JESUP -- Bach is at 12, Mozart at 4. Today, lessons begin at half past Brahms.

Maxine Oldridge's clock features faces of famous composers instead of numbers. By 6:30 a.m., Ben Harting is coaxing fine music from his teacher's piano.

The basement wall supports other items as well, frames wrapped around inspirational phrases, decades of photos and newspaper clippings. One headline reads "Brandon native wins Bill Riley contest." The image alongside shows Harting and Oldridge, smiling on a hot summer day at the Iowa State Fair.

Oldridge roams the room as the 15-year-old sophomore plays an ambitious contemporary piece. She settles for a time near the piano, adjusting her daily planner with a pencil. She doesn't appear to be paying very close attention. She is.

"Watch the softer notes … ," Oldridge says.

And later, "Sssh."

Once through, Harting receives an assessment: Good enough for most people. The audience, which heard Harting's performance a few days earlier, probably left well-satisfied.

"I loved all your dynamics. You got them all."

But Oldridge suggests her most advanced player could extract more expression from the keyboard and pedals.

"You did this the other night, too. And like I said, there's only one person who can tell."

Final chord

Oldridge is winding down. She began teaching piano and organ as a career when she was 17 years old. She is now 70.

At one point she managed more than five dozen students each week. Advanced youngsters guided beginners on the four pianos and one organ in Oldridge's home in Jesup.

The earliest Oldridge ever started instruction was 5:45 a.m. The latest was 8:30 p.m. Because those were the times her students' schedules demanded. In the early years she charged $1.50 for a 30-minute session and was available Monday through Saturday.

"It would be nothing for me to do 10 lessons a day. I couldn't do it now."

She hasn't accepted a new pupil in 10 years. A bad fall in 2006 resulting in several broken bones forced Oldridge to consider a change. In May, following a recital, she shared her decision to retire.

The announcement surprised everyone, including Oldridge's husband, Chet, and student Lisa Weber of Gilbertville.

"It got really quiet. I started crying," Weber says. "Then everybody stood up and applauded."

Weber, a senior at Don Bosco High School, worked with Oldridge for three years.

"She's crazy. In a good way. She's off the wall. Sometimes. And she is amazing, all at once," Weber says.

Though stronger now and closer to her former self, Oldridge intends to follow through. She gave her final official lesson in December but will tutor two prospects until contests in February. And then, she will be done.

Competition never provided much incentive, however.

"Yes, it's a glory to win the state fair, the school state contest … But it's only for selected students," Oldridge says.

The ones who aspired for such accomplishments, she helped. But the goal began in the student's heart, not hers.

Oldridge takes equal satisfaction from those players who became all-around performers, who participated in school productions and who continue to lead their church congregations with music each week.

"All I wanted for my students is that they would all learn to play and to enjoy their music," she says.

Even when it's not enjoyable. Oldridge over the years coached many students through performances at funerals, including services for the young players' own grandparents. She demanded the same standards.

"You talk about being hard-case. I tell them, 'This is going to be tough.' But I look them in the eye and say, 'You will not cry.'"

New master

Her brand of tough love inspired a legion of faithful musicians, who routinely visit when in town or extend invitations to attend church services.

"That shows she left an impact," says Micala Andreassen, 21, of La Porte City.

The reasons are simple.

"She's very passionate and a lot of fun. She cares about you outside of music," Andreassen adds.

… And the piano teacher's best compliment is pure.

"When she says, 'That made me proud.'"

With the new year, Oldridge's former student becomes the master. Andreassen is accepting responsibility for Oldridge's pupils. In the immediate future, Andreassen will work out of Oldridge's home. In time, though, she intends to create her own studio closer to home.

The turnaround is complete for Andreassen, who considered giving up on lessons in junior high. She might have if not for Oldridge.

"My parents said, 'That's fine. You can quit. But you have to be the one to tell her,'" Andreassen says.

The prospect of disappointing her piano teacher proved daunting, though Andreassen also suspected another truth.

"Deep down, I knew I really liked playing."

Andreassen hopes to create that same joy in the next generation of players, as her teacher once did.

"She has a glorious way of bringing out the best in them," Andreassen says.

That a former student is ready and willing to take over is more than coincidence.

"It was God's blessing," Oldridge says.

And a rare one at that.

"Piano teachers are few and far between," she adds. "That's one reason I hung on so long."

The timing is right, however.

"In my deepest heart I love each of my kids. And they love me. You can't stop a career at any better point."

Direction

Sufficiently warmed up, Harting waits for his next challenge.

"Let's go to Beethoven and really get a good workout," Oldridge says.

Harting is preparing the master's Piano Sonata No. 1 in F minor for the upcoming contest. He begins, chasing and trying to interpret what appear to be a group of ants scurrying across white paper.

Harting approached the piece weeks ago, learned the complicated finger movements, then set the sheets aside. He returns now to apply needed polish before facing judges.

A lilting melody fills the basement, bounces along. Harting turns the page, revealing a second, larger colony in a frantic race.

"Oh, boy," he says.

The tune crashes into a wall.

Oldridge steps in. She offers a few suggestions and a nudge in another direction. Harting attempts the passage again, and this time the performance resembles the composer's ideal more closely.

"Right. There, you did it," Oldridge says.

"Now, let's go back and do it once more … "

The morning sun is still well-hidden when Katie Frush arrives. She is the second of four students Oldridge will encourage before breakfast.

The 15-year-old from Jesup is preparing Tarantella in A minor by Albert Pieczonka. Oldridge offers a reprise of her opening remarks with Harting: Set high standards and practice.

"So you've always got to remember, what if I dropped over dead?"

"I'd be really sad?" Frush says, not quite sure where Oldridge's lesson is heading.

"Well, thank you for that, dear."

But the answer the teacher is looking for is related to motivation. Frush must remember to aspire, even when Oldridge isn't looking over her shoulder.

With that, they begin.

Contact Dennis Magee at (319) 291-1451 or dennis.magee@wcfcourier.com.