Piano Lessons Are My Brain’s Best Workout

Sitting at my black baby grand piano, 78-year-old Bob Bonn looks from the sheet music to the keys and plays a D with his right hand. It’s supposed to be an E, so he tries again, only to hit the D once more.

“That’s my brain,” he says, lifting his fingers to tap the side of his head.

“Wrong notes are part of the deal,” I say. “Try to slow down.”

I know Bob from the literary scene in Rochester, New York, where we live. When he found out I’ve given other writers piano lessons, he asked if he could have a few. It wasn’t until he showed up for his first one that he shared something he hadn’t yet told friends: that he was in the early stages of dementia.

Bonn takes piano lessons with Flanigan to help stave off the effects of the early stages of dementia.

Matt Burkhartt

I’ve long had a reputation among family and friends for having a bad memory — I’ve been on entire vacations I can’t recall — but it has noticeably worsened over the past two years. Recently, I faked a whole conversation with someone who called out my name at the grocery store because I had no idea who he was. At 55, I find that my forgetfulness requires setting alarms for work calls and other simple tasks. So far, I’ve handled this emotionally by telling myself my brain is overwhelmed by the inordinate number of responsibilities I juggle.

In confiding to me about his recent diagnosis, Bob dredged up one of my worst fears.

But I didn’t tell him that. Instead, we talked about how numerous studies have proven that music, particularly songs that evoke nostalgia, reduces the frequency of agitated behaviors in those with Alzheimer’s and related dementias, and that extensive research shows a strong association between music and memory, fine motor skills, language and more. In fact, Bob participated in a 12-week study at the renowned Eastman School of Music, in collaboration with the University of Rochester Medical Center, on how piano training improves executive functioning and other mental skills in older adults with mild cognitive impairment.

We agreed that the science is encouraging. Then Bob divulged that the metaphorical trail he’d been walking on had morphed into “a higher, more difficult grade.” He has been misplacing his car keys more often, and this week wondered which way to turn at a familiar intersection. Struggling to connect an E on a musical score to an E on the keyboard is another level of frustration for him.

Flanigan, left, leads Pam Emigh-Murphy in a piano lesson. Emigh-Murphy is classically trained on the instrument, but she wanted to take lessons again as "brain exercises."

Matt Burkhartt

At around the same time, I got a text from Pam Emigh-Murphy, a 65-year-old writer who heard about me through a mutual friend and wanted to use piano lessons as “brain exercises.” Her last lesson was three decades ago. Would I take her on?

Like me, Pam had been classically trained. She understood the mechanics behind the music: the level wrist, the relaxed fingers, the importance of dynamics and symbols, such as the underappreciated rest (what we don’t say is as important as what we do say).

Pam would be one of my most advanced students to date. She wanted to start by learning a Frédéric Chopin nocturne I’ve played but never taught, requiring vigilance on my part at a time I was questioning my capacity for it. And that made me nervous.