Today I had a very interesting (to me) experience in relation to my musical memory. My Grandmother has recently been moved into a aged-care centre for her worsening condition of Alzheimer's Disease, and I visited her there for the first time, today. The centre had an old piano sitting in the corner, and I was politely asked to play.

It was a very 'interesting' piano. It was a rather dilapidated old "Challen." Not an unfamiliar brand to me, as my school used to have one a few years ago, albeit that one was slightly more modern. At first glance it looked quite pretty, a very sturdy looking design, with some nice patterns in the wood and so on. I lifted the lid and that was were the 'pretty' stopped. The keys were all dirty and sticky, there was even what looked like a splatter of blood in the middle somewhere. (some history there? :D) Also rather odd, was that there was no music stand/desk on it. Not even any screw-holes where one could have once belonged.

Anyway, I sat down at the piano, and ran a few little scales, not really knowing quite what to expect. I became quite disappointed as the piano was really far more out of tune than in. Not just one note here and there, nearly every single string seemed to be at a different frequency. I thought I'd start with something simple that I remembered and knew well. I began playing the Bach C Major Prelude, followed by the fugue. I thought it should be no trouble, but having not planned on this impromptu performance, I had no music. I would say that my memory for music is very good, and normally have no trouble playing this piece, or any piece, from memory, even that morning I played it through it fine without hiccup from memory! Anyway, about halfway through the prelude, I began to get disorientated by all the out of tune notes, and I sort of lost track of the progression. I stumbled through to the end and reached the fugue. I started playing, subject statement, fine. Entry of the next voice, fine. And the next, also fine. Then I began to get confused, it wasn't sounding at all like it should do, what's going on? I lost my way and just started again. Same thing happened. This time I gave up and moved on to the C minor P+F instead. Similar things happened. My dad suggested I play some Chopin, again, similar mishaps.

It left me feeling a fair amount embarrassed with myself, I've never had a problem like this playing from memory before. I doubt I could really be experiencing an early onset of my Grandmother's Alzheimer's at 16! I've been thinking about it and have come to the conclusion that it is probably the badly out of tune piano that put me off. Although I play on some fairly questionably tuned pianos quite regularly, not often do I play on something at the same level as this one. It's given me an interesting insight into how my brain must work, and although I can recite these pieces in my head, when I play it with my fingers, I must be relying on actually hearing what I expect in order to keep on playing. When my brain isn't hearing what it thinks it should, it just goes "Nope, try again!" and it forgets what it already knows back to front. This is a very unfortunate dilemma, but hopefully I'll be able to figure out a better system of memorizing that doesn't rely on hearing so much.


I don't really have any questions or anything like that. I just wanted to share the insight I had, otherwise I might forget it!

I think what you experienced is to be expected. Music is full of anticipation, tension/resolution, direction etc. If you don't hear those things unfolding as you play, it's very disorienting. Those things inform your fingers how to play. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with your brain. If anything, it shows that you are listening to what you are playing - which is a good thing. I'd almost be worried about somebody who could march through a Chopin Ballade on a terribly tuned piano with no problems!

Exactly what Ando says... You're doing VERY well to be listening and knowing what to expect to listen! If you do not get what you expect, it's only natural to get disorientated and eventually 'lose it'.

And it's very nice of you to play there...

I too think it's perfectly natural; for all the talk of muscle memory and whatnot it's undeniable that listening to what you play takes up an equally (if not more) important role. I can hardly play with my keyboard's transposition feature enabled, let alone on an out of tune piano.

Although come to think of it, this reminds me of a situation way back when I was learning piano at the age of 5 or 6. The piano in the classroom, for some reason, had its Bb tuned almost to a B, and the B itself was somewhat sharp, which I only discovered when I was asked to play a piece. After realising this, my fingers kept subconsciously veering towards the Bb when I was supposed to play a B, and being, well, not very experienced to say the least, I tripped up quite badly and couldn't continue playing. Somehow everyone else in the class didn't seem to have any problems though, I've no idea why ><

And I'll also echo Nikolas's sentiment, it was a sweet gesture, and I'm sure the folks there really appreciated it nonetheless.

Jolteon,
My late grandmother ended her life in a similar manner: running out of memory in an old age home surrounded by people in similar straights. It was sad to see her decline - she was a towering figure in my life and many other peoples' lives. She taught piano for more than 60 years and I can very well remember her playing Chopin's Military Polonaise on her gigantic 1910 Bell upright.

When I was in graduate school I used to go and visit her once every month or so. Sometimes she knew who I was, sometimes she was completely clueless (she once addressed me using one of her brothers' names - a brother who had died as a young man decades earlier). But I *always* tried to play the piano for her. The piano they had was a complete piece of junk - a sort of corny old electric job. Be ye gods did she love it. She may not have been certain who I was but she remembered who Bach was and it really didn't matter how badly I mutilated whatever I was played. When she did know who I was the main thing she seemed to feel was pride - showing me off to her assorted antique cronies.

Anyway good for you - keep doing this. It's not about the piano; it will be good for your soul and I guarantee your grandmother will appreciate it.

My grandmother was a Soprano in her day. She won the Australian National Concerto and Vocal Competition in 1958 (a big deal! it's one of the most esteemed competitions in the country) and had performed with most of the major orchestras is the country, and I have recordings of her with my state's orchestra singing Mozart. She took the plunge and decided to start a family instead of pursuing her career to its end.

Despite her memory issues, she is still able to sing. She remembers much of the music she must have sung in her day. On many an occasion in the last year or so, she has sung along to my mucking around with Mozart arias and even Chopin! When we first arrived at the home the other day, and sat down with her, about 5 minutes later, she had got up and walked over to a man's room from which there was music playing. She disappeared inside, and returned a few minutes later saying "isn't that music lovely!" Unfortunately, I was not able to recognise what it was, but there was a solo soprano part in it, so perhaps it was once in her repertoire! From this I gather that music is probably one of the few things she has in her life now that she can still enjoy. I have every intention to play for her every opportunity I have.

A little anecdote:
After I had stopped playing, the other day, and about 10 minutes later, an old man came into the room. He put his bag on the table, and made an effort to push the Piano Stool back under the piano. He lifted the lid on the top and looked at the insides of the piano for a moment, then he shut it and opened the fallboard. Still standing, he started playing. It was a little medley of things over a few chords in the left hand. I recognised some of the melodies he played, including God Save The Queen, Papageno's opening Aria from The Magic Flute and Mendelssohn's Wedding March from A Midsummer Night's Dream. He played for maybe a minute, before doing a 5-1 Cadence and abruptly shutting the fallboard again. He turned around, picked up his bag and left. We had given him some applause, but he didn't respond at all - quite somewhere in his own little world.

Going with the most recent theme, I know an elderly man (my mom's boyfriend's father, not related to me directly) who is in a similar condition. This past Christmas Eve I went to the retirement home where he lives with my mother and brother to keep him company. They have a basement recreation area with bowling, a small theatre, a barber's shop, pool and an electric grand. It was empty but for two other men playing cards. We played pool for a while, and some memories of his boarding school youth and how he met his late wife in university came back to him. He recounted those for a while, sometimes repeating the same story word for word a few minutes apart.

Near the end of the evening, I played two Mozart sonatas for him (K332 and K333). He sat right behind me and leaned in quite close, very intent, but the murmur from the two men playing cards was interfering with his hearing aids, distracting him. He became a bit grumpy, but my mother and brother managed to pacify him, and the two men left eventually. He wasn't a musicians, he was actually in business, but my mother told me that he would have classical music playing on the radio every Sunday all day long, so I imagine it brought back some memories of raising his children and relaxing at home when he was younger.

He keeps telling my mother that he wants to sponsor me, covering part of my entry fees in competitions, the cost of books and the upcoming expense of buying a grand (exciting and daunting!). Of course, I can't accept money from someone who wouldn't recall having offered it; it just wouldn't feel right. It's very flattering, anyhow, knowing he enjoys my music that much!

Just my addition to these wonderful stories. I have nothing to add to the OP that hasn't already been said.

It's interesting how some parts of memory last longer than others - or maybe how the brain and mind are compartmentalized. There's a chapter in the Oliver Sacks book Musicophilia about a man who, due to a damaged hippocampus has very profound memory defects. He's unable to form new memories that last more than a minute or so and often loses track of information like his own name. And yet, he retains most of his musical memory. Sacks describes him sitting down and playing the WTC without difficulty (the guy was a Bach specialist).

There are also interesting chapters in the Daniel Levitan book 'this is your brain on music' on how sound interacts with the brain. There are distinct bundles of nerves for hearing different pitches: we hear the pitch range of the voice of a child with different neurons than those we hear the pitch range of the female voice and so on for the male voice. Our relationship with sound is so intimate and extraordinary that maybe it's not so surprising that my Grandmother held on to her beloved Chopin longer than she did the names of her own children and grandchildren. I think of this sometimes when I'm working on a new piece.... it's a heavy thing!

Next time (if there is a next time to play this piano... maybe you could suggest it be tuned, or even contribute towards its tuning?) check under the lid. Often the music stand is folded away inside the piano, under the lid, not attached to the front of the piano.

The correct-sounding music is a very important cue to help one's musical memory. Especially with something like Bach, where the progression of the chord structure is so intricate!

Wonder what influence, playing on this out of tune piano, would have on your sight reading?