For the parents who go with them
Every competition season brings the same questions from the side of the hall: why wasn't the result what we hoped for? Why no placing? Plenty of things affect the outcome. Some of them happen on stage β but far more were settled the moment you entered. This page walks through every stage, from deciding to enter to walking back off the stage.
Half of it is decided before anyone practises
One of the most common reasons things go badly is deciding to enter on a whim. Preparation needs two months at an absolute minimum; two and a half to four months is more usual. Competitions differ in difficulty, and your teacher almost certainly has a plan for the year already. A rushed decision usually means a rushed choice of piece, not enough preparation, and a performance that shows it.
The second thing is attitude. Once you've decided to enter, the parent, the child and the teacher are all in it together β steady practice and not skipping lessons are the baseline. Missed lessons derail the schedule the teacher built; not enough practice shows up as shaky control and imprecision; and thin preparation makes panic on stage far more likely, which costs the performance again.
Widely believed, rarely effective
A very common way to pick. A piece that shows off real ability does help β but it doesn't suit everyone. Playing last year's prize-winning repertoire doesn't buy you last year's result. If it happens to be a bad fit, it will expose the weaknesses instead, and the score goes down, not up.
Longer preparation isn't automatically better. Peak too early and the piece sits there going stale, getting worse the longer it waits; stretch it too far (a whole year on one piece) and the child is thoroughly sick of it. The real measure isn't a number of months β it's this particular child's learning cycle. Some are ready in eight weeks and peak in the ninth; others need around twelve. Borrowing someone else's timetable is the easiest way to miss the right moment.
Many people assume that a bigger, harder piece automatically scores higher. But the key to choosing has never been size β it's whether this piece lets this child's strengths show. A piece beyond their control, dragged through at a slower tempo, has already lost what made it impressive, and it looks laboured on stage. (There is one legitimate exception: a teacher deliberately choosing a piece to work on a weakness β but that's a conscious training decision, not a bid for a placing.)
Some parents, meaning well, quietly seek a second opinion without telling the regular teacher. But music is subjective: every teacher has their own logic about phrasing and about what each note is doing. Hand one piece to three teachers and you may get three directions. A child who can't yet synthesise them ends up playing the first section per teacher A and the second per teacher B β and the shape of the whole piece falls apart. A waste.
So is a second opinion never useful? Sometimes it genuinely is β everyone has blind spots, and other ears keep your thinking from narrowing. What matters is whether this student is ready to absorb input from several sources. Seeking extra help before that point usually doesn't add anything; it just scrambles the plan. The better arrangement is to have your own teacher present and listening: a capable teacher knows how to take what's valuable, translate it for the student, and keep the child out of a crossfire of conflicting instructions.
A competition is a phase; learning is the long line. When I schedule a competition piece, I hold to three principles.
Every child takes a different length of time to bring a piece to maturity. Some have it in eight weeks and peak in the ninth; others need around twelve. Work out this student's cycle first, then count backwards to decide when the competition piece starts. Get the sum right and they stand on the peak on the day. Get it wrong and they're either not ready or already past it.
Entering a competition shouldn't blow up the whole curriculum. I keep the regular progression moving as usual, prepare the competition piece in parallel, and only concentrate the firepower on fine polishing in the final month. That way one competition doesn't cost the child three or four months of the growth they should have had.
For some students it works to bring a piece to a certain level, put it away, then take it out closer to the date to revisit and repolish. This avoids the staleness of grinding the same piece continuously, and gives the child fresh ears for it exactly when they need them most.
However suitable a piece is, it's no use if it breaks the regulations. Piano competitions here in Taiwan mostly allow around three and a half minutes of playing time; only some of the larger competitions allow more. Check the time limit and repertoire rules in the prospectus first, then come back to whether the piece suits this child.
I hold a summer concert and a winter concert for my students every June and December. When I choose the concert repertoire, I also weigh up whether each piece could be taken to a competition. That way students usually have something ready and already performed, so a suitable competition doesn't mean starting from zero β and there's no scramble from a last-minute decision.
Try the whole outfit on days beforehand
For a competition or a performance, formal dress is basic courtesy. The principle is simple: tidy, clean, and age-appropriate β not dressed for a day out, and not dressed as somebody far older than they are. Also, have them practise once in the complete outfit and shoes several days beforehand. If the dress is too big or too small there's still time to change it, and they can get used to bowing and playing in it. For anything with pedalling this is essential: practise at home wearing the shoes, because bare feet and shoes feel completely different on the pedal β and you'll find out in advance whether the shoes rub.
Check them off one by one before you leave
The more nervous everyone is, the easier it is to forget the most basic thing. Open the list and confirm each item before you go.
Why the handkerchief? Everyone shares the piano. If the previous competitor had sweaty hands,
the next one can sit down to a slippery keyboard. Wiping the keys before you play is practical, and it's good manners.
Why the earplugs? If your child doesn't want other people's playing in their ears while waiting, earplugs let them hold on to their own piece β
particularly useful for children who are easily thrown.
Why hand warmers and a jacket? Competition halls usually run the air conditioning hard and are far colder than you'd expect.
Cold fingers stiffen, and all that preparation gets discounted.
From leaving the house to walking off stage
When the whole family is nervous, the most basic things are the ones that get missed. A list is always more reliable than memory on the day.
After registering, confirm the category, the running order and which hall β and find the toilets while you're at it. The order often changes, so keep listening to the announcements.
Rub the hands, warm the fingers with a hand warmer, and walk through the opening bars mentally. For a competition or an exam, try not to listen to the other players β some children are especially easily influenced.
Head up, walk on, bow to the audience and the judges. Don't sit down and start immediately β set the bench height and distance first, wipe the keys once with the handkerchief, then sit, breathe, find the hand position, and begin.
Keep the attention on the phrase happening now rather than on the hard passage coming up. Let go a little at the end of each section. If something goes wrong, pause gracefully, turn the stop into a rest or a breath between phrases, and carry on β don't announce the mistake with your face.
Don't snatch the hands away after the last note; let the music settle. Then stand, bow, and walk off steadily. Those few steps off the stage are part of the performance too.
Don't ask about the score, and don't ask whether they made mistakes. Give the first sentence to the effort itself: you looked wonderful up there, these last few months have been hard work. The review can come later, with the teacher.
Dividing the jobs matters more than you'd think
One stays inside the hall paying full attention to the announcements; the other stays with the child outside, getting them ready. Split the jobs and you won't miss one side while covering the other.
The air conditioning in competition venues is usually fierce, and sitting still makes it worse. Hand warmers and a warm jacket are not optional. Fingers are your child's tools; don't let them freeze.
Wiping the keys before playing, so they don't inherit the last competitor's sweat β and drying your child's own nervous hands.
On the day, stop mentioning the competition and stop reminding them about details in the playing. Everything that could be practised has been. Every extra sentence now just adds another layer of anxiety. Talk about something else, or say nothing β both beat coaching.
A child who catches you gesturing or frowning will only panic more. The best thing you can do is sit still and watch them, so they know someone is there. Your nerves are contagious.
The question I hear most at the side of the hall
"They got through the whole thing smoothly, no stopping, no wrong notes β so why wasn't the score better?"
Because the judges aren't only listening for completeness. Interpretation, control and variety of tone, and musicality are all part of what's being marked.
If a performance is a flat recitation of the correct notes, with no shaping or detail in it, the score follows accordingly. This is also exactly why the small-driver-large-car problem is so costly β all the energy goes into managing the notes, leaving nothing over for making music.
Same stage, different frame of mind
Preparing for a competition is a long and demanding road. Placings get announced and scores get handed out, but what actually stays with a child β the stamina to commit to one thing for months, the nerve to face a stage, the experience of handing over the version of themselves they prepared β doesn't disappear with the results sheet.
And precisely because the process is the real reward, how effectively they practise becomes the most important part of the whole thing. Talk to your teacher often, and trust the preparation period. A child who has been through a competition will come out of it with something.
Prepare with everything you have, then enjoy the moment on stage.
It's all about the attitude.
Once you know what to watch for, there's still "what if something goes wrong" to practise β
a memory slip, shaking hands, an interruption. All of it can be rehearsed at home first.