The prompt given was: Stanford students possess an intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development.
When I decided to play Beethoven's Opus 109 Sonata, my teacher was dismayed. One of the Sacred Five (as I like to dub Beethoven's last five piano sonatas), Opus 109 was written in the last few years of Beethoven's life, full of his pain and frustration with the world. Playing it at a youth competition would almost certainly earn a "you are not simply not ready yet" from the jury. My teacher suggested that I try the delightfully youthful Opus 2 instead. But I had made up my mind. I genuinely loved Opus 109, and some inner determination in me dictated that I would play it, conventional or not.
Reluctantly, my teacher agreed. But learning the piece was completely different from I had imagined. It took time for me to realize that Opus 109 was a piece that was not so much about the fingers, but rather about the mind, heart, and soul. I would hours sitting silently in front of the keyboard, staring at the notes Beethoven left behind, and wondering what he was thinking. For the first time, it wasn't the piece developing under my hands; I was the one growing as I studied the piece. Opus 109 inspired me to view the world in a new way. It had been a risk to learn it, but I couldn't have regretted my decision less. Today, I still play Opus 109, as well as other music that I love, not limited by the fear of breaking tradition.
I'm worried that my essay doesn't correspond with the prompt enough. Please let me know what you think. Any other help/comments would be greatly appreciated
Opus 109
When I decided to play Beethoven's Opus 109 Sonata, my teacher was dismayed. One of the Sacred Five (as I like to dub Beethoven's last five piano sonatas), Opus 109 was written in the last few years of Beethoven's life, full of his pain and frustration with the world. Playing it at a youth competition would almost certainly earn a "you are not simply not ready yet" from the jury. My teacher suggested that I try the delightfully youthful Opus 2 instead. But I had made up my mind. I genuinely loved Opus 109, and some inner determination in me dictated that I would play it, conventional or not.
Reluctantly, my teacher agreed. But learning the piece was completely different from I had imagined. It took time for me to realize that Opus 109 was a piece that was not so much about the fingers, but rather about the mind, heart, and soul. I would hours sitting silently in front of the keyboard, staring at the notes Beethoven left behind, and wondering what he was thinking. For the first time, it wasn't the piece developing under my hands; I was the one growing as I studied the piece. Opus 109 inspired me to view the world in a new way. It had been a risk to learn it, but I couldn't have regretted my decision less. Today, I still play Opus 109, as well as other music that I love, not limited by the fear of breaking tradition.
I'm worried that my essay doesn't correspond with the prompt enough. Please let me know what you think. Any other help/comments would be greatly appreciated