Google Photos for Piano Teachers

Google Photos for Piano Teachers

Teaching piano, I use my smartphone camera in lessons every day.

  • I photograph assignment sheets at the end of each lesson.
  • I photograph any new books or sheet music I’m assigning or loaning.
  • I often take videos of students when they’re playing something especially well.
  • I take photos to document special achievements, such as completing a 30 or 40-Piece Challenge.

If I kept all of those photos and videos on my phone, the storage would fill up very quickly.

But I don’t.

While I’m teaching each day, the Google Photos app works in the background automatically to upload every photo and video I take to Google cloud storage. The uploaded photos are stored securely at Google gives users free, unlimited storage when you allow your photos and videos to be slightly compressed. (Compressed images and videos certainly wouldn’t work for a professional photography business, but for how I use images and videos as a piano teacher, it’s perfectly fine.)

Before I leave the studio each evening, I do two things:

  • I delete the day’s photos from my phone, knowing that I can now view them in the Google Photos app or with any web browser.
  • Then I head to on my computer where I tag each photo I’ve taken with the name of the appropriate student. It takes about 3 minutes, but then I have a searchable photo record for each student I teach.

By now I’ve accumulated photos and videos from several years, so when students finish their study with me, I like to assemble some sort of collection to give them. Sometimes I just share a big folder of fun images that show the student participating in a variety of piano events through their years of study. Sometimes, I’ll create a video. But always, I have a nice collection of images to share with students  when they graduate or otherwise end their years of study with me.

Here’s a short clip from a senior video I made this spring. Liam had studied with me since his elementary school years, so I just overlaid some pictures of his really young years on top of a video he made as a senior. I’ve gone through a couple of phones and computers since Liam started piano lessons, but all my photos of him were easily retrievable since they were stored at Google Photos.

Google Photos is a fantastic free service. If you haven’t used it, I encourage you to download the smartphone app and give it a try.

“Mashed Potato Clouds” by Diane Hidy

“Mashed Potato Clouds” by Diane Hidy


“My dream has

finally come true!

I get to play Mashed Potato Clouds.”

–Logan, 2nd grader


Logan had heard her older brother play Mashed Potato Clouds, and she loved it! More than a year later, I suggested that she might like to learn it, too.

“Will I be able to play it for recital?” she asked excitedly.

“That was my exact plan,” I responded.

Students love Mashed Potato Clouds! It has a catchy tune with a pop kind of vibe. It sounds harder than it is, and the repeated melodic and rhythmic patterns make it easy to learn.

Every time I have a student play it on a recital, another student asks to learn it.

Find it in Diane Hidy’s Attention Grabbers, Book 2, published by Kjos. All four of the books in this set are fantastic, but the biggest hit from them in my studio (so far) has been Mashed Potato Clouds.


“Hey, Mr. Light!” I heard a voice yelling in the distance.

I was waiting for a traffic light at a busy intersection. My car window was down. It was a gorgeous day.

The voice came from somewhere off to my left. I scanned the streetscape for several seconds before I saw him.

It was Jake! He was standing in front of a pizza joint, wearing a uniform, about to jump in his car to make a delivery.

I waved and yelled back.

Jake had been in my group piano class at University of Louisville a few years before. I don’t think I’d seen him since that semester ended. A guitarist, he was one of the large group of students who had to pass piano proficiency by the end of sophomore year. (Mine was not a class students took by choice.)

Jake was always a good sport about my relentless posture reminders. His default posture at the piano was so bad, I once took pictures of him and posted them on a class “wall of shame.”

It was always good-natured teasing though, and students understood that. I think my students typically know that I like them and enjoy working with them.

But Jake wasn’t someone I got to interact with outside of class. Unlike the students I collaborated with for juries and other performances, I really had minimal contact with him; so his boisterous greeting surprised me and brightened my day. It also reminded me that we never really know how our behavior and demeanor are impacting others. Even when our contact with students is minimal, they sense if we care about them. Surely, a big part of our job is caring.

As we often hear, students might not remember what we try to teach them, but they will remember how we made them feel.

It’s always worthwhile to be patient.
It’s always worthwhile to be kind.
It’s always worthwhile to be encouraging.

And, perhaps, a little good-natured teasing doesn’t hurt.

P.S. I’m happy to report that Jake has graduated from the world of pizza delivery to a full-time music industry job.

It Takes a Village

“I’m struggling to inspire your son to practice,” I confided in the father at our end-of-year parent conference.

I was putting a lot of time and effort into finding music the student would like, but practice was minimal and progress was limited.

“Do we plow ahead, or is it time to make a change?” I asked.

“He likes you, and he likes playing the piano,” the dad said. “Lets keep working at it.”

Tonight, nearly two years later, that student’s fantastic playing gave me goose bumps and made me a little teary-eyed. And it wasn’t even a piece I had assigned. His school choir conductor asked him to accompany Morten Lauridsen’s Sure on this Shining Night, and the glory of that gorgeous music seemed to light a fire in his soul. He’s put in the work to make the piano accompaniment stunningly beautiful.

Thank you, Mr. Cook, for inviting Dylan to play. I suspect he’ll remember this opportunity as a milestone in his life.

“Incognito” by Jason Sifford

“Incognito” by Jason Sifford

Incognito, a jazz nocturne, is a piece I’ve discovered only recently, but I loved it from the first time I played it. With its haunting G minor melody and flashy 16th note riffs, it’s just fun to play. It’s been an easy sell for several of my early advanced students, and has quickly  become a studio recital favorite.

Find it in the FJH Music Company’s In Recital for the Advancing Pianist: Original Solos, Book 2.

A Gummy Fiasco

I’m a grown man who just drove to Kroger for the sole purpose of buying . . . gummy bears.

After midnight.
Drove to Kroger.
Two blocks away.
Didn’t even walk.
(There might be hooligans!)
Grown man.
Gray hair.
Gummy bears.

I blame my friend, Chris, whose social media post from earlier in the evening had said, “I hope that when I inevitably choke to death on gummy bears, people will just say I was killed by bears, and leave it at that.”

So the craving for gummy bears was planted, and it nagged at my brain until I gave in and drove to Kroger. After midnight. On a Monday.

In my defense, I had taught 9 hours of piano lessons, and hadn’t had enough food. My healthy-eating resolve was weak.

But there was a problem at Kroger. The gummy bears were blocked by a giant stocking cart. Normally, I would just move the cart and get what I want; but this time, a Kroger employee was actively stocking shelves from the cart.

“Excuse me sir, could you move your giant cart so I can reach the gummy bears?”

Nope. Grown man. Can’t say that.

When I buy gummy bears, I do it on the sly, hiding them under the hamburger meat, or the charcoal–anything manly. Then I go through the self-checkout line and hope no one is watching when I run them over the scanner.

Determined not to have made a post-midnight trip to Kroger in vain, I pushed my cart around the store a few times, contemplating what I might say.

“Pardon me, sir, I was told to buy gummy bears. I don’t dare go home without them. Can you move your cart, please?”

Nope. Not gonna fly. Even I laughed at that one.

“Maybe he’ll soon move down the aisle a little,” I thought, circling the store a few more times.

But Mr. Candy Aisle Stocker was in no hurry. His cart was going nowhere fast.

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that man that wouldn’t prompt him to think, “Grown man. Gray hair. Gummy bears. After midnight. SMH!”

So I got in my car, empty-handed, and went home.

If I Google “Twelve-step program for gummy bear addiction,” will those skinny-jeans-wearing hipster children who work at Google post it on their Top-Ten-Stupid-Searches-of-the-Day list?

I’m not giving them the pleasure. Brats. Get off my lawn!

The day after I posted this ridiculous (but true) tale on Facebook, some pretty awesome students brought me a stash of gummy bears.

Elliott Improvises on Black Keys

Six-year-old Elliott sat down at the piano and started improvising when she arrived for her lesson yesterday. She was doing it so musically, I suggested we turn on the camera and make up a duet together.

“Use black keys,” I told her.

Later, I notated the improvisation, with a few minor edits. Find it here.

The Secret Word

The Secret Word

“Why is there an army of minions in your piano studio?”

No one has actually asked the question, but I see parents looking at all the minions (14, at last count), and I know what they’re thinking.

We were preparing for a recital, and I had put lots of effort into getting students to think about stage presence and performance procedure. I told them to show me they were remembering by giving me a fist bump and saying a secret word as they arrived at the recital.

“What’s the secret word going to be?” I asked at our performance class the day before the recital.

“Minions!” one of the boys shouted. So minions it was.

They filed into the recital hall one-by-one, all giving me fist-bumps and whispering the secret word. And their performance procedure was impeccable. Best ever.

Since then, students have been bringing me minions–stuffed minions, plastic minions, Christmas-tree-ornament minions, light-switch-cover minions. There was even a minion cake. Today, a student brought me minion Tic Tacs!

This secret word idea was something that just popped into my head on the spot during our pre-recital performance class, but I was amazed at the results it got. I encourage you to give it a try as you prepare students for their next recital.