I’ve been playing piano since I was 7 years old. My early lessons weren’t classical-oriented, though reading music was definitely part of my musical diet. But alongside the reading, I became chord-obsessed. I figured out early on that knowing you
r chords was where it’s at. Whether you’re playing a standard like Herman Hupfeld’s “As Time Goes By” or working through a Beethoven piece like “Für Elise,” chords are a huge part of the equation. That said, I sometimes wonder how many thousands of pianists have mastered “Für Elise” without ever really understanding the simple chord progression that makes up its first eight measures. To read is not necessarily to understand — not unless you make it your business to really get it.
Throughout grammar school, junior high, and high school, I became friends with a lot of fellow pianists. But I noticed something: most of them had put all their focus into reading music, without ever digging into what that music was actually made of. That’s not their fault, and it’s not really the teacher’s fault either — you can’t teach what you don’t know.
Most of my classmates were deep into classical music. I was over here playing tunes like Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields’ “I’m in the Mood for Love” — and I never played it the same way twice. That’s still true today. Once you understand harmony and how it actually works, you can shape it, bend it, make it yours.
By around age 12, I’d pretty much mastered the basic triads and 7th chords, their inversions, and how to use them. I figured I knew everything there was to know about chords — until I started really listening to recordings, and until I hooked up with a jazz teacher in junior high.
The Moment Everything Changed
I was actually there for a saxophone lesson. My teacher was comping behind me on electric piano while I improvised, and I heard him play something that stopped me in my tracks. It sounded incredible, and I had no idea what it was. So I asked him what he’d just played.
“Voicings,” he said.
I’d never even heard the word. That was the exact moment the can of worms opened — and I mean that in the best possible way. From that point on, I was completely intrigued by voicings.
A voicing is simply how you arrange the notes of a chord — same notes, different order, spacing, or register — to change its color and sound.
Why Voicings Change Everything
If you’re someone who enjoys playing the classic standards and you’ve been getting by on basic chord shapes — like playing a Cmaj7 as just C-E-G-B — and you feel like something’s missing, there’s a reason you’re reading this right now.
Once you learn about voicings, your playing will never be the same again.
Picture this: you’re at home, entertaining some company in your living room. A friend turns to you and says, “Play ‘Misty’ for me!” So you walk over to the bench. You know you’re about to play “Misty” — but you don’t know exactly how it’s going to come out. And you don’t need to. Because you’re confident it’s going to be good.
Friend, when you get to that place, you’re on another level. And it’s absolutely possible.
Learning It Like a Language
Here’s the thing about voicings, and about music in general: you’re learning a language. If I decided to learn French tomorrow, I’d know I have to start from the beginning — learn a word, then a phrase, then build from there. I’d appreciate every single step along the way. Music works exactly the same way.
Think about it: nobody expects a toddler to speak in full sentences on day one. We celebrate the first word. Then the first phrase. Nobody rushes a two-year-old and tells them they should already be fluent. So why do we do that to ourselves at the piano?
Every voicing you learn is a new word. Every progression you internalize is a new phrase. And one day — without even noticing the exact moment it happens — you’ll realize you’re “speaking.” Fluently. Confidently. In your own voice. That’s not luck. That’s just what happens when you give yourself the same patience you’d give a child learning to talk.
So as you work through this — be nurturing toward yourself.
Where to Go From Here
If you want to stick with me a while, I’ll get you on your way. There are a number of paths depending on where you’re at:
- Private sessions via Zoom — if you want direct, personalized guidance.
- ProProach — a program I built back in 2009. Yes, the videos are older, but the content is timeless (and if I come across as a little too enthusiastic in a few of them, well… that’s just how excited I was to share this stuff). It’s a one-of-a-kind journey through 25 lessons that will have you looking at chords in a way you probably never have before.
- A free lesson series — if you’re leaning more mainstream and want to stick with your basic chords while making some genuinely impressive improvisations with them, I’ve put together a series of 30+ videos you can start right now, at no cost.
Now, when I say “improvisation,” I don’t mean random notes or just noodling around and hoping something sounds good. Improvisation is composing in real time — using the chords in front of you as a map, not a cage. Once you know a chord, you know a whole set of notes that belong to it, and improvisation is simply learning how to move through those notes in a way that tells a musical story. It’s the difference between reciting a sentence someone else wrote and actually having a conversation. The chords give you the vocabulary. Improvisation is you deciding, in the moment, what to say with it.
However you choose to start, just start. Learn a word. Then a phrase. Be patient with yourself the way you’d be patient with anyone just beginning to speak a new language.
You’ll get there.
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