NOW I KNOW....

When I was young, just tall enough to reach the keyboard,

I played boldly, convinced I knew,

I used to say: I know, I know, I know...

It was the beginning; it was spring,

And when I turned eighteen,

I said: I know, this time, I truly know!

I had studied the scores and creations,

Analyzed the voices, the harmonies, the phrasing…

I had conquered technique, unravelled counterpoint,

I had my convictions, my sound,

And I thought: This is it. This is mastery.

Then life unfolded, and the years passed.

I played more; I taught, I listened—

From the echoes of history to the silences between the notes,

To the unspoken wisdom of those before me.

And today, when I look back,

I see the scores I have explored, the music I have lived,

The students I have guided,

The moments where the sound transcended the fingers.

I see that I have walked this path,

And that I have not walked it alone.

But now, in the stillness of a quiet room,

With only a piano and time as my witnesses,

I sit down, less confident, and I reflect…

What have I learned that matters more than this?

Now I know... I know that we never really know.

Music, sound, interpretation, students and composers,

We never truly grasp the depths of what we play.

We reach, we uncover, we serve…

But to say I know is to misunderstand.

That’s all I know... But this, I know.

We think we have mastered a piece but only touch its surface…

Our certainties are like castles of sound,

That dissolves the moment we listen deeper.

We learn, after years of searching,

That the truest music is born from silence and humility.

Now I know... I know that we never really know.

Each phrase carries more than just notes,

Each composition is more than just a style,

Each student has more than just technique.

Music is never ours to claim—

It is only ours to reveal, to honour, to let breathe.

That’s all I know... But this, I know.

With thanks to J.G.