Teaching beyond – Music An Interview with Eleanor Wong

C: What was your first memory of music?

E: My first memory of music was that of my sister playing the piano. My mother was an ardent music lover but she hadn’t had the chance to play an instrument in her youth, so she made sure that all her children would receive some sort of musical training.

I started playing music around the age of seven, under a piano teacher who frequently offered me ice cream treats. I always joked that it was why I grew up enjoying piano lessons! Unfortunately, the teaching was lax, so I didn’t advance much in terms of technique. I remember my sister and I once got invited to perform a piano duet, but when we sat down on stage we couldn’t even start because we could not agree on which note was the middle C! The keyhole on the piano lid was missing, and the piano was of a different model than the one we were accustomed to, so we lost our bearings.

It wasn’t until I was 12 that I decided to study the piano in earnest, and my mother set out to find me a more serious piano teacher. As she was a school principal, my mother took note of the prize-winners at the piano categories of the Hong Kong Schools Music Festival, and she asked them for their teachers’ contacts. One thing led to another, and that’s how I eventually met Betty Drown (whom we affectionately call Aunty Betty).

Aunty Betty liked music and most importantly she liked teaching music. She would often sing along with my playing and she would tell me stories about the composers and their backgrounds (we did not have Internet back then, so the teacher’s words were my main source of information), and that inspired me to imagine. Studying with Aunty Betty made me realise that playing the piano is not simply about pressing the keys; the piano is also a vehicle through which we can express ourselves.

Apart from igniting my interest, Aunty Betty also had her own way to motivate me to practise. She liked to praise me whenever I played something nice, and that encouraged me to practise at home such that I could play well and please her back.

C: How did you decide on music as a career?

E: I had originally planned to study biochemistry after my secondary school graduation; in fact, I was already accepted into the Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart (now Manhattanville University). But Lady Luck intervened, and after an audition with the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music (ABRSM) I received a scholarship to study at the Royal Academy of Music (the Academy) in London. My sister was already studying there, so I decided to go to London instead.

The course structure at the Academy was quite different from its offerings today. At my time, there were two curriculums: the “normal” one, and then there’s GRSM (a graduate course linked to the University of London). The normal curriculum was a three-year course – students took instrumental lessons with the Academy’s teachers, but otherwise they were free to come and go as they wish. They weren’t required to pass any examination, though most would take LRAM or ARCM, both external exams open to members of the public (akin to the LRSMs or LTCLs of today).

The schedule was more packed for those pursuing GRSM. In addition to the extra history, aural and harmony lessons, we had to write essays and stay at the Academy on Saturdays to observe their teaching to juniors. On top of GRSM, there was even a Recital Diploma for the most ambitious. It was a demanding certificate – to be eligible for the diploma, you have to pass an exam each year, including one in the fourth year that you have to pass with distinction. It is only then that you would be allowed to play in a recital which will be judged by a panel of external examiners. I still remembered playing Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor, Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in Ab major, op. 110, and Chopin’s Ballade no. 4 in F minor for the recital. It was quite a heavy programme.

C: What did you do after your graduation from the Academy?

E: As a recipient of the Walter Macfarren Gold Medal (which was only awarded to the top performer of the Recital Diploma each year), the Academy lined up many concerts for me, which included a tour around the UK. I also debuted in Wigmore Hall during that period.

Apart from touring, I applied for the Boise Scholarship, which gave me a stipend to study in Paris under Vlado Perlemuter. Paris was expensive, so I stayed in London, teaching at schools for a living, and only flew to Paris once a week or so to meet with Perlemuter. This continued for four years until 1972, when I went to America.

C: You studied under several teachers. Is there something they taught you that you still remember to this day?

E: Each teacher taught me something different. Aunty Betty inspired me to love music, and Frederic Jackson, my teacher at the Academy, instilled in me a sense of structure, teaching me to not only focus on the minute details of a piece but also to maintain a sense of direction throughout a performance. After Frederic Jackson, I studied with Perlemuter, who opened my ears to the nuances of the pianistic touch.

Perlemuter was a student of Ravel, and he inherited from Ravel a mastery of the pianistic colour. Before I met Perlemuter, I’d always thought there was only one shade of each colour – either you could portray a sense of “green” in your playing or you could not. Perlemuter showed me that colour is a spectrum; there could be a bright green shimmering under the sunlight, or it could be an earthier green hiding under the shadows. Perlemuter’s playing was so colourful that I could almost taste the different shades of green from his playing, even though I could not reproduce it at the time.

As a teacher, Perlemuter taught by example – rather than instructing a student on what to do mechanically, he preferred to demonstrate on the piano, focusing on the artistic elements of the music and leaving it to the student to translate that understanding to their own playing.

Sometimes, this would lead to hilarious situations – I was once playing Ravel’s Valses Nobles et Sentimentales to Perlemuter, and we spent over one hour on the first line of the piece, with Perlemuter repeatedly stopping me and demonstrating how it should sound like. Alas, it was to no avail because I couldn’t achieve what he wanted of me. At the end of the hour, he finally gave up and said, “Let’s have tea!” It wasn’t until much later, when I was teaching, that I understood what he was emphasising – the balance between the fingers, which note should be stressed but not accented so noisily that it stuck out like a sore thumb.

C: What inspired you to move to America in the 70s?

E: The short answer is: I got married, so I followed my husband to America. It was January when I arrived at New York, and, being in the middle of semester, most schools were already closed to new applications. Fortunately, I was able to secure a place at the Manhattan School of Music, focusing on classical period repertoire under Artur Balsam.

I also performed a bit in New York, though it was mainly on the radio as I bore a baby shortly after my move to America. After returning to Hong Kong, I formed a piano duo with my sister, concertising in Hong Kong, Mainland China and America for more than 10 years in parallel to my teaching duties at HKAPA (Hong Kong Academy of Performing Arts). We only stopped when my sister emigrated to America in the late 90s.

C: Who took care of the children when you were performing in America?

E: My mother-in-law helped. Their whole family was in New York, and they were very supportive of me. The funny thing is, when my husband first introduced me to them as a pianist, they disapproved because they thought I was those pianists playing at a nightclub! It wasn’t until they met me in person that they realised their misconceptions, and they eventually grew to love classical music.

C: You went back to Hong Kong in the 80s and started teaching at HKAPA. What made you shift your focus from performing to teaching?

E: It was partly from practical considerations as I became the mother to three children, and that left me with little time to practise, let alone to perform. Of course, it was also fuelled by something more intrinsic – by the time I joined HKAPA as a teacher, I had discovered that I loved teaching more than performing.

Both performing and teaching gives me a sense of joy. Whenever I perform in a concert setting, I could feel the audience reacting to my playing, and it was euphoric to receive their ovation. On the other hand, there is a more profound satisfaction when you coach someone and mould them into a respectable human being. Growth comes from interpersonal interactions, and that is what I seek in teaching.

C: Do you think we have to teach to become better musicians?

E: I don’t think we have to, but it helps, for there are a lot of things that you wouldn’t be aware of until you start to teach.

When one first starts teaching, it is easy to be impatient and berate the students for playing badly, because it all sounds so obvious to the teacher. In reality, even after you point out their mistakes, it takes time for the student to understand and improve, and there is no use beating a dead horse if they can’t do it already.

Nowadays, I approach teaching like I would approach solving a puzzle – when a student can’t do what I want of them, I have to figure out what happened. Are they using the wrong muscle or the wrong force? It is satisfying when I can identify the issue and take the student to their next level.

C: Let’s say you noticed a student getting stuck. How would you help them?

E: It depends on if they are stuck emotionally or musically. Sometimes, a student would come to my lesson looking dejected, and their playing would be so horrendous that I would have no choice but to ask them what’s happening. Most of the time, it would be relationship affairs, and there I would take on the role of an empathetic parent figure, assuaging their woes and counselling them.

It’s trickier when it’s musically related. When a student gets stuck musically, I need to understand why they were stuck. Is it to do with their understanding or is it to do with their ears? Most of the time, the reason a student didn’t play the music right is because they didn’t listen with their ears.

Hearing is not listening – you have to actively listen to be able to play good music. During my student days, I was often asked to listen, but I had no idea what I should be listening to. It wasn’t until I was playing Mozart’s D minor piano concerto with an orchestra one day that I had the epiphany – we should be actively listening to the details between each note. The notes themselves are not music; it is the space between the notes that makes up music.

C: How was teaching like now compared to when you first started?

E: I think that students nowadays have become more intelligent, on account of the fact that it is easier for them to access information. However, the same technology that facilitated knowledge also brought about more distractions, and, as a result, it is easy for today’s students to become less dedicated to music.

The teacher–student relationship has also changed over time. When I first started teaching, I felt that parents were more involved in the education, and they were closer with their children. I used to be familiar with the parents of my first batch of students, but the parents of the newer generations are usually more distant. Nowadays, students are just students, but back then we felt like family.

C: Have you ever had rebellious students?

E: I hadn’t had any very rebellious students, but there were some who were underprepared for my lessons. They had not practised enough at home, resulting in little progress each time. It was not a pleasant experience, and most of them eventually dropped out or found another teacher to continue their studies.

C: What makes a good music educator?

E: It depends on your student’s level. My belief is that, for juniors, the aim of music education is not to train them to be professionals but to nurture their interest in music – this is more important than, say, attaining grade 8 at eight years old. When you fill junior students with a love for music, they would be more likely to continue of their own accord in the future.

On the other hand, for senior-level students who are aiming to be professionals, proper techniques become more important, and this is where the experience of the teacher shines. Everyone is built different, and a good teacher should tailor their teachings for each student. I once heard that teaching is like tenderising meat – some students are like tough cuts of beef, and my job is to assess each cut and prepare them correspondingly such that, by the time they are served on the table, everyone will at least find the offerings palatable.

On a more metaphysical level, what distinguishes a good music educator from the average one is that a good music educator does not only teach technique; a good music educator also guides their students to become decent human beings. Techniques may degrade over time but there are many extra-musical lessons that one could learn from the piano, and mastering them would benefit your whole life. In this regard, I am indeed fortunate to be able to say that, during my 40 years of teaching, most of my students have sincerity and integrity, and they are humble. So, in this aspect, I do think I make a good music educator.

C: As a frequent juror for various international piano competitions, what do you think of competitions?

E: Competitions are like passports in the sense that, if you don’t have a passport, you can’t get into another country. Similarly, in the classical music scene, competitions are the key to prove that you at least have the ability to progress to the next stage. It’s why I believe that competitions are necessary for the development of certain students.

Of course, one should not enter every competition they see. A suitable number of competitions allows you to learn how to cope with the stress on stage; however, if you competed too frequently, your repertoire would start to repeat, and the absence of new stimuli would be detrimental to your musicality.

C: If you could go back in time, would you go down the same route again?

E: Absolutely, but I wish I could have better equipped myself when I had the chance. I always think that, if I had had a better foundation at an earlier age, I could have achieved much more in music now.

C: Do you have any plans for retirement?

E: I am no longer a full-time teacher at the Academy, but I still love teaching and I cherish my part-time lessons there. So, I will continue to teach, as long as there is demand for my teaching.

C: Any last bit of advice for your students?

E: Use your ears and use your brain. Both are essential; do not simply hear without listening consciously.

Some students are naturals, and they play very musically at a young age. These pianists used their ears intuitively, but their brains may not comprehend what they are doing technically, which is a precarious practice because what comes naturally at a young age may not come as easily when you are old. For these students, it is imperative for them to be critical of their own playing, to understand on a conscious level why they are playing as they did, such that they would know how to reproduce the same sound after it becomes less intuitive for them.

You need to listen and to understand to be able to express yourself. Engage your ears, process with your brain and, most importantly, pour out your heart. ′

Interviewed by Vantage Music and written by Chester Leung.