Introduction

Unfortunately, if not seen from the proper perspective, the video and audio of the lessons may disappoint viewers. While there is much to be learned and enjoyed here, viewers must know in advance that some of these videos are not professionally recorded. The parent teachers at lessons would place their camcorders on tripods, then sit down to take notes of the lessons. This meant that close ups of hands and camera placement were at times less than ideal. One common problem was that due to camera placement the student often blocked clear visual access to Dr. Kataoka's hands. Another problem was that Dr. Kataoka did not routinely speak with a microphone, so her voice was often distant, even inaudible. Her translater, often Ken Matsuda, usually spoke off camera due to the fixed position of the camcorder on its tripod. David Jones of East Carolina University's Multi-Media Center has improved both video and audio quality during the process of transferring whatever the original formats were into Windows Media files presented here.

Yet for all the limitations in these video and audio lessons, as master Suzuki teachers know today, Drs. Suzuki and Kataoka would often focus on only a few points during a lesson. These points can easily be understood in the videos. Viewers of the videos should maximize their attention on those teaching points and not be distracted by the limitations of the recording technologies.

The intent of the Suzuki Piano Basics Foundation is to archive the lessons Dr. Kataoka gave to master teachers and students. As the archive develops, there may be videos of master teachers at Suzuki institutes added as well. Many of you know that students at week-long summer institutes would work on an already polished piece with a variety of institute teachers, would have a lesson with Dr. Kataoka during that week, and would then perform the piece at the institute's group recital, held at the week's end.

To conclude, here is Dr. Kataoka's invaluable account of her first lessons with Dr. Suzuki, so helpful here as you begin to watch these videos and put them in context. This extract has been taken from "A Unique Lesson" in Sensibility and Education, pp. 65-68., published in 1990 by the Suzuki Piano Basics Foundation.

In 1955, I left Tokyo and moved to Matsumoto. My first contact with Talent Education was when a violin teacher in Tokyo called me and asked me to accompany violin ensembles. I had started to take piano lessons at age six, and since that time I had been somewhat famous for being a good pianist for my age at school and whatever piano class I was attending. I was brought up believing that I was able to play piano quite well. When I look back on those days, I am really amazed that I could play all those masterpieces of famous composers with such terrible technique. I am sure it was only because I was young and full of energy.

I was asked to play all the accompaniments of the pieces in Books 1 - 10 of the Suzuki Violin Method all at once. There was not enough time to practice. Although I actually did not have too much trouble playing them all the way through, I was really puzzled to find out that the four repeated sixteenth notes in "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" were giving me a hard time. Everybody knows that a piece by Franz Liszt, for example, is hard to play. I wondered, "Why is this 'easy' piece so difficult?" I didn't know the answer. This was the very first question I had about my piano technique. The next one came when I discovered that it was difficult to play repeated patterns in left-hand accompaniments (such as CGEG CGEG). It was also difficult when I had to play fast. This series of questions motivated me to move from Tokyo to Matsumoto thirty years ago.

The year I moved to Matsumoto was a time when Dr. Suzuki was in Matsumoto throughout the year. He did not give any out-of-town lessons or lectures that year because he had been ill and had to stay in Matsumoto to take it easy. I was very fortunate. Day after day, I observed his violin classes. Sometimes it was a class of brilliant students who were educated by Dr. Suzuki from the beginning, and sometimes it was a class of ensembles for teachers. Early in the year, I observed the lesson of an elementary-school girl who was working on Vivaldi's "A Minor Concerto." First she played all the movements and Dr. Suzuki listened to the end. Up to this point, it was a familiar scene, just like other lessons I had experienced. When she finished playing, he said, "You practiced very well. Good job." Then he started to teach.

He started by teaching how to play the A in the first measure. He showed the right posture and how to hold the use the bow, among other things. After the student played the A, Dr. Suzuki played the same note on his violin. He also taught how the natural use of each part of the body will affect the sound. By doing all this just to play an A in one measure, he was teaching the student how to listen to the sound she was making. He was showing her how he did it himself so that she could see and hear what he was talking about. She played the A again and again, following his advice. I could hear and see her improvement. I was so impressed. He spent so much time just teaching how to play an A. He is such a kind, thorough teacher! But, at the same time, I wondered, "What will he do after this? This is such a long piece and he has spent most of his time just teaching how to play one note. How can he ever finish teaching the remaining important components of this piece?" Just as I began to think about this, I heard him say, "Okay. This is all for today." He was smiling and bowing back to the student. His lesson was a totally different kind of lesson from what I had experienced in the past. Totally different! WHY? This question motivated my research into the question of how to teach piano.

Thirty years have passed [from 1960 to 1990] since this incident. I started from scratch to explore how we should listen to the sound of a piano. As a result I have discovered that listening to sound is the beginning and that this beginning is what makes all the rest of music education possible. After all these years, I have discovered the answer to the question I asked thirty years ago. Now I am convinced. This is the only way to educate. There is only one truth in life.

The Videos

                            Please Send Corrections and New Videos to Kenneth Wilburn

                               Juri Kataoka's Illustrations are Copyrighted © 1996-2008
                                                 First Online Edition: 13 March 2008
                                                      Last Revised: 16 March 2008