~Ben Gao, Class of 2025

I started playing piano when I was four. The first six to seven years were pure labor. Every day, I was asked to practice for half an hour. I usually began five minutes late, had a water break in the middle, and then wrapped up five minutes early. At the time, the piano was incredibly dull to me. I did not care for it, and practicing was a daily chore I despised more than anything. 

I wanted to quit, but I knew my stereotypical Asian parents would not let me. My parents are first-generation immigrants from China, the first in their families to graduate from college. Growing up, quitting was never an option for me and my brother. My parents were always on the road chauffeuring my brother and me to swimming, rowing, baseball, or math classes, constantly pushing us to work harder.

Seeing the sacrifices my parents made for me and my brother, I knew I couldn’t quit regardless of how much I disliked the piano because, in our household, it is never acceptable. For a long period, my brother Ethan and I were in the same struggle, slacking whenever we got a chance when it came to piano. We were both in a downward spiral, competing to practice less without triggering a war at home. However, one day, I noticed Ethan started voluntarily spending more time at the piano. At the time, he was learning to play a piece called La Campanella, widely known as one of the most challenging works in the piano repertoire. Realizing he started to take piano more seriously, my competitive spirit began to emerge.

I have always been the better pianist, and I was determined not to let him surpass me. What started as a simple sibling rivalry in the summer of 2022 led to the most profound change in my musical career. After hearing that Ethan was learning to play La Campanella, I immediately asked my piano teacher if I could do so. While he told me I wasn’t prepared, I disregarded his advice and started to teach myself regardless. It couldn’t have been that hard to play, especially since I had already been playing for eight years. Nevertheless, when I tried to play the piece, I quickly realized that I hadn’t yet mastered the necessary finger techniques and skills to be capable of playing a piece of that caliber.

My fingers were not listening to me, and I could not hit the notes with the precision I desired. However, I knew practice was the key to success, so I began pouring several more hours each day to achieve my goal. It was a slow and arduous process, as I spent numerous hours doing finger exercises on the piano. Separately, outside of practice, I allocated time to watch recordings by professionals to study new techniques. As I began practicing more than before, I felt a new passion rising within me that I had previously subdued. I could physically feel the difference in my music, which only motivated me to play more. Finally, after months of learning, practicing, and perfecting, I could finally play La Campanella from start to finish.

Once I mastered La Campanella, I began learning other pieces written by other composers primarily Liszt and Chopin. While I was playing, I felt as if I was roaming through an art museum, each painting beautiful but all set in different eras, painted by different artists, and telling a completely different story. Music has transformed from a daily chore to becoming my passion. Whenever I play in front of an audience, I invite others to glance into my inner thoughts and emotions through the subjective melodies. 

Music has become more than just simple notes; it is a tool and an emotional outlet for me to build a connection with others. Ethan’s unintentional motivation pushed me to practice more and introduced me to the beauty of music, discovering my passion in the process.