COVIDiaries 2 - Teaching

The perfect reason to Netflix.

I've never used so much whatsapp in my life. Finland has been shut down, and all music schools have moved their teaching into Internet World. The past week has been a crash course on online teaching, and the biggest surprise for me has been just how much time it takes. "Normal" teaching doesn't actually require that much planning - of course you have to have a plan, find material etc, but it also very often happens that you just improvise on the lesson based on your gut instincts. For me, most of the ideas for a particular student come from being in the same space with them, talking, noticing what's going on. You might sense that the student is not really into a particular piece and you change it, you might notice that now we need something that is lighter, something that challenges the left hand, now we really should compose something, or maybe we need to sit down and draw some notes today. You're alive at the moment and try to sense how the student is reacting to what you throw at them. Figuratively. You should never throw objects at students, just so you know.

Online you Really Have To Have A Plan. You have to have all the material, so many videos, recordings, work sheets, ideas, and you have to explain everything without touching the student or guiding their movement in any way - often the connection is a bit late, so that's an extra concern - and the student should be getting something out of all this. Also, if you teach via whatsapp like me, you have to hold your damn phone in your hand All The Time, and look at the stupid little picture of your own face in the corner. One embarrassing detail I realised was that I don't have the books the students play from. I've just always looked at their books, so I never really had the need to buy them for myself - and now I found myself mumbling something about the song with the picture of the person with the thing on page something at the kind of end of the book, or maybe halfway, it was called cat something or maybe it was a mouse? Somehow I remember all the songs, but not their names or the pages they're on. Not great. Also I'm very used to writing instructions down to the students' notebooks, and stopping them while they play and showing something from the score. Now all the stopping amounts to is "what? what did you say? oh this bar? no that? what note? what?" - so helpful and productive.

I've discovered that I can't faultlessly play everything my students play, at least on the first attempt of recording, and I decided to embrace that. Let the students hear the Unedited Truth of "whoops, what was that". I'm very proud of myself for not swearing, not even once. And now I have an extensive collection of practicing tapes for all kinds of hands, with or without accompaniments, to completely random songs. My poor neighbours.

What's been fun to see is all the pianos of all the students. Most of them I've never seen before, and many were proud to introduce me to their home companions. Also a great opportunity to check how they sit - most of them too low. All in all it's weird, staring at the phone and the laptop, hoping your good intentions travel through bits and pixels.

Other things I've done apart from online teaching:

• Cooked food from an actual cookbook and expected praise from others living in the house. What they really said was "well, I'd never make this again".
• Tried to explain to a neighbour why they would have to protest play their electric guitar a bit less loud while I'm recording Itzy bitsy spider and Mary had a little lamb.
• Bought a long and complicated boardgame to take this relationship stress test to a whole new level.
• Looked at the intellectual books I borrowed from the library before it closed. Couldn't be bothered to openany of them.
• Almost finished knitting a sock.

COVIDiaries 1

Keeping busy...

In the beginning there was something weird in China. Well, nothing that concerns us. Then yesterday the Finnish government announced that everything will be closed from now until forever. It happened pretty fast. A week ago I was rehearsing Turandot - the premiere would have been the upcoming Saturday. Then they cancelled all performances of more than 500 people. Alright, we thought, we can still go through with this, no need to panic. Other people panicked, however, and the supermarkets ran out of toilet paper, pasta, and crushed tomatoes. (Apparently this is what Finnish people need in case of emergency. Also pea soup cans were popular.) The other person who lives in this house fell into this ruse and also bought the pasta and tomatoes. We can now comfortably feed ten people for a week, but with a very limited diet.

Then on Saturday things started to happen. Suddenly everything was cancelled. My whole Spring - luckily not hundreds of gigs but enough to put butter on my toast - just cancelled. No butter, then. At least there was the toast, the teaching, that would continue as normal because surely they wouldn't shut down the schools?! Come Monday - schools closed. Alright. Most music schools in Finland continue teaching online, which is a new and frightful thing for us all. 

So, after a brief meltdown and panic about lost income, it was time to come up with solutions. Most of my Monday and Tuesday have been spent on informing students about this minor change to their lesson routine, and on planning the actual execution of the fact that I've promised to do this. There's a facebook group that shares thoughts and tips on online teaching, which is immensely helpful. It's going to be great, I'm sure (, she said, not looking exactly confident.)

Apart from coming up with online platforms and assignments for teaching, what can you do to weather the storm? Here's my unabridged advice from week No. 1:

• Clean house, clean mind. Already on Saturday I started to compulsively polish everything. It really helps to make me feel like I'm doing something useful, and it helps me feel like I'm in control, and after it's nicer to think about just how desperate I am in a spotless house.
• Buy wine and spirits. If Alko closes (Finland has a state monopoly on shops that sell strong alcohol), we're fucked. So yesterday we went to buy necessities, aka. gin and red wine, and immediately I was able to breathe a bit more freely.
• Since there's a significantly reduced amount of money coming in, reduce what's going out. I canceled what subscriptions I could, and applied for pause in my student loan payments. At least in Finland you can apply for this for some months if your financial situation gets shaky. Now might be the time to contact your union, too - are there any benefits you're entitled to?
• Make sure you have books. The libraries were open today for the last time in who knows how long, so I filled my bag with books. I recommend a variety - some poetry, something that makes you feel intelligent, and something easy.
• Puzzles help. They calm the mind and give you something to do when there's not much to do.
• If there are more than one of you in your house, make sure at least someone has noise-canceling headphones. They will save your sanity and the relationship.
• You will think this is a great chance to exercise, start yoga and jogging, and build a new you. It won't take you that many days to discover that the new you looks pretty much exactly like the old you who mainly watches netflix and takes naps on the couch. Remember that it's all about taking care of yourself - isn't that what everyone's been saying these past few days? Stay safe and all that jazz. Well. Where am I safer than on my own couch?!
• Follow the news with cynical, noncommittal interest. This too shall pass.

On Neighbors

A musician is not always a pleasant thing to their neighbors, but we can try. Here's how.

1. Soundproofing

There's not that much one can do to a piano - if you're rich, you can "float" the room, making it completely soundproof, or you can buy a detached house and take neighbors out of the equation. If you exist on a (musician's) normal income, however, your options are a bit more limited.

I used to diminish the sound by having a big blanket between the wall and the piano, but it didn't look all that elegant. So last week I devoted some time to a craft project: I bought foam sheets usually used in cars and glued them together to form one large sheet. Then I taped it to the backside of the piano with two-sided tape and that was that. Basically it reduces the sound about as much as a thick blanket would, but it's a much tidier-looking thing and doesn't gather all that dust. If you're interested, you can find these sheets from Biltema, for instance (thanks for the tip, piano tuner Tuomas Sievänen - his page www.sievanen.fi has a lot of good advice on soundproofing in Finnish).

Foam, two-sided tape, and the yellow felt meant to be under the piano.

Messy business, gluing the thing.

End result: barely noticeable 

The biggest issue is the noise going straight to the house structure from the wheels or the base of the piano. That carries very well and it's difficult to do anything about it. I've tried the solution recommended by F-musiikki: I have plastic cups under the wheels, and they have two extra tricks: a piece of felt under them, and a piece of rubber on them to block the sound.

Ta-dah!

Last but not least you can put a thick carpet under the piano, or use noise reducing felt - I already bought some, but that redecorating is still under progress.

Made to measure? Not quite...

2. Communication

Whenever I move to a new flat, I try to introduce myself to at least the closest neighbors - the ones I'm most likely to annoy. I tell them I'm a pianist and practice at home, and I ask them to come let me know if my playing disturbs them at some point. I've learned that people react to noise (aka. music) much better when they know what it's about: who's making it and why, and how to make it stop if necessary (by ringing the doorbell). One particularly adorable example of the latter is from a couple of years back.
I was practicing on a Monday morning when my doorbell rang. My downstairs neighbor had come to say hi looking really quite hungover. He told me that he'd been partying the previous night and the piano was not making him feel any better about himself, so he was going to go for a walk. He then politely asked how long his walk would have to be so that he could return to a quiet home. We agreed on half an hour, and everyone was happy. Not all the neighbors are as kind as he was - I have had some very loud rock music played on top of my more classical soundscape, which turned into a long and nasty argument about who has a right to play what and when, and what is just plain bullying.

The truth is that you can't please everyone and someone is going to get upset whatever you do, but you can still try to do the polite thing. I practice only at daytime when most people are at work, and I keep the amounts small. If I have to play a lot, I go to a rented space elsewhere or I switch to a keyboard with headphones. But as much as I'm taking others into account, it's important to remember that as a musician I have a right to practice at home. I'm being as considerate as I can, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to play and practice my profession at home. Communicating with neighbors is key, but if they're insisting you're a disturbance, bullying you somehow, or you just can't agree on what's decent, you can contact the housing manager (isännöitsijä) and the board of the housing company (taloyhtiön hallitus) to settle the matter. If you're renting, your landlord should be made aware of what's going on, too, and he might be able to help you. You have rights, too.

Hopefully you'll never have to act on my advice. It could be that all your neighbors now and forever passionately love listening to music being practiced (a whole different thing from music being played). One neighbor of mine told me, when I went to talk to her about my playing and asking if she minds it, that she really likes to listen, and the only thing that bothers her is that she doesn't know what the pieces are. That was such a lovely thing to say.
May all your future neighbors think like that.