Good teachers are the living wealth of the people
One photo encouraged me to write down what I keep in my memory and consciousness. It is a simple picture of my teacher who still continues with dignity to perform her social, artistic, pedagogical, moral and ethical duty with young pianists. It is at the center of this photo and is called Adriana Dizdari.
I remember her young, beautiful, well-kept, full of vitality, but also strict, cut, and cultured. She was in the class at the appointed hour, in the class tastefully arranged by herself. With pictures and posters on the walls to create an aristocratic and unique environment from other classes. In the long corridor of the Lyceum of 50 years ago was the third upper class which made me stand as I passed before it. From the lessons with him I remember realizing it right away when I had studied a little. The smile on his throat became serious as he shook my hands. When I was good it didn’t spare the praise and encouragement and it seemed to me even more beautiful than it was. I also remember the lessons we did at her house and they were all free of charge as no payment was known at the time. I felt in the air that he enjoyed respect even before colleagues. Perhaps it was one of the most authoritative in the various saxos that developed. There seems to be some interesting chemistry between the special teacher and the student, a natural connection as you feel your teacher’s culture gradually enter your veins. Not only the instrumental technical culture, but also the taste, the sensations, the attitude towards beauty. It is the process of forming that is slowly created within you and unwittingly one day feels that you are gifted with many things. It only happens when you are lucky enough to learn such figures as delicate and strong, cultured and noble. I have always thought quietly within myself that such encounters in life are rare goodness, all the more so today …
Years later I learned that he left Tirana at an art center in Ksamil, but still remained the epicenter of pianistic pedagogy and perhaps even more active than ever, more present in Tirana than ever before, even more vital.
In this photo I see her again from the height of years, a little bleached but still smiling, full of children around her, who awaken my memories. What do we think of them? Do they know what its dimension is, not only among teachers but also in the history of our pianistic pedagogy? They should know full well that it is legitimate to write on their CVs that they were Adriana Dizdar’s students.
How poor are the words to present that wonderful movie called reality!