Truth Without Words
by Siberia

Note: Dedicated to Stephen Myers, my piano teacher.

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On a mundane spring day in 1995, the late afternoon sun shone through the rectangular window, but the atmosphere within the room was overcast at best.

“You really gotta work on your scales and triads,” Graham grumbled as one hand scribbled notes onto Tien’s study booklet while the other enmeshed itself into his russet hair. It was the nicest comment he could think considering how awfully she had executed them. If scales and triads were analogous to verbal language, then his student had stuttered and hesitated at every couple of words throughout her entire presentation; a highly unpleasant experience for a musically-trained ear to endure.

For the past seven years, Graham had tried very hard to get the girl interested in the piano, but nothing seemed to work. Although Tien never complained about it directly, he could tell that she was here against her will; there was no mistaking the resentful look in her umber eyes whenever one of her parents was present. As long as the bitterness remained inside of her, he knew that his efforts would be doomed to failure. Graham suspected that the two of them would be much happier if they both just sat there and did absolutely nothing for half and hour until her parents arrived to pick her up. However, a voice within his psyche said that he shouldn’t give up, that something will one day trigger her love of playing music, no matter how aggravating these lessons were becoming for him. His intuition said that Tien possessed a fair amount of potential, and he refused to watch all of it go to waste.

“It’s almost like you didn’t practice at all this past week,” the instructor observed sternly. “If the exam took place today, you would’ve failed.”

The 12-year old communicated her apathy with a quiet, “I know.” Of course she didn’t practice her scales and triads; she hated them! Nothing in the world was as useless and stupid as those scales and triads staring scornfully back at her from the printed pages. Tien’s parents, who were obsessed with Western standards of class, forced their daughter to study piano in the hopes that she would be perceived as being more “cultured” than her peers. What possible motivation could Tien have to sit at the keys and move her fingers across them dozens of times over? None, obviously!

“I guess I’m not cut out to be pianist,” she continued.

“You’re making up excuses. Hard work is the key to success. I’m not expecting you to become a professional pianist, but I know you can do a lot better if only you bothered to practice.”

The only regret Tien felt in neglecting her studies was how much it was upsetting Graham, whom she viewed as a very nice, patient and hard-working man. He was actually one of the few adults she truly respected, and she felt bad for clumsily stumbling over ground that he considered sacred. It was obvious how much he loved his craft, and it was difficult for her not to marvel at his devotion. Although she was too young to understand why, she knew that a part of her being wanted to please him, to have him smile at her piano playing instead of frowning at her mistakes. It was as if she could absorb the pain he suffered from her lack of commitment, and the more disappointed he became, the more it hurt her. Unfortunately for the both of them, Tien’s anger towards her parents was far stronger than her desire to spare her teacher’s feelings. Her vindictive nature was stubborn in that way.

After Graham was done writing, he was desperate to hear something that wouldn’t clash with his artistic sensibilities. Of the five pieces his student chose to learn from the limited selection available to those following the Royal Conservatory of Music program, only one seemed to be going well. It was The Oriental Flower by Christopher Norton, whom he guessed was probably the sole non-deceased composer within the entire Grade 6 collection. Perhaps this contemporary melody, which was published a mere five years ago, was more suited the girl’s tastes than ancient sonatas that were scrawled down by centuries before. Unlike her other songs, Tien could execute The Oriental Flower at the correct pace without any major errors, and the only important thing left to do was to add more emotional depth with crescendos, decrescendos, pedal work and the like. He wondered what made it so special to her.

“Okay, let’s move to your List C piece. It sounded pretty good the last time, so I hope you were able to incorporate some of the expression without losing any of the technical aspects. I know that for you, constantly being aware of how hard or soft you must press the keys while at the same time manipulating the pedal can get in the way at first.”

Tien shook her head. “I didn’t have any problems. Or at least, I don’t think so,” she added with a uneasy chuckle. Sometimes it was difficult for her to tell if she had practiced something properly or not, although her confidence level was higher than usual this time around.

With her slender fingers, she then proceeded to awkwardly remove the book containing scales and triads to replace it with page 27 of “Repertoire Album 6” where The Oriental Flower could be found.

Whenever Tien’s folks weren’t paying careful attention to what she was doing at the piano, she would play this piece, and only this piece, over and over again. The lines, X’s and ellipses marked by Graham’s pencil appeared to make sense for once, the tone rising and falling where it should. Every note, every shift in intensity, felt absolutely right to her.

In other words, Tien had a pretty good idea what the author was attempting to describe with his music, unlike all of the other faceless songs she had encountered during her piano training. It was as if the tune created by her hands was narrating a love poem with invisible verses. She could decipher from the title and the amorous atmosphere that this Norton fellow must have been quite enamoured with an Asian woman, in particular her subtle grace, as indicated by the lyrical rhythm of the piece, and her charming giggle, which Tien could almost hear hidden within the few sixteenth notes scattered throughout a piece full of eighths. How flattering it must be to be immortalized by such a beautiful piece of music, she thought to herself. Could I ever inspire such feelings in an artist when I’m older?

But there was more to the song than simply her understanding of the composer’s intentions. In addition, it served as a sort of mystical gateway to one of her future selves, more specifically the woman concerned with matters of the heart. Whatever essence Norton managed to capture of his beloved, it mirrored the one resting in Tien’s soul. As the dreamy ripples filled her little ears, she would be drawn into a trance where she would experience mild visions. The faintest scenes of her adulthood flashed briefly in her consciousness, the melody travelling back and forth across time to bring her tidings of what’s to come. Physically speaking, she was considered to be rather plain and dowdy by her family and classmates, but the music knew better than to focus exclusively on the here and now.

Like Norton’s muse, the melody predicted that she’ll grow up to be a natural beauty. During the summertime, Tien will adorn herself in elegant, flowery patterns, not needing any make-up, padded bras, over-exposed flesh or any other cheap gimmick to effortlessly entice a particular group of men. Her future admirers will generally be slightly older (though youthful in their hearts), good-humoured intellectuals with artistic leanings and a penchant for her innocent, yet wise demeanour. They’ll adore her smile, her laugh, her expressiveness and her wealth of trivia, which makes for extremely engaging conversations in both the realms of art and science. And as if to answer her silent question, she was also given a mental picture of a couple of her peers who will indeed be stirred to write poetry about her loveliness.

Of course, Tien never shared these visions with anyone for fear of being ridiculed; even she had to admit it was rather crazy that she could read so much within a single sheet of music! Yet these images continued to appear in her psyche every time she played the notes, and she couldn’t deny the power they held over her. She imagined this is what Christine Daaé must have felt at the Perros cemetery when the Phantom enchanted her performing The Resurrection of Lazarus on her late father’s violin.

After clearing her throat, the student readied herself into position, awaiting the command of her instructor to breathe life into The Oriental Flower. Graham rested the booklet and his pencil on the table next to his chair, not wanting anything to distract him from the presentation.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Tien’s fingers began to work their magic on the otherwise lifeless keys. Barely a few measures had passed when the man became downright stunned by what was he was listening to. Compared to the mess she habitually produced, he couldn’t believe how... well, magnificent it sounded! Among those who had selected this piece in the past, her rendition was far superior than anything he had ever heard. Whatever potential she carried for music, it was expressing itself completely to him at this precise moment. Seven years of toil and drudgery in a barren field had finally yielded the promising tip of a sapling. Considering how long he had waited for this, he felt like he was a witness to something quite grand and extraordinary. Oh my goodness, she must be a true romantic! his head exclaimed with joy. There’s no other reason why her execution would be so flawless!

When the spell ended, the girl moved her hands to her lap and lifted her foot from the pedal, nervously awaiting her teacher’s judgement. The stillness soon became intolerable, and she turned her head to the right to read his expression. To her astonishment, she spotted a proud grin on Graham’s face, his irises twinkling behind his round spectacles. Because Tien believed it to be an impossible sight, she had to blink a few times to ensure what she saw was real!

After clapping his hands, he said approvingly, “Tien, that was amazing! This is first-rate stuff! This is even good enough for the inter-provincial competition! See what you can accomplish when you practice? Aren’t you proud of what you’ve just done here?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” she replied in a somewhat timid fashion, her cheeks blushing lightly from the unexpected compliment.

“If only you invested as much effort into to your other studies... but that’s something we can discuss at a later time. I can die a happy man now that you’ve found something to love about playing music! Thank you for making your piano teacher feel like he did something right for a change! And even if you end up quitting the piano one day, I’ll still find comfort in the fact that The Oriental Flower had awakened your inner musician.”

“Well, I guess it’s too bad that nothing else in the Royal Conservatory of Music really interests me.”

“You know, it’s too bad that your parents are so rigid about following the program. What we should’ve done from the very beginning was allow you free reign over what you wanted to play. After teaching you for seven years, I think I know the true reason why you shine in this piece, and it’s quite a shame I was never able to pick it up before.”

Tien narrowed her eyes. “And... what would that reason be?”

“Don’t you see? You’re a closet romantic! Compared to my other female students, you’ve always struck me as rather serious and reserved, not terribly open to the idea of sharing your emotions. But deep down in your soul somewhere, there’s a romantic itching to be free, and I’ve just heard her come alive in all of her glory! I honestly don’t know why you try so hard to hide her from the world, but I know she must be there, otherwise The Oriental Flower could never have touched you in this way, and you wouldn’t have been able to produce this gorgeous music.”

As much as she wanted to deny it, Tien knew she couldn’t escape the truth of the words. Nope, there was simply no protesting against his remark; she had to accept this fact about herself. Clichéd gifts such as flowers and chocolates possessed no sway over her heart’s icy fortress, but profound insight, witty observations and sweet, subtle gestures of affection would prove to be a prospective suitor’s best chances to melt down its frigid walls. Who would’ve thought these willowy fingers would betray such a concealed, intimate part of her being? And to her piano instructor, no less!

Graham then suggested, “Now that you’ve completely mastered the piece, would you like to add your own personal touches? Like changing the pace a little here and there? We don’t have to limit ourselves to what’s simply on the page. In fact, the judges should be impressed that you went beyond what is necessary.”

“Oh, of course!” the student chirped, her face beaming like the afternoon sun.

Ten years would pass after that monumental day, and as the melody foresaw, Tien’s understated charm would serve as a magnet tugging at the hearts of dozens of hapless males. Despite shouldering the burden of low self-esteem for her entire youth, her adulthood kept its promise and permitted the person she kept repressed for so long to finally blossom to its full splendour. The ugly duckling has indeed shed its brown fuzz to reveal the majestic swan.

Although the young lady had abandoned the instrument for quite a long stretch at this point, she occasionally conjured The Oriental Flower at the piano, the notes so burnt into her brain that she no longer needed to glance at the book’s printed pages to guide her hands. To Tien’s relief, she still recalled how to incorporate the modified tempo even though she didn’t practice for months at a time. Her 1st place award at the inter-provincial music competition sits proudly near the metronome, a welcome reminder that she managed to outperform the more talented pianists in her age category, at least with this single piece, despite her mediocre skills.

If she ever had the chance to bump into Graham again, she knew that the first thing she would utter to him was that she still played The Oriental Flower with the same amount of passion and enthusiasm as that obstinate 12-year-old he tutored. No doubt it would bring a tear to his eye to know that he had made an significant contribution to her development as a human being, a contribution she will clearly cherish for the rest of her days.

As the spellbinding music undulated around Tien’s adult ears, it led her again to the ethereal landscape where time had no meaning, just like in the old days. But the visions it evoked were now in the form of nostalgia instead of prophecy. The very same song that once offered her a sneak preview into her future had now transformed into a doorway to her past, the fond memory of that important lesson remaining as fresh as her love for this piece.

The Oriental Flower

As her little fingers caress the piano's keys
They speak of the Oriental Flower’s beauty
Hearing adoring words as sweet as honey
Her psyche swirls within the delicate melody
Slowly unveiling her soul's passionate side
As the soft notes slip past her child's disguise
Unleashing emotions she never felt before
Revealing a secret she never knew in herself

The black-haired girl gently closes her eyes
Making the song's love become more alive
Her mind is enticed by the mystical energy
Glimpsing visions of a future that will be
She sees poems that have not yet been written
A deep love that has not yet been spoken
Desires that have not yet been fulfilled
A heartache that has not yet been healed

A blossom begins to ripen in her spirit
Of inner worlds that she will soon inherit
As the young child nears the end of the piece
She feels its loveliness fade into mystery
Possessing new wisdom about her life
The girl now knows with surprised delight
That she's truly a hopeless romantic at heart
And one day she'll be, the Oriental Flower

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Sweet, eh? All comments are welcome! :o)