Last week I got my first “gold star” after successfully perfecting (to my teacher’s liking) Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It wasn’t actually gold, instead it was a star that my teacher drew in my book, It wasn’t any ordinary star, either, he drew a ballerina star, with “ballerina hands”, a tutu, and a bun. Absolutely delightful.
In yesterday’s lesson, he taught me the beginnings of understanding how to conduct an orchestra. I find these little details and nuances absolutely fascinating, wanting to know every little thing about this instrument I can manage. He told me his goal is to teach me everything he knows. Bring it.
We also started working on the next song in the book, Lightly Row, which I’m trying to be diligent about actually learning how to read the music rather than just memorizing which notes come when. That can work at these beginning stages, but as I progress it will only become a disadvantage. I guess I was doing well enough on this song, making it more difficult for myself by insisting on using the A string for the E note, rather than using an open E string, but I have been struggling with the A string E note and wanted to take this opportunity to work on it. Apparently, I was getting the E note perfectly, then struggling to get the C#, which usually is opposite for people. Learning and remembering the hand shape and placement for each string and set of notes is something I’m still working on, as is setting my thumb position to have my fingers be where I need them to be, the most difficult being that E note on the A string. Staring the song with it skews the hand shape, which is another reason I wanted to work on it — figuring out all the ins and outs here at the beginning so I have a better foundation to build upon.
From there, my teacher decided to throw me a curve ball. He told me to play the open G string, open D string, then B, A, B, A, B on the A string, back to D, then G. Then he transcribed Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G for the cello to the violin and had me muddle through it. He showed me what it’s supposed to sound like when you get it down perfectly, which of course I don’t have the timing or inflection yet, but when he handed me back Beulah (my violin) I was able to at least hit each of the notes properly and from there can build to the proper inflection. It blew his mind. He commented to the fact that if I see him do it, I’m able to copy it really well. I’ve always assumed I was a visual learner, as I took to American Sign Language really well (and had circumstances allowed, would have been a deaf interpreter) even using the language to study for tests as I was better able to remember the signs and interpret them than I was to remember words on a page. Having that translate to violin certainly is interesting.
He explained that if I sing the notes to myself, do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do, that I’ll have better success in finding the note on the violin, knowing what it’s supposed to sound like. “Good singers make good violinists, and you’re a good singer.” This blew my mind. I’m definitely not the singer in the family, my sister has always had a natural talent for that. I remember being told I wasn’t a good singer, even having friends laugh at me when I would go flat and have no clue that I had. I became extremely embarrassed to even try, having no clue what I was supposed to sound like or afraid I’d go flat and not know it again. However, I was able to run a sound board by ear with no training, so there was a spark of hope that maybe I just needed to be shown or have things explained to me. I’ve been too timid to seek this out yet, though my violin instructor also teaches voice, so we’re sort of addressing it inadvertently. Having him say, so nonchalantly, “you’re a good singer” healed something in me.
I’m already still shocked, and sort of expecting that surely any day now he’s gonna take it back, being told I’m a natural at violin. I’ve watched shows and movies and seen the protagonist be naturally good at something and all these doors casually open for her and always thought that was completely unrealistic. However, now I find myself in a situation where it actually is real and it just still seems so fake to me. There’s no way that I have found something I’m actually a natural at. There’s no way.
Even so, this doesn’t mean I have an excuse not to work hard.
Of course, I’ll have less time to work on violin as much as I want with Nutcracker season starting up, but any little bit I can do is better than nothing through this season, and will fuel the fire of the love I have for this instrument. Progress is progress, no matter how small, and I’m grateful to have found this creative endeavor and am hoping I’m able to continue in it for years to come.
Another Night at the Barre 