Yesterday ,without mandating, I asked all of my students to convert from live to Skype lessons. Fortunately, I am used to teaching through Skype so am able to walk people through the conversion. Some people felt a sense of relief at having the decision taken out of their hands, others came dragging their feet a little.
To begin, I need to send out a little introductory emoji who begins to wave, inviting my new Skype friend to join me in virtual world. Once my student “accepts” my emoji we can begin to chat. I can always tell when someone hasn't used Skype before - it is the shock at seeing yourself from a vantage point of just a few feet. Most people are startled back a bit: there is the tell-tale head snap, and then almost 100% of people adjust their hair in some way, immediately.
I keep a notebook and write notes during the lesson. This allows students to completely focus on their playing which is challenging enough in the best of circumstances. I have found that the cello's low-frequency notes, especially, work well through Skype, since Skype takes the low out of low-frequency so I can more easily hear the actual pitch, much to people's dismay at times.
Lessons normally begin with chatting about the week of practice, defining a musical term I have given them and then opening their playing with a particular scale. They launch into the scale the first time with one eye on the screen, thinking they have to watch me and play. This can create a bit of a train wreck and so I assure them they can simply play their scale and I will take care of the rest. In running the notes, if I need them to stop, it does require me hollering at the screen and flapping my arms to get their attention.
At some point everyone begins to relax and forget about the camera. We laugh and joke normally and they can even tolerate leaning into the camera to make a point- this often creates what I call a “cyclops effect” if they come in too close. But it’s all good.
One of my concerns about the aftermath of Covid is the landscape of small business as we have known it. I worry that after a long period of time of running your restaurant as a take out operation, will it, perhaps, be easier to leave it that way? Or, can one person at a counter and two people loading trucks maintain a feed store - do we really need all that stock? Should we take down the plastic shields in front of the grocery clerks or does that make sense in the grand scheme of things anyway. And do they come bullet proof?
One might use this same logic with virtual versus live music lessons. If you have virtual lessons, nobody has to drive to the lesson. Mud season...no problem from your living room. Lessons begin and end promptly, you can fix your hair and be sure you don't have food in your teeth and, if things are set up correctly, you can study in your pajama bottoms. What you can't do is come in from the cold and feel the welcome of the studio, you can't play duets, I can't correct your hand position by moving it, can't hug you when you leave. You can't pat my sheep or dogs and, YOU CAN'T GET CHOCOLATE.
However, I'll take any virtual over no music. It allows me to joke with David from his man-cave, wave at Betty from Ellen's living room, meet Jeff's poodle, help Suzette decide what color beret to wear and watch Chris play Kol Nidre from the view at his feet.
I can do without going to the movies, out to dinner and shopping, but I cannot do without music. It continues to connect us on a level that nothing else does.
So come tomorrow morning, I will be sitting at the bar, in the warm sunshine of my kitchen, unfolding my computer and checking my hair, starting another day of teaching- virtual style.
Melissa Perley