26 | October• 2018
THE AMAZING SCIENCE OF INSTANT SAVANTS
D
erek Amato stood above the shallow end of
the swimming pool and called for his buddy
in the Jacuzzi to toss him the football. hen he
launched himself throughthe air head-irst, arms
outstretched. he tips of Amato’s ingers brushed
the pigskin – and he splashed through the water just before his
head slammed into the pool’s concrete loor. He pushed to the
surface, clapping his hands to his head, convinced that the water
streaming down his cheeks was blood gushing from his ears.
across melodic intervals and arpeg-
gios,landingonthehighnotes,and
then starting low again and building
back up. His left hand followed close
behind, laying down bass, pick-
ing out harmony. Amato sped up,
slowed down, let pensive tones hang
intheairandresolvedthemintorich
chords as if he had been playing for
years.WhenAmatoinallylookedup,
Sturm’seyeswereilledwithtears.
Amatoplayedforsixhours,leaving
Sturm’shouseearlythenextmorn-
ingwithanunshakablefeelingof
wonder.Hehadfooledaroundwith
instrumentsinhighschool,even
learned a decent rhythm guitar. But
nothing like this. Though he knew
he hadn’t suddenly transformed into
US jazz pianist and composer The-
lonious Monk – he wasn’tthatgood
- Amato had accessed a well of un-
tapped creativity and ability he had
never before touched; suddenly there
was music rising up spontaneously
from within him, coming out his in-
gertips. How was this possible? PHOTO: PREVIOUS SPREAD, CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: COURTESY JASON PADGE
TT. REBA MCCONNELL. THE GOOD LINE
Attheedgeofthepool,Amatocol-
lapsed into the arms of his friends
BillPetersonandRickSturm.It
was2006,andthe39-year-oldsales
trainer was visiting his hometown
in Colorado. Amato’s mother rushed
himtoemergency,wheredoctorsdi-
agnosed him with severe concussion.
Itwouldbeweeksbeforethefull
impactofAmato’sheadtraumabe-
came apparent: 35 per cent hearing
lossinoneear,headaches,memory
loss.Butthemostdramaticconse-
quence appeared just ive days after
hisaccident.Amatoawoke,feeling
hazy after near-continuous sleep,
andheadedovertoSturm’shouse.As
the two pals chatted, Amato spotted
an electric keyboard.
Withoutthinking,hesatinfront
ofit.Hehadneverplayedthepiano
–he’dneverhadtheslightestincli-
nationto.Nowhisingersseemedto
ind the keys by instinct and, to his
astonishment, ripple across them.
Hisrighthandstartedlow,climbing
in lyrical chains of triads, skipping
