The Wedding Kid
I started playing piano and organ at the age of 3 – I had perfect pitch and could play “by ear” – it was the most natural thing in the world to me even though it seemed to freak out everyone else. I loved to ask people what their favourite song was and to see their face light up as I played it for them. Sometimes, if I didn’t know the song I would ask them to hum it for me and then play back the melody and try and guess the chords and ask them “does it go like this?”
I remember my teacher in Grade 5 at school, Mr Tarrant, would sometimes just pick up his guitar during our 15 minutes of “Silent Reading”. He would whisper “hey Paul, what’s this note?”, pluck a string and I would mumble “C sharp” and he would shake his head and smile to himself.
I started to play the organ for church on Sundays when I was 8. I loved the responsibility of it – I loved having the big key to the organ loft, loved arriving early so I could play as the congregation gathered (sometimes mum or dad would have to drive me down separately because my sisters weren’t ready). I loved being the first to dip my fingers in the holy water, loved rushing up those cold, creaky steps, the faint lingering smell of that mysterious smoky incense, the sound of the pumps and bellows when I turned on the organ, checking the board for the hymn numbers, flicking through the book to find them. I loved having my hands poised above the first chord – looking in the little mirror, waiting for the nod - he’s there - processional hymn - ready - go. I remember so clearly the day I realised that my feet could finally reach the pedals and I could add those bass-lines which had hitherto only existed in my imagination.
I guess I would have been around 10 years old when Father Devoy suggested I could start playing for some Weddings on Saturdays. He would send the couples around to our house to meet me and discuss the music – my mum would make a nice slice or some sandwiches – I guess they must have found it strange or amusing when this skinny kid emerged from his Star-Wars themed bedroom and introduced himself – but in a way I think I was more grown-up then than I am now – I took it all very seriously and felt a great deal of responsibility to make their day as special as I could. I had a job to do, I had a role to play.
I would talk them through the service and play them different options. Sometimes they would tell me that they wanted to include their favourite song when signing the register but the priest had informed them that he didn’t really want pop music played on CDs in the church. I would come up with ways to play their song which sounded a bit more classical – “Wind Beneath My Wings” was popular, or “Perhaps Love” or “The Rose” … once I even got away with playing “Groovy Kind of Love” by Phil Collins.
I remember one time, when I was in Grade 11, I was summoned to the office in the middle of Maths class: “Could Paul Hankinson report to the office please, Paul Hankinson to the office” – a glance from Miss Head, a few “oooooo”s from the boys in the back row as I stood up and shrugged my shoulders. Knowing I hadn’t done anything wrong, I walked quickly along the cracked path - tufts of grass - lines of ants - hoping my parents were ok – I arrived at the office and there stood Father Devoy. “Now Paul, a lovely young couple from Germany just knocked on my door and said they love our town and they love our church and they wondered if I could spontaneously marry them right now. I said, ‘sure but you can’t get married without music and there’s a boy just across the road who will gladly play you down the aisle’”. I had never met real live Germans before but Father Devoy was right – they really were lovely. I remember sitting with them both next to the organ, quickly deciding on the music. I liked their accents and their gentleness. I remember they were so happy and so in love AND they gave me $50 – they didn’t realise I would gladly have given them $50 for getting me out of Maths class. I wish I knew their names or where they are now. I’d love to hear from them.
I guess it all stopped when I moved to Brisbane to study classical piano and got obsessed with Beethoven and Brahms. As a music student, I still played for the occasional wedding – played all three of my sisters down the aisle - but it stopped being an every-Saturday occurrence. I had loved making the brides and grooms happy and I find it so funny and beautiful that this feeling has unexpectedly found its way back into my life through my YouTube channel. It’s that same sense of having a role to play in the community – such an important and satisfying feeling for any musician or artist.
I started making piano covers on YouTube because my nephew Eli asked me to play Ed Sheeran’s “Galway Girl” for him – to film my hands from above so he could see which notes I was playing – he’s really talented but has never learned to read sheet music.
I uploaded the video to my long dormant YouTube channel so that he could watch it whenever he wanted to. That was in April, 2017. Two weeks later he asked me to repeat the process for “Perfect”. I listened to the song and I had flashbacks to my childhood as the wedding pianist. I thought to myself, ‘wow… this is going to be THE wedding song for the next five years’ and I had this idea to mix it together with Pachelbel’s Canon and call it the “Wedding Version”.
I guess I had a feeling that day that people might like it … I felt that inner child stirring… that old “make it beautiful for the brides” feeling… but I could never have imagined that just a few months later that video would reach 1 million views and kickstart a whole new avenue of work for me – one that tied in directly with what I had loved doing so much as a child – one that I could do from home in my pajamas – one that would build an online community full of kindness and support - one that my nephew would take credit for – one that would answer the question I have on a sign above my piano: “Who Is It For?”
(hint: it’s for you)
