Have you ever heard the story of Jacob McGrimes?
It started innocently enough. It was piano recital day. His piece was ready to go.
He was a little nervous. But his teacher assured him there was nothing to worry about. This is normal. Just have fun.
It was Jacob’s turn to play. As he approached the piano, he could feel all eyes on him.
The performance started well enough. But then, disaster struck. He couldn’t remember where his right hand needed to shift. He froze.
Snapping himself out of it, he scrambled for the notes.
Was it C? No, it must be E.
As he frantically played random notes, searching, he could feel judgement weighing down on him.
Out of desperation, he skipped a couple measures and got back on track. The rest of the piece went great. But he knew it was too late.
As he stood up to bow, no one applauded.
In fact, the audience was so upset, the rest of the recital was canceled so everyone could go home and grieve.
One family was so upset, they called the local news to report the story.
It was featured on the 10 o’clock news that evening. Witnesses of the event expressed how appalled and upset they were.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with this generation.”
“None of us knew he was capable of such things.”
“Back in my day, we didn’t make mistakes.”
Jacob and the McGrimes family declined to comment.
The next morning, the story was featured on the front page of the local newspaper.
Jacob struggled with life every day after that recital. Everyone in town knew what he’d done. He couldn’t face his piano teacher, or any of his teachers ever again.
He tried moving to another town, but no one wanted to teach him.
His reputation followed him. They knew he was “that kid who missed a few notes on the recital.”
And so he did what most others would have done. He grew up and became a music critic.
He now resides alone in his mountaintop home, themed like the lair of the Grinch.
And they say if you stand in just the right spot on a full moon with a broken piano string, you can hear Jacob’s whisper in the wind.
“It was D, damn it.”
The moral of the story?
We come up with funny, absurd narratives about making mistakes in performances.
The reality?
Most audience members can’t hear mistakes, if they were even paying attention to begin with. In fact, mistakes often make the performance more interesting.
Kind of like seeing a tightrope walker almost fall.
And nobody remembers the mistakes the next day. Or probably ever.
So, when your brain freaks out about performing or making a mistake, calm down. You know better.
And now, a moment of silence for everyone who thought this was a real story.
I can relate to this story!! At the SSPS January live recital, I was scheduled to participate. I was a little nervous but mostly excited. I had really worked hard practicing my piece and at home, my family was excited for me cause I could play it well.
Sunday, before the recital I warmed up on the gorgeous Steinway grand piano ( I don’t feel worthy to play on such a beautiful instrument!!) & Jonathan gave me a few pointers to help me. The next run through was encouraging. Then came my turn to perform. I tried to remember all that Jonathan had encouraged me to do but I let my anxiety get the better of me a few times and it showed w a few mistakes. Generally it was ok but I had hoped for better.
I was excited by the comments a few of the parents had told me. “ I could never do that!!” “You are very brave to be the only adult among all the kids who played” the more I thought about my performance, I was less disappointed by my mistakes!! Thanks to everybody for the encouragement and support!!