In addition to the books I'd come in for, I found a piano book of the music from the movie Pride and Prejudice (the Keira Knightly version), which I bought for Louisa. She had downloaded the first two pages of Dawn and has been teaching herself to play it, so I thought she might like to have the entire piece. Even though she stopped taking piano lessons a few years ago, she enjoys occasionally sitting down and playing for fun, and I like to encourage her. I also bought a Lord of the Rings viola book for Sebastian, which he tried out last night. I bought some valve oil for Seb's trumpet and Louisa's French horn. And I bought something for myself: a book of piano music from Norah Jones' album, Come Away with Me.
I took piano lessons for nine years, from kindergarten through 8th grade, from Mrs. Rolfsrud. During that time, my dad would buy me the occasional piece of sheet music, which was always a fun break from the pieces I had to play for lessons. Music Box Dancer. Billy Joel's She's Always a Woman. The theme song from The Pink Panther. I hardly ever play now, but once in a while, I get the urge to sit down and work on a piece. It's therapeutic.
I noticed, during my shopping spree, that Schmitt had a special section just for piano contest music. Seeing those books reminded me of my greatest piano triumph. I competed in the Minnesota Music Teachers Association's annual state piano contest for several years, and in 1979 I made it to the pinnacle: the Honors Concert at Northrup Auditorium on the University of Minnesota campus in Minneapolis.
This is 11-year-old me before the concert, at my Grandma Falvey's apartment in St. Paul.
I don't remember what piece I played to get to the big concert, but I do know what I played the day of the concert: the Polonaise from Anton Diabelli's 28 Melodic Etudes (No. 14) Opus 149. I remember being on stage with the bright lights, and I remember being directed by Philip Brunelle, who now is the artistic director of VocalEssence. I don't remember being scared, but I think it probably helped that I was on stage with so many other kids, and that I had played the piece so many times I could just let my fingers take over for my brain.
What I didn't know when I played at Northrup – and didn't know until I started researching the life of my great-grandfather, G. Oliver Riggs – was that my great-grandmother, Islea Graham Riggs, took her St. Cloud piano students to MMTA contests in the 1930s. In an Oct. 18, 1936 letter to my grandmother Eleanor (who also taught piano and who at that time was dating my grandfather, Ronald Riggs), Islea wrote that she was taking three of her female students to Minneapolis later that month for the state music contest finals.
"The selections the state board gave us are rather difficult, I think, for such young students as mine. The 13-year-old girl is playing the A Minor Valse by Chopin, and Playera by Granados. The 11-year-old ones are playing The White Moth by Harriet Dare and Solfeggietto by Bach and the other one Serenade by Backer-Grondahl, and Birdling by Grieg. They all do quite well, but I am not expecting them to place as the competition is so keen – so many playing from both cities. But it will be a nice experience for them, and I hope they will have a nice day. They think it will be a great lark."
Another letter, dated Nov. 29, indicates that Islea's guess was right, and her pupils did not advance to the honors concert.
"There were 22 in each division, and only 10 could pass. These 10 are to play in a piano ensemble, 10 pianos, under Percy Grainger's direction at the Music Teachers Convention in Dec. We had a lot of fun in Minneapolis that day – it was the day of the Homecoming game, so there was a big crowd, and the girls were all so thrilled to be there."
I don't think I'd been back to Northrop Auditorium since my stage debut, at age 11, until a few years ago, when Steve and I attended a concert by – guess who? – Norah Jones. I didn't think of that when I bought her sheet music the other day; I just made that connection now. It's funny how things come together.
I should mention that I still play the Diabelli piece occasionally, with my dad. He plays the primo part and I play secondo. When we played it last, on Christmas Eve, I was pretty rusty. Maybe I'll take that book out and practice, in solidarity with the students who are preparing for their big concert in June. I bet my great-grandma would approve.
My dad, William Riggs, and 42-year-old me, playing piano on Christmas Eve in Northfield.


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