A Life Shaped by Music, Family, and the Piano

A Childhood Rooted in Music

Dear Reader,

Today, I want to share with you a cherished piece of my soul: the piano—my first childhood love. This passion was deeply rooted in me during the first four years of my life, when I lived with my maternal grandparents. They raised me until I started kindergarten, filling my early years with warmth, creativity, and music.

The Legacy of Karoly Csobuka: Music in My Blood

My maternal grandfather, Karoly (Carol) Csobuka, was a remarkable musician. He played cello in the Ciocârlia (Lark) Folk Ensemble and double bass in the Radio Orchestra in Bucharest, Romania. His musical career took him around the world.

Music ran deep in our family. His sister, Elvira, was the music director for the Cununa (Garland) Ensemble in Someș, Bistrita-Năsăud, and played the accordion. Her husband choreographed traditional dances. They came from a Hungarian family in Beclean, near Bistrita.

In his later years, my grandfather repaired stringed instruments—a labor of love that kept him close to his roots. Among his treasured possessions was a Lauberger & Gloss piano, originally bought for his son, Carol, who studied for only a year. My mother also studied violin for four years but eventually let it go. Grandpa’s last hope for passing on the family’s musical torch was me.

Imagination, Play, and the First Notes

My early childhood was filled with sound and creativity. Grandpa often recorded me singing, telling stories, and reciting poems—before I even entered kindergarten.

With my grandmother, Floarea (Florica), I created entire soap opera reenactments and used her jewelry as characters in elaborate storylines. I was always singing (even though I couldn’t sing well), dancing, and pretending.

But it was my grandfather’s workshop that held a special wonder. I’d explore his tools and instruments, often ending up with glue-covered fingers. I’d pretend I was fixing violins and cellos, absorbed in the magic of creation.

The Call of the Piano

The Lauberger & Gloss piano called to me like an old friend. I’d sit down, press the keys wildly, improvising music I didn’t understand—but which made my heart leap.

Sensing my connection, Grandpa began to teach me. Though I had no musical knowledge, he taught me traditional Romanian pieces like Polka and Spring Song, both heavily reliant on black keys. I learned quickly.

Continuing the Journey in Canada

After moving to Canada, my parents supported my love for the piano. At age 8, I began private lessons with Mrs. Svetlana, a gifted Russian teacher. After three years, we moved, and I continued my studies with Deirdre Cooksley, an empathetic Irish teacher.

With her guidance, I worked through the Royal Conservatory of Music repertoire, completing both practical and theory exams up to Grade 7.

Loss, Doubt, and Rediscovery

Despite my musical growth, I felt uncertain about my future. My mother—a brilliant geologist—pushed me toward a scientific career. My father, an artist, offered little encouragement for artistic pursuits.

When my grandfather passed away from lung cancer at age 12, it was more than a loss—it was a rupture in my identity. He had been my greatest mentor. With his death, I began to lose direction in life.

My grandmother remained my biggest fan. She would sit beside me for hours while I played, or listen to me sing on the phone. She passed away when I was 20. Their absence left a void.

Studies Abroad and a Changing Relationship with Music

In Holland, where I studied sociology, I continued piano, though without exams or formal structure—just recitals with peers and parents.

Returning to Romania in 2020, the pandemic halted my studies. For a while, I didn’t have a piano at all. Eventually, I acquired an electric one and resumed playing.

I also had the privilege of playing on the piano of Claudiu Simionescu, Romania’s finest piano tuner, whose generosity helped me stay connected to music during difficult times.

Becoming a Teacher, Honoring My Roots

This connection reignited a desire to teach piano professionally. I began giving lessons to children, drawing on my own experiences and pedagogical methods, including the Maria Cernovodeanu Method.

Last year, I had three young students, the most devoted being a talented 7-year-old. I dedicated two days a week to him, tailoring each lesson to his creativity and spontaneity. My focus was not just technique, but soul—encouraging students to live and breathe music.

A Vision for the Future: A School in My Grandfather’s Name

My dream is to found a music school in honor of my grandfather, Carol Csobuka—a man whose heart beat for music and who wished only to pass that love on.

I hope to blend music education with emotional expression, helping children not only learn but feel their way through music. To be seen, to be heard, to heal—these are all possible through the piano.

The Piano: A Portal to the Soul

The piano is more than an instrument. It’s a portal to a world within—a way to transcend everyday life and reach for something sacred.

The sensation of dancing with your fingers across the keys is indescribable. It’s something you must feel to understand.

So I encourage every child, every dreamer, every music lover: take up the piano. Especially classical music. Give yourself the gift of transformation, of connection, of expression—of getting closer to the soul, and therefore, to God.

Thank you for reading.

Warmly,
Diana Vlad