As told to Pablo A. Tariman

THE pressure to excel is the price exacted from the ?gifted,? more often by themselves than by others, and even long after they?ve already proven themselves.

It?s been years since Cecile?s Curtis schooling and her New York debut, and still the pressure remains, I remember thinking, as I heard her reminding her 20-year-old son before their joint concert at the CCP, ?You had better practice well and don?t dare make a mistake, because we will be the talk of Manila for years.?

I don?t recall ever having said anything like that to this daughter, who is now still a busy concert pianist but prouder of her role as mother to Octavio, who also plays the piano. I wonder if she has known any of the feelings I had all those years that were devoted to raising a gifted child. I realize that for her the pressure must be double because unlike me, who was only expected to provide motivation and encouragement, she must do that for her son, and perform on her own as well.

But for Cecile, hard work comes naturally. She knows the importance of discipline, and long practice hours are second nature to her. She is a perfectionist but doesn?t gloat or brag about it. To this day, she always says, ?I can learn anything from anybody. I don?t have all the answers, and as usual, I am not always contented with how I play.? She once told her teacher Rudolf Serkin that she wasn?t happy with her Saint Saens piece at the Kennedy Center Honors, where she shared the limelight with Meryl Streep and Mikhail Baryshnikov. Her mentor replied, ?When you are not contented with how you play, that means you will go far.?

Cecile was born May 11, 1961; we named her after the patron saint of music, St. Cecilia. In the months before her birth, my husband, Dr. Jesus V. Licad, used to play classical music in the house. When I was seven months pregnant with Cecile, I remember attending a soiree where Dr. Licad?s friends sang Spanish songs and a violinist played some masterpieces. Could it be possible that the baby I was carrying was affected by the music? Or is it really just a question of genes? I am a pianist myself, and she is a grandniece of the composer Francisco Buencamino, whose pieces ?Larawan? and ?Mayon Fantasy? are standard encore pieces in her concerts.

We somehow were always aware that Cecile and music were something special, but we did not fully realize the extent of her talent until much later. After all, the then very young Buencaminos also started as piano prodigies (like Willie Cruz and Aging Buencamino) and we didn?t make a big deal of that. But I did notice that Cecile had a very unusual interest in the piano at age 2. At a little over 2, she was already a keen observer when I was teaching my piano pupils. At age three and a half, we realized she could already read notes, even before she learned the alphabet. Any music teacher will tell you that it?s hard to teach solfeggio to beginners. But with Cecile, she was not just musical, she could read notes as well.

But at some point in her young life, Cecile realized that regular practice involved a lot of work and deep concentration. And that, for a normal growing child, was not much fun anymore. When she would waver, her Papa would say, ?If your piano teacher scolds you once, I?ll scold you twice.? Then I would nag her and say, ?You forced me to teach you piano, remember? Now that we?ve started this, I want you to become a better pianist than I am.?

What role did I play in Cecile?s musical life?

First of all, I chose Cecile?s first teacher, Miss Rosario Picazo, and it was the right decision, for it was she who gave Cecile the right foundation. A teacher can make or unmake a gifted child; she can nurture or ruin a talent or she can inspire or turn off a gifted child.

My husband and I organized Cecile?s life. Her routine was strictly divided into school time, practice time and piano lesson time. Of course she had play time, but only after school and practice hours.

I was with Cecile from the time she had her first formal music lessons with Miss Picazo to the time she entered Curtis School. I had many roles?mother, cook, household help, chaperone, confidante, etc. When she reached her teen years, we were more like friends than mother and daughter. We even shared the same bed until she was about 13.

Like friends, too, we had our share of misunderstandings. For one, Cecile had a stubborn streak, which merely reflected a conscious desire to be on her own. She hated to be told over and over what to do. She is not the type to harbor ill feelings, though, because once her temperamental fire burns out, she is back to her normal self as though nothing had happened.

Pressures were always part of her life, ever more so just before a performance. I remember one tense afternoon before a concert in New York. She was glued to her music scores and figuring out how she could make the best out of the pieces. Out of the blue, she asked me, ?How do you think should I approach this piece??

Since my opinion was sought, I gave it, although rather tentatively: ?Maybe you can apply a little pedal here and there??

Cecile blew her top and yelled at me, ?All you can think of are pedals, pedals. Puro yabang, puro yabang!? (Pedals are all braggadocio.)?

?Well, if you think it?s not necessary, then don?t do it,? I snapped. ?Instead of being helpful, you aggravate things,? she grumbled in turn.

Half an hour before the concert, I sent her a note: ?My dear daughter Cecile. I wish you the best of luck in this concert. But don?t worry. Even if you don?t play well, you will always be our dearest Cecile. Love, Mama.?

Why I wrote her the way I did, I cannot explain now. But at that time, I knew she was under great pressure to do her best at all times. But what if she did not do as well? That letter was just to reassure her that I would not love her less just because she didn?t get rave reviews.

A few minutes before the concert, Cecile?s manager came over and asked me, ?What did you write Cecile??

?Why?? I asked, disturbed. ?Well,? she said, ?Cecile sobbed like anything after reading your note, and she said something like, ?How can I be so bitchy to my own mother???

That evening, Cecile played with unusual intensity and with all the passion she could muster. On stage, there was no trace of the dressing room tears, only the image of an artist enraptured by her music. It was my turn to sob and shed tears.

In the middle of a standing ovation, I repeated to myself, ?My daughter Cecile, you will always be my baby, even if you don?t play as well as you did tonight.?

Did Cecile try to impose her own upbringing on her son Otavio who also plays the piano? I don?t think so. Otavio has varied talents not just in music. He has appeared in school theater productions, he can act, he can mimic anyone. Cecile actually lets her son be. But one time, I caught her scolding her son and saying something like, ?You stand there in the corner and don?t argue with me!?

I told Cecile, ?Anak, I didn?t do that to you when you were a child. Let your son explain and reason out.?

Is having a gifted child a blessing or a burden? For me, this is the greatest blessing I received from God. Of course, you cannot be lucky in other aspects of your life. But once you are given a gifted child, you have the obligation to nurture that talent in the very best way you can.

There is no perfect formula. Just remember patience, understanding, discipline, concentration, focus, a fighting spirit when things go wrong and, with it, yes?lots of humility.