Loanne Marie (Seltzer) Lehmann

Loanne Marie Lehmann

May 8, 1933-May 5, 2014

In any gathering, Loanne Lehmann was the center of attention. Her dramatic and particular sense of style and her electric wit drew everyone in. Once attracted by her vivid externals most found that she had uncanny ability to connect with other people, especially the very young, and make them feel seen and heard. This connection could last forever. In the year of her death, she was still receiving letters from old students she hadn't seen in more than 50 years.

One of her earliest and most fervent admirers met her when they were both students at the old Washington High School in Portland, where she was a new girl from Texas. Don Lehmann was just beginning his life as a pianist and Loanne, a musician herself, noticed. They married several years later during his music studies in Berkeley, California, in 1955. They both immediately went to work as piano teachers, driving to students all over the Bay area. Gas was 13 cents a gallon and Don's dad sold the young couple a 1937 Chevy for 50 dollars. Loanne learned to drive in one day, and her teaching career was off and running.

Shortly after son Nicholas was born, the Lehmanns moved to their present house on Hawthorne Blvd. in Portland which allowed them to set up home studios and stop driving to lessons. For many years, Loanne also worked as a rehearsal pianist at the Vasilieff dance studios on Sandy Blvd. "When those dancers start charging towards you", she advised her students, "you better be on the beat."

The life of a piano teacher is not the life of June Cleaver. Dinners were after the teaching day was over, often 9:00 at night, and the house was always full of students, coming and going. On weekends, Loanne loved to entertain friends and produced memorable, themed and costumed parties. But she also took pains to try to maintain some semblance of ordinary family life. She got a bicycle, acid green in color and with wine corks for handlebar stoppers, so the family could take bike rides together. They also took happy hiking picnics to Latourell Falls in the Gorge on many a sunny Sunday. And for one short period, Loanne tried valiantly to learn to play tennis, so they could all play tennis together. It was a stupendous flop, a glorious failure, but appreciated none the less.

Loanne's biggest gift was her connections with her students, of any age. She was able to zero in on each student's personality and figure out how they clicked. She was never belligerent or rough and could get the most hyperactive child to calm down and learn, without losing their respect and devotion. She taught technique, tone and tempo, all with the aim of creating a living, physical connection with music. She WAS music, and it became as compelling for her students as it was for her. And because she aimed her keen intelligence on them and treated them as sensible people, her students learned to understand themselves and their lives better, through the lens of piano playing. No one ever forgot those lessons.

This past year, when ill health interrupted her teaching and she had to suspend lessons, all her students waited anxiously for her to recover so they could go back to work. The 5-year-olds waited and the 70-year-olds waited and everyone in between. They missed her perspective on music and on their lives.

The last words on Loanne should be her own. Often imperious, even astringent, and intolerant of self-pity or slackness, she could sum up a situation in a few indelible words. Years ago, Don was facing a troubling surgery and was anxious about the outcome.  He said to Loanne,  "It's not death so much I fear, but what comes right before."

"Yes I know," she said, "it's called life."

Loanne Lehmann is survived by her husband Don, son Nicholas, daughter-in-law Lise and grandson Fletcher, many lucky friends and countless grateful students.