Having moved into the apartment, I for a time dropped playing the piano. At that time neighbours were closely bound to one another, since they worked and served at one plant. Well, and of course the children were friends and were not friends. Following the example of my parents, some neighbours also bought pianos for their children (the Chernigov factory of musical instruments had begun to produce them). The plant club was next to our house, and I got the chance to learn to dance. The accompanist was an elderly man. His name was Karl Konstantinovich.
Seeing that I was not indifferent to playing the piano, he offered me his private lessons. Mama gladly agreed, since she could no longer take me anywhere; my sister was to be born. Several more people from our house asked Karl Konstantinovich to work with the children, but he did not work long, refused everyone and left only me. Now I understand that I was very lucky with him! Outwardly he resembled the then popular actor and singer Georg Ots. I think Karl Konstantinovich was a descendant of “Russian Germans.” Punctual, disciplined, cultured, a unique person! I think he was nearly 70 and he came to our home twice a week.
For his lessons he took only 15 roubles a month! (for reference: a cleaner’s wage in the Soviet Union was 45 roubles a month, a technician’s 80 roubles, an engineer’s from 90 to 110 roubles, my papa’s military pension was 95 roubles and by law he could earn no more than his pension, that is 95 roubles. And if Papa earned more, they deducted it from the pension).
When my sister was born, my grandmother came from Bolshevo to help a little around the house. And when she saw Karl Konstantinovich, she began to “chant” to me: oh, what a good teacher you have! And so, when he came the next time to work, I, with my child’s directness, say: “Karl Konstantinych, I’ll tell you a secret now — my grandmother has fallen in love with you!” (and Grandmother was in the kitchen and heard “this news”) In short, they both felt awkward from what I had said. Grandmother later retold it to the parents, lamented “how could I say such a thing!”
Karl Konstantinych gave me the opportunity of independent choice of musical works, taught very calmly, did not jerk my hands, as at music school. And so I studied piano for 6 years. Then my sister had already grown, and they took her to lessons at the music school at the Conservatory. So, although the piano took up a lot of space in our little room, it played no small role in our further development. And my sister learned so well that she became a professional musician. And I resumed my musical skills many years later, living in Norway, and continue to play “by ear.”
To be continued…