I own this keyboard:
It’s a Yamaha NP-30. It’s worth about $300 brand new. I made the mistake of buying a used one almost two years ago off someone who doesn’t play piano without doing enough research myself. I was excited when I set it up in my bedroom and sat down for the first time in 4 years at a piano that was mine, that I would have constant access to. At first the light touch was just hard to get used to. Then, it was disappointing. I clearly noticed the lack of hammer action, the lack of control in dynamics. The pedal was unwieldy and kept slipping as I used it.
After a week of buyer’s remorse, I settled into the keyboard a little more and became grateful for it: it’s easy to move, takes up little space, and, even though it doesn’t feel like a real piano, I managed to settle my craving for keys under my fingers, a craving that only seemed to grow as the years in which I didn’t have a piano passed. This piano hasn’t seen a lot of serious practicing: a lot of praise and worship music, chorded popular songs, my grade 8 pieces, and a few scales for my theory class last year.
Come January, however, this keyboard is going to have to work a little harder. I’m a little nervous about how hard it’s going to have to work: can it stand up to it? Will it be sufficient? Will this whole endeavour just end up a huge waste of money?
I — the girl who barely scraped through her grade 8 piano exam with a pass — I have found a piano teacher. This means I am making a commitment, a commitment I can’t break until my last lesson. Just ask my mom how that went the last time I had piano lessons. Those stories could fill a month of blog posts…