Competent, Harrington said when he finished. Your Bach is improving. Though I should mention that Christina learned that same prelude when she was seven. The comparison hung in the air like poison.
Christina smirked. But Marcus noticed something else. Yes, Christina's playing was technically superior, but it was also cold. Perfect, but emotionless, like a computer program to play the notes, but not understand their meaning. He didn't say anything. He'd learned that lesson, but he filed the observation away.
Week four, disaster struck. Marcus arrived at Harrington's studio to find two men he didn't recognize sitting in the corner with cameras. His stomach dropped. Documentary crew, Harrington explained.
They're filming a project about my teaching method. You'll ignore them. But Marcus couldn't ignore them. Knowing he was being recorded made him self-conscious, and self-consciousness made him tense.
When he played his prepared piece, Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major, his fingers felt like wooden sticks. He made mistakes he'd never made in practice, fumbled passages he could normally play in his sleep. Stop, Harrington said after the second page. You're playing like a frightened rabbit.
What's wrong with you? The cameras will be at every major performance you ever give. Harrington cut him off. Do you think concert pianists only play when there are no cameras?
This is the profession, Marcus. People watching, judging, recording. If you can't handle two cameramen in a practice studio, how will you handle Carnegie Hall? I just need to You need to develop mental toughness.
Harrington stood and walked to the piano. You know what separates great performers from mediocre ones? It's not talent. Talent is common.
It's the ability to perform under pressure, to shut out distractions, to execute when everything in your brain is screaming at you that you're about to fail. That's what you lack. He gestured to the cameras. These men will be here for the next month.
Get used to them. And if you can't play under these conditions, maybe you're not cut out for this after all. The words stung worse than any technical criticism. Marcus forced himself to start again.
And this time, he made it through, though not well. The rest of the lesson was excruciating. On the subway home, Marcus pulled out his phone and found dozens of messages waiting. The documentary crews presence had leaked online, and people were already speculating about whether Marcus was succeeding or failing.