anyway, I was pretty dorky as well as everything else.

For a moment, there was a nice companionable silence. One that I was enjoying way too much if my jolting, as he suddenly sprang up, was any indication.

“Let’s improvise!” He said, taking my hand suddenly, and dragging me to the piano, only stopping briefly to pick up his guitar. But before I could comment about him holding my hand, he’d dropped it again, and began to tune.
I stood by the piano stool, stunned and unsure of what to do.
“What?” He smiled cheekily, “Sit down!”

Just pretend it never happened, I told myself, It’s easier that way…

So I sat down, and began to vamp like he’d taught me to earlier today. It was a groovy little riff if I may say so myself, based on the classic 12-bar-blues structure. Too bad it was just a template and not one I’d completely made up myself.
“Solos!” He called out, after we had repeated the head a couple of times.
“Uh, You first!” I called back, only to be answered by a know-it-all confident laugh.

Out of habit, I glanced back at him briefly, and was once again in awe at what I saw.
It was like he had completely discarded his casual personality and dressed himself in something much more serious and professional. His entire face was filled with a strange complexity and yet was also tranquil at the same time.

Turning to face the piano again, I concentrated on accompanying him the best I could. It took skill, one ear listening to what he was coming up with, extracting ideas, themes, whilst the other tried to keep my accompaniment interesting and alive.
Oh it took skill alright.
My face in the reflection of the piano smiled back at me. It was glowing, proud, happy. And strangely enough, instead of being irritated this time, I felt an increase of confidence.

I can do this! I thought, I really can!

For once in my life since childhood, I was content.
Shane continued to play his heart out. I don’t think I could ever cease to be amazed at this devotion and love for this art. It was so similar and yet also so different to what I was used to.
With a final rev of the tonic chord, warmed with distortion, he finished his solo while I continued to toy around with the chord progressions already feeling the butterflies begin to engulf me.
“Your turn!” He called.

Just breathe, I told myself, my heart pounding as if my life depended on it.

“I got your back.” He reminded me, giving a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, it’s only me.”
I nodded, thinking back to the conversation we’d had earlier in the day. He’d explained patiently how improvisation, although it looked like you were on your own, was actually a team thing. Everyone else was just behind the scenes, watching, listening, and always ready to catch you if you fell.
Not that they wanted you to fall or anything. It was just reassuring to know that there are always people on your side to cover for you if you screw up. It was ensemble awareness on a whole new level. It really puts us classical musicians, with our heads buried in our scores all the time, to shame.

“Go,” Shane encouraged, tapping the beat with his foot whilst simultaneously strumming a rhythmic accompaniment similar to the groove I was vamping on the piano.

Go, go, go, his voice echoed around in my head, calming, soothing.

At first, I failed. Giving too much thought to the fact that I was having to improvise, I panicked pathetically and as a result, my ‘solo’ consisted of singular notes played in the most random of places. There was not even a melody, let alone a motif, or structure. It was anything but music, and by the fourth bar, I had already dipped my face, flushed with embarrassment, down in shame.

“Keep going.” Shane’s voice was gentle, but firm.

Reluctantly, I swallowed my pride, lifted my head and tried again. I decided to play the accompaniment to get back into the groove. When I could finally feel myself relaxing, I gave a small nod to Shane, who returned a smile of encouragement.
Closing my eyes this time, I allowed my fingers move themselves. Before I knew what was happening, I could already feel them running up and down along the black and white keys, telling the world my story, melodically, rhythmically, but most important of all, stylistically.
12 bars later, I found the courage to open my eyes again, unsure of what to expect from Shane. To my complete and utter surprise, he was grinning wider than ever.

“That’s it!” He laughed, “You’re falling!”

Completely carried away by the music now, I was unable to reply, but gradually returned back to the original groove.

Wow! I thought, That was amazing!

I had actually improvised! And the strange thing was that being a classical musician and growing up with all those rules and regulations, I had never expected breaking them to feel so good!