Perhaps it's been a longer day than I had realized, but I was catching up a little bit on my piano reading and had to re-read this section multiple times before I finally figured it out! 😃
I was a Suzuki kid growing up. For the first three years of lessons, I learned to play exclusively by ear. Even once I learned to read music, listening to the Suzuki recordings was the main way I learned my music. And every time I would perform in a solo recital, I played from memory. This was never a big deal for me — it's part of the Suzuki culture and playing a solo piece with music in a concert would've been like performing in my pajamas. It just wasn't done.
I never really had memory slips in performance growing up, but I did have one extremely unusual experience that has always stuck with me. I was playing a simple sonata movement in a solo recital. Halfway through, I noticed for the first time that the piano was playing the melody I had just played. Why I had never noticed this before is beyond me, but I was probably about 12 at the time, so I'll chalk it up to being a typical kid.
Despite the fact that I was on stage, performing in a solo recital, I was curious how much of the melody the piano got to play, so my entire attention was focused on listening to the piano, even though I was still playing. Unfortunately, once the piano melody finished, I realized I had no clue where I was in the piece.
But somehow, I was still playing, from memory. Amazingly, instead of stopping or getting anxious, I just listened to myself for a while. Eventually I figured out where I was and my brain rejoined my body. But how could my body just continue to play "without me" and not make mistakes?
Spoiler #1: No, it's not a Steinway Spirio.
Spoiler #2: Source of quote.