This performance is excellent.
Page 1 of 3
Kuhlau's Little Sonata in C Major, Op. 20 No. 1, First Movement
—
As the old saying goes: a teacher for a day, a father for life.
Wasn't Xiao Bei putting him in a tough spot?
Staring at the empty music stand, Li An could only regret bringing the exam textbook back to his office yesterday.
Careless, truly.
If only he’d left it on the piano earlier, he could have simply taken out his own book when Xiao Bei stood up.
Now look at this. The leader was sitting right behind him, this was their first close encounter, and he had come specifically to observe the class.
He couldn’t very well go back to his office, nor could he suggest having Xiao Bei put the score down so they could both read it together.
Neither option would look good. He had to leave a good impression on the new leader this lesson.
Might as well try. At worst, he could pause midway to reinforce some key points—nothing wrong with that.
Yes.
Running through the score in his mind, Li An identified three key spots in the piece, then adjusted his breathing.
He knew that from the very moment he began explaining, the tempo of this movement would be set.
With one long and one short breath, Li An finally broke the silence of the classroom.
“Looking at the first measure, if we want to achieve a broad, steady, bright, and singing quality, both hands have to work together.”
He raised his hands.
“In the beginning, the right hand plays half notes, while the left hand provides a fixed broken-chord accompaniment.”
He let his fingers fall.
A clear, bright half note flowed from his right hand.
“The left hand’s accompaniment needs solid key action, so it can provide a stable background.”
Though his left-hand tempo was not fast, each note was clearly articulated, the volume just right to complement the right hand’s half notes.
“As for the singing quality, that’s up to our right hand. See, the right hand plays one note for two beats. If we don’t shape a musical phrase, then it isn’t a phrase at all, and it loses its singing character.”
As he spoke, his right hand fingers—one, three, and five—had already completed the long, connected line of C–E–G in the first bar, the three notes seamlessly joined, creating a sense of breadth.
[Xiao Bei’s teacher-student index increased to 65]
“Here, the right hand needs to ‘send’ the notes. Think about what we discussed in the last few lessons—the lifting and dropping motion. Now, it’s a slow, three-note glide, and after these three are connected, continue to send, reach the highest point, then pull back.”
“For B, slightly raise the wrist, play softly, with a touch of pleading, then send to D.”
The bright melody, carried by Li An’s muscle memory, gradually unfolded on the keyboard.
“By the seventh measure, you see a lot of eighth notes—here the fingers must focus on transferring energy.”
As he spoke, the melody moved into the eighth measure, where three solid, deep left-hand notes instantly changed the music’s character.
“The melody now shifts to the left hand, with the right hand taking the accompaniment. Here, the right hand's volume must not overpower the left.”
Li An’s state grew ever steadier, and the teaching insights he’d accumulated over years of playing Kuhlau’s Little Sonata in C Major now flowed from his lips, orderly and unhurried.
At measure eleven, he even deliberately demonstrated a mistake—having the right hand accompaniment overshadow the left hand’s melody. The music immediately lost its balance, a stark contrast to the previous three measures.
...
Page 2 of 3
“If your hand can’t reach the octave, Xiao Bei, you can just play a single note. I suggest playing the lower one.”
...
“When we reach the secondary theme, we want to capture a feeling of dialogue.”
...
“In measure 23, there are runs of sixteenth notes—four notes per beat. Practice this section thoroughly, then use fingerings 4-3-2 to lead, and repeat, since this is a repeated section. Make a contrast here—even though the score doesn’t indicate it, mark a ‘p’ for soft playing.”
...
“Then comes the staircase: G—B—D—G!”
[Xiao Bei’s teacher-student index increased to 67]
...
“C two, E two, G two, three, four.”
...
“Keep it bright! Use the strength of the wrist.”
...
“Beautiful.”
...
“Now we return to the theme: C two, E two, G two. Inhale, connect the staccato notes, keep moving—send, keep it bright and singing, left hand pinky must be firm....”
...
At exactly five minutes and thirty-seven seconds, Li An lifted and dropped both hands, two chords—one near, one far—falling in succession.
“Dang! Dang!”
The entire first movement ended steadily under his hands.
He withdrew.
[Xiao Bei’s teacher-student index increased to 70]
Li An wiped the sweat from his forehead, walked to the window, and opened it.
Two raindrops blew in, cool against his face.
Returning to the piano, he asked, “Xiao Bei, do you like this piece?”
Xiao Bei only nodded, her worshipful gaze said it all—this was the first time she’d heard her teacher play such a long piece.
Li An smiled; it was also the first time he’d introduced a work to a student in such a complete way.
He took Xiao Bei's score and glanced at it—she’d managed to jot down about half of the explanations he’d demonstrated, with little question marks in some places.
“Come, sit. Let’s start from the beginning again, right hand alone for the first eight measures.”
Xiao Bei sat down. Li An checked the time—forty-five minutes left in class. “Today, our main task is to get familiar with the first page.”
“Begin.”
Xiao Bei stretched out her right hand, slowly lowering it. Still immersed in the atmosphere from before, she played while softly singing, imitating Li An: “C two, E two, G—”
Seeing this, Li An exhaled gently, then, after a moment, smiled and raised his arm, matching Xiao Bei’s tempo with a gentle prompt:
“That’s it, send—”
Page 3 of 3
In the classroom, it seemed Li An’s version of Kuhlau’s Little Sonata in C Major was looping once again.
Teacher and student, in unison, carried the music forward to the next stage.
And regarding the next stage, Li An decided to reconsider Xiao Bei’s curriculum.
Based on her performance in these lessons, apart from a slow finger response and weaker comprehension, the child was quite good in every other aspect.
She was earnest, had a good memory, read music quickly, and respected her teacher.
He realized he hadn’t paid enough attention before.
Usually, teachers judge a new student based on finger execution. If a child can quickly play the correct notes and rhythms as written, the teacher will give them a decent talent score at the start.
Li An hoped that by adjusting his teaching methods, he could help this child make even greater progress.
After all, that’s what being a teacher is about.
“Ah, a wrong note—a wrong note. Is this a mistake you should be making?”
“No.”
“So?”
“I should let my eyes go first.”
“Correct.”
“Mm!”
...
It’s hard to describe the teaching atmosphere, but after sitting through the whole class, Qin Yong did feel moved.
If he ever had a child, he’d want someone like Li An to be their piano teacher.
With five minutes left before class ended, Li An said a word about knocking for dismissal, then left the room.
A while later, Qin Yong moved behind Xiao Bei, glanced at measure 26 of the score on the piano, then stepped to the window. When Xiao Bei paused after finishing a section, he asked, “Xiao Bei, how long have you been learning piano?”
“Two years.” Xiao Bei looked cautiously at the stranger, a bit nervous with Li An gone.
“You play well,” Qin Yong praised, then asked, “Where did you get your current textbook?”
“My mom bought it; I’m not sure,” Xiao Bei replied.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Xiao Bei packed her things and, before leaving, didn’t forget to say, “Goodbye, Teacher.”
“Goodbye. Practice well at home, and study hard with your Teacher Li.” Qin Yong watched her go, then took out his phone.
He opened the assessment group chat, found his name in the left column of the class observation scoring Excel sheet.
His gaze moved across to Li An’s row.
He entered two numbers.
Saved.