Day 89, Monday March 30, 8.30 am: I'm not saying I failed my first piano exam. I'm just saying that, whatever the result, it was a close-run thing. I'll just have to wait and see.
Which is, of course absurd. I mean, I've been practssing assiduously for three months. All I had to do was play three pre-prepared pieces, answer a few questions and do a couple of scales and arpeggios. But as soon as I got there I got nervous My hands suddenly solidified, as if they were stuck in treacle. The examiner was nice enough, but distant-officious. That threw me. The last time I'd done an exam was as a schoolchild and that is what the environment made me feel like - a short-trousered, long-socked schoolchild.
It is no exaggeration to say that the score began to swim in front of my eyes. I could not see the music as I played - it simply blurred. That was no great problem as such - I knew it all by heart anyway - but it was very disconcerting. Worse still, my first practice was perfect. So, with a little time on my hands, I played the pieces again and made a mistake or two. So I had another go and made two or three, then three and four errors. The more I warmed up, the worse I got.
When the exam proper got underway, I played too fast, particularly the second piece, the Rumba, and botched notes all over the place.
Perhaps I should blame my piano teacher. Neal is a lovely fellow. But he says I nod my head like a pigeon when I play. During the exam, I could not get the image of a pigeon out of my head. He also told me that none of his pupils have ever failed the Initial Exam before. What he was saying, in effect, is that it's idiot-proof. But then, he's never tried to teach a pigeon encased in treacle before, has he? Pressure or what?
Neal's wife didn't exactly help either, choosing - rather thoughtlessly, it seemed to me - to have their second baby a week before my exam and thus meaning I missed out on my final lesson before the exam. Honestly - you'd think people could organise their diaries better and avoid such date clashes, wouldn't you?
At least the four-year-olds didn't turn up. Children as young as four take this exam. Bloody Dr Suzuki! Neal said I might find myself warming up for the exam with four and five and six-year-olds. I wonder what we would have talked about? The effect of the credit crunch? Global warming? The price of rusks and our favourite CBBC programme?
Fortunately I was at least spared that embarrassment. I was the only 'child' there.
I am not sure I did TRSNYRC particularly proud on Friday, for which I apologise. I'm still hoping I may have just scraped a pass. But I'm not convinced.
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