Homage to a Great One

When I was 16 years old or so, I had an opportunity to learn piano from one of the great instructors in our community.  Nevelyn Knisely was a retired professor from Lebanon Valley College, a local college which specializes in music performance and instruction.  My mother had apparently asked a friend from church whose husband also works at the college for references of a good piano instructor for me.  I loved playing and had somewhat outgrown my previous teachers.  Our friend recommended Nevelyn highly, and I began playing again under her tutelage.

We focused primarily on modern classics with swift tempos which would entertain audiences.  Nevelyn enjoyed fast fingers, and had be practicing with two-handed double octave scales.  I tired of that quickly and soon wanted to quit.  I preferred to play pieces for enjoyment, and could not be bothered with rote scales, as cool as they were at first.  

I remember having her call on the phone, after my mom told her I wanted to stop.  "Please don't quit," she said.  "You've got such talent.  It would just be such a shame to see you quit.  Please just keep on playing.  We don't have to do scales."  So I continued on.  

Somewhere in my home I'm sure I have the recital pieces we played.  She would have each of her students do a solo piece, and then at the end she did 4 handed duets with all of us.  Those were some of the funnest pieces, and truly instilled a joy in me for playing which I had not experienced doing solos. 

Several years ago when I first began playing on my electric piano (gasp!), I had a prompting that when I returned to Pennsylvania, I ought to see if I could find Nevelyn and thank her for keeping me going.  When I returned, I asked my friend if Nevelyn was still alive, and she said that she was, but that she had Alzheimer's and was living in a nursing home.  I was prompted to go find her and play for her, even if she couldn't remember me.  But I let life get in the way.  

Eight days ago, as I sat down to practice the organ music for the upcoming Sunday, I had a similar prompting.  Go play for Nevelyn.  Music speaks to the mind and heart in ways that words cannot always reach.  Even if she wouldn't remember me, maybe the music would speak to her?  So at church the next day, I asked my friend again, "Have you heard how Nevelyn is?  Is she still among the living?"  She confirmed that she believed so, and that she was still in the nursing home.  

I intended to go visit her later that day, and got distracted.  I also felt lazy, and was intimidated with trying to figure out how to find her at this nursing home.  Really, could it be all that hard?  So I neglected the prompting, again.  

Thursday night... reminded in spirit again... Go play for Nevelyn.  

Friday afternoon, received an email from my friend.  She says it's interesting that I asked her last Sunday how Nevelyn was, as she had passed away the night before.  Ugh.  No.  No, no, no!  

Here is her obituary.  Her work was so prolific that they named an award at the college after her.  What a rare feat!  What a woman!

I am convinced that she was one of the great ones referenced in Abraham 3:22.  

Now the Lord had shown unto me, Abraham, the intelligences that were organized before the world was; and among all these there were many of the noble and great ones; And God saw these souls that they were good...

Reading Nevelyn's obituary inspires me.  It's amazing what one person can fit into a lifetime, all before 16 years of Alzheimer's.  Today in Sunday School, the mutual friend from church mentioned that Luke 24:32 inspired the song "Thy Spirit Lord, Has Stirred Our Souls".  I have to believe that Nevelyn surely received the spiritual gift of music, and transferred the blessing of it to hundreds, if not thousands of individuals.  What a gift to the planet!  Thank you, God, for sweet Nevelyn Knisely.  I am truly sorry I didn't follow that prompting, as it would have been a memorable gift to have played for her one last time.  I keep praying that a raincheck will suffice, and maybe someday we'll have a chance to play together again.  I really hope so.  In the meantime I'll keep practicing, even if I'm wearing headphones and "no one else" can hear me.   

Glory to God

Last week I got to perform a somewhat difficult number on the piano, to accompany a friend at church.  She was singing "Gesu Bambino" for a Relief Society Christmas dinner, and gave me the music to learn just under a week before we were to perform it.  I practiced my heart out, and when the night of the performance came, I prayed.

I've played the piano since I was very young, so I would say to most, with an aire of humility, that I'm a pretty good pianist.  I can sightread well, differentiate a singer's wishes with ease, and do quite well accompanying.  But usually, at least once a song, there are flub-ups, especially if I haven't had months to hone the piece.  With months of practice, I can play a song with my eyes closed.  This was not the case last week.

However, last week I tried something different.  Typically before a performance, I will pray and ask God to help me perform well.  I ask to not make a fool of myself, not lose pages off the piano, not lose my place, not have a train wreck on the keys.  All of these have happened to me or others, so I pray that none of those things will happen.  Often I'll pray while I'm playing a song, so when anxious jitters come, they will hopefully quickly dissipate and allow me to focus on the notes with clarity.

What was unique about last week's performance was that I had 5 friends attending the event who were not members of my faith.  They decided on a whim, after I had invited them earlier that day, that they would join the activity, and it would be their first encounter in an LDS meetinghouse.  (Who could turn down a free dinner with free babysitting and great music and devotions?)  Before I left the house, I prayed, fervently, that the night would be inspiring for them.  That they would be uplifted, draw closer to God, and be edified by the events.  I prayed for help in playing this newly learned song, for no disasters, and for any glory that I might receive to be given to HIM, rather than to me.  I didn't desire any attention, and recognition, any praise for my skills and lifetime of practice.  I asked for maybe a little inspired help from the composer, if such a thing were possible.  None of this has ever occurred to me before as something to pray for, besides basic enlightenment or edification for the audience.

Beautifully enough, my fingers played well.  One of my best performances ever, I would say.  Beautiful piano and fortissimo sounds, beautiful changes in pace and spacing.  Dramatic sounds, beautiful words sung by the vocalist.  No train wrecks, no lost pages, no losing my place on the page.  I think my fingers may have missed one note.  Just one.  

Interestingly, no one really said anything to me, besides my mom, pointing out mildly that it sounded nice.  One of the sisters commented in her talk that she believed angels were singing with us tonight, which is something else I added to my prayer request.  But beyond that, I got no glory.

It was awesome.