Colour Staff

PREFACE

Colour-Staff came into being through helping students in the Yehudi Menuhin School during its first year in London. One of them was a highly-gifted young violinist who read the treble clef with ease, but who was puzzled by the bass clef.  The other was a young cellist who was perfectly at home with the bass clef, yet completely lost when trying to read the treble clef! I wanted to find something which could help both these students to discover and understand the relationship between the two clefs. However, as there didn’t appear to be anything on the market, I followed the suggestion of a friend and decided to create a device myself. I painted a baking tray in seven repeating colours to make an eleven-lined staff. Having been given some pieces of  magnetic plastic, I made little moveable symbols and painted each one using this same colour sequence and letter-named them. Through this material the violinist and cellist began to see for themselves how the treble and bass clefs belonged to one another, with Middle C floating in between forming the Great Staff. Following the success of this home-made device, I developed the material further and called it ‘Colour-Staff’. What lay in the background of Colour-Staff however, had begun many, many years before. Aged about five years old, I was staying on holiday in my grandfather’s small cottage in Scotland. One night I was dozing in bed when suddenly I heard something amazing. What was this and where was it coming from? I must find out at once! Breaking all rules, I leapt out of bed to explore. Quietly opening a door, I peeped in to find it was Grandpa playing the violin! What was astonishing was that, though I had often heard him playing before, and loved the sound he made, tonight, somehow, there seemed to be something different, something added. Suddenly, I had become aware of the “magic” which lies within the sound of music – it seemed to glow like the radiance of colour in a crystal. I was left full of wonder and yearned to learn from this wonderful experience. When we had returned to London, I begged to have lessons so that I could play our piano and read the music we had at home. I couldn’t wait to begin. I thought that all I had to do was to find out how the lovely pattern of black or white keys on the piano fitted the black or white notes on the printed page. Black or white keys and notes together surely would make the sound of music! I was eager, longing to learn – everything seemed most exciting. Sadly, it became clear very soon that things weren’t as simple as I had imagined. In itself, I found the uniform look  of black or white on the keyboard and in printed music didn’t seem able to show me how to play: I simply couldn’t see why 5