My mother, Linda Hartley, recently documented a great personal story relating to music and the challenges she has faced playing piano. Even close family or friends may not know this about her. Below are her own words:
Linda F. Hartley:
Hymns Strengthened My Faith
Prayer Conquered My Fears
For me, playing the piano in the Frye family was not an option but a requirement. It was, “As long as you live in this house young lady, you will continue playing until you are 18.” (So said my father, Navy Lt. Commander Kenneth L. Frye.) I wanted to quit many times during my teens. What was the purpose of playing Bach, Scarlotti, Beethoven, Debussy, Mozart, Hadyn, studying music theory, performing in piano recitals and competitions, and hours of mental “torture” at the piano? I was not as gifted as my older siblings, Cheryl and Ronald. At the time, I believed Cheryl and Ronald were our piano teacher’s favorites. Me? Runt of the litter, but hey…at least “You play with such feeling,” said Mom and Dad. My older brothers Ken and Michael lucked out of playing the piano. Hmmm. Not fair, I bemoaned.
From ages seven to 15, I trained under the tutelage of Mrs. Leila B. Courvoisier, a long-time professional music teacher, formerly on the faculty of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. After Mrs. Courvoisier passed away, I continued my training for another three years under Mrs. Trula Whelan, a highly recommended pianist in Hayward, California. Both gave me strict and professional training and showed much love and patience. Their influence eventually blessed my life with a rich love of music, and the art of perfecting a skill many years to achieve. As much as I disliked practicing and performing, I continued my musical training after college and while teaching piano during the mid-1980’s to 1990.
One would think all my music training would make me feel confident and secure. Not as much actually. One of the reasons why my musical training and performing were a challenge for me may have been because of a learning disability that was not diagnosed until 1992 at the University of Utah, in the Department of Special Education. I was 41 years old. When my results came back, I met with clinical specialist, Michael Herbert. My strengths and weaknesses were discussed, and I received a hard copy of the evaluation. This new information about myself was one of relief, yet one of sadness and defeat. When I told him I played the piano, his eyes widened, fell back in his chair, and said, “That’s impossible. With these results, you shouldn’t be able to.”
Perhaps my near death after birth, my severe head injury at age four, and my ten-year history of epilepsy, contributed to my learning disability; I will never know.
December 2019. I was asked by the Hidden Village Ward’s music chairman if I would play four hymns for sacrament meeting on December 29, 2019. Little did she know of my moderate to severe anxiety playing hymns in a large group. The multi-tasking is challenging for me—looking at the music, noticing key changes from hymn to hymn, glancing at the chorister while making sure I do not lose my place, listening to the congregation, pedaling appropriately… and not to mention sweaty hands that may slip and play the wrong notes. Nevertheless, I accepted the assignment.
The Lord knew my fears. Daily, I prayed and practiced all four hymns over and over before December 29th. The mantra I was taught as a professional reading tutor was “PERFECT practice makes permanent.” That goes for music as well. After all, the old adage, “Practice makes perfect,” isn’t true. You can practice mistakes perfectly.
193 TOTAL MEASURES! I played no identifiable mistakes and did not lose my place. Fear was replaced with faith. Prayer conquered my fears.
The lyrics from the hymn, Be Still, My Soul, sang to
my soul. The Lord might as well have intended them for me.
Be still, my soul, The Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev’ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
---
Written by Linda F. Hartley, December 2020