I’ve often shared my story about discovering the toy piano at a puppet theatre and how I fell in love with the sound. I performed John Cage’s Suite for Toy Piano in 2001 at the Chicago Humanities Festival and then stored my toy piano under the baby grand until many years later, when I was injured with tendinitis during my doctoral years at Indiana University. I was studying with André Watts–wow! Andre. One of the greatest pianists of all time. With the injury, I was bummed to miss lessons on all the things I thought I’d want to learn from him. Instead, what he gave me at this precious time really changed the trajectory of where I am today.

At IU, we are required to perform 8 piano recitals for the doctoral degree. The break from playing ended up being a blessing in disguise as it allowed me to prioritize coursework over practicing. André and I still met and had our sessions. We talked a lot about music, the profession, music and my aspirations. As I was crawling through my recitals, I told him I was thinking about playing a toy piano recital for one of my doctoral performances. I explained that I could ask friends to write new pieces, that I’ve written some pieces under aliases (I was uncomfortable with calling myself a composer then) and because the instrument’s keys are smaller and lighter, it was naturally rehabilitative. He listened to me carefully and finally said, “Oh…so you’re serious?”
What followed were a series of lessons on the toy piano. His thoughtful ideas on testing the technical limitations of the instrument, to his fun suggestions on my compositions were eye-opening. André was the first person I shared my music compositions with. I still remember one of his theatrical ideas on frying an egg for one of my multimedia pieces, or ideations of a miniature curtain to reveal my hand playing a Tibetan bowl. What really spoke to me was his sincere curiosity towards what I was doing. I wouldn’t say he loved (or even liked) the toy piano. But he had an ability to provide unwavering support through exploration and curiosity as a mentor.
I knew my other committee members were confused by this choice, but since he was in support of my wish to have a doctoral toy piano recital, they agreed. After the performance, André was the first person on his feet clapping after my last note.
What André gave me was the courage to pursue my personal musical interests . After he passed in July 2023, I read many stories about him, mostly about the incredible talent, musician and pianist he was. (And wow, was he a force at the piano!) As a former student, I wanted to share my own experience. He was such an inspiring human being. He was kind, inquisitive, supportive, intelligent, and he listened. He was a great mentor. I wouldn’t end up where I am today without him.
