A night with Yo-Yo Ma

Just home from a wonderful concert with Yo-Yo Ma and the Nashville Symphony. What an incredible night.

I was almost moved to tears during his encore performance of the Prelude to Suite 1 of Bach's Cello Concertos. To see arguably the world's best-known classical musician, playing one of the world's best known classical masterpieces was something I'll never forget. That's not to minimize the Dvorak's at all. I particularly enjoyed Silent Woods.

I'm not qualified to judge his technical skills and whether other masters might be better. And yes, he is sometimes overly expressive on stage. Neither matters. He was superb and the room just resonated with his larger-than-life presence.

If you ever have the chance to see Yo-Yo Ma, do not miss it.

Shifts and more shifts

I'm happy to report that after my first lesson with my new instructor, I've really seen some improvements in my shifts. While nobody has mentioned any of the classic shifting problems like squeezing with the thumb, I had been using a "guide note" (think glissando) to decide where to stop. While the shift was executed from point A to point B, it was naturally, extremely audible. I'm excited to say that now not only is it much less audible, but sometimes, even silent.

To be fair, it wasn't any magical technique my instructor showed me, but rather just being able to watch his motion and then work diligently on repeating it.

My forward shifts are better than my backward shifts, but I'm guessing that's probably the norm for most people. I'm sure with time, both will continue to improve.

Seeing improvement in my shifts is an extremely exciting event for me. While it will take a lot of practice to get to where I can shift confidently and competently, I know that the rest of the fingerboard is now within my reach. Granted, there's still many, many years of practice to learn and become competant at the upper positions, but just knowing that the pathway to this additional range is now open to me is thrilling.

Loss of an instructor

My instructor called the other day to say she'd be unable to continue lessons since she's moving away for a least a while.

It was a sad day for me. It seems unfair that she was the one that walked through the door to find a middle-aged guy without the first bit of musical ability and a horrid ear, and she's not going to get to see my (hopefully) continued development.

I can't imagine the pain she suffered as she heard my fledging attempts. She was so gracious to pat me on the head when I'd come in so excited about how I'd nailed my intonation and she'd say, "Well...that was better...but let's see if we can get it even better." She never failed to lift me up even as I was crashing and burning.

I'm certainly grateful for the solid foundation she's given me. I've obviously still got miles (light years?) to go, but I'm definitely not only on the track, but on the right one.

On the bright side, I have a new instructor. We've only had one meeting thusfar, but I'm excited to see what a new perspective will bring to my playing.

My memory is bad...but is it bad?

Another night, another epiphany.

I was working on a simple piece I've been working on for months. While it certainly has gotten better, I haven't been satisfied with my progress given the amount of time I've put into it.

My instructor and I had decided that I needed to memorize the piece, which would then get me out of my robotic note-following playing and free me up to apply effort towards things like dynamics.

So, as I was working on playing the piece from memory, I continued in my frustration. However, my frustration was over the difficulty I was having in memorizing it. I'd constantly forget a note here, or use an incorrect bowing there. It was aggravating and made me turn my attention to trying to remember those details (hmm...was that sustain 6 beats in this spot or 5? I know it was 5 somewhere and 6 everywhere else, but is this the right place?) As a result, my playing was STILL suffering.

Finally, I got frustrated and decided that this was crazy. While I know that memorization is valuable and there will certainly be plenty of times I will either want or have to memorize something, I wondered if I was going to be using memorization as a crutch? I can't possibly take the time to memorize every last piece I ever practice or play to perfection, or even to close to perfection. In fact, might I actually slow my progress by trying to depend too much on memorization?

So, I sat back down and concentrated on my sight reading. I worked really hard to try to stay ahead of the music and to let the notes flow off the page as it were, rather than me reacting to them robotically one-by-one. And amazingly, it started clicking. Well, as much as anything can click given my limited time playing the cello.

In any case, it started clicking well enough that I've begun to wonder: should I really focus in on my sight reading even if it means less practice in memorization at this early point in my "career?"

I'm going to discuss it with my instructor at the next lesson, but I think the answer may be "yes." It certainly would be liberating to develop my sight reading to such a point where I can feel comfortable to sit down with a piece of music on my level and play it acceptably including things like bowings and dynamics without having to spend weeks or months memorizing it.

Yes, I realize it's not that simple and I will still have to practice pieces diligently for a LONG time before my sight reading ever gets good enough to "sit and play" like some master cellists seemingly can do. But, wouldn't my energy be better spent focusing on sight reading rather than an endless cycle of memorization?

A big night

I haven't had much to write about lately. Things have been pretty unremarkable. I've been practicing diligently, but frankly hadn't seen a lot of change from one practice to the next.

But the other night I experienced what I think is a step forward in my cello career. For the first time, I actually felt like a cellist. It's hard to explain the feeling, but basically things started flowing. The right arm and the left arm were working together, the intonation was above average and I was just able to play.

It was a big moment for me because I felt like I might actually be able to do this. Obviously I'm never going to a professional cellist, but I've begun to think I may not be hopeless. Lots of years of practice ahead, and I'll probably progress slower than most 7-year-olds, but such is life.

A week away

I've been such a slacker this week. I've barely picked up the cello.

Worse, there's no good reason. Often it's just been late before I've gotten the time to practice, and by then I've been tired and looking for any excuse to skip it.

But I find that cello is like exercise. I often don't want to do it, try to find ways to avoid it, but after I do, I'm SO glad I did it.

Another of my struggles is that I'm such a noob. Although I recognize I'm getting better, I still don't feel like I can play a single piece without big mistakes. Everything still feels forced. Nothing flows. In short, I feel like someone trying to learn the cello, rather than a cellist.

At some point, I guess the scales will tip and I'll feel like a cellist. Although new pieces will always involve lots of work and fits and starts, older pieces will hopefully become like a comfortable blanket - things I can play decently without much thought.

I can't wait for that day to come. I just wish I knew whether it's 6 months, 3 years, or 10 years away.

What's hard becomes easy

Ack. Has it really been this long since I posted?

Well, a few lessons back I reached a milestone in my fledging cello career: my first shift. Needless to say, I've got a long way to go to get comfortable with it.

However, if there's one thing these months of cello lessons have taught me, it's that what seems impossible today will be easy (or easier, anyhow) down the road. I remember vividly playing "Good King Wenceslas" out of my daughter's cello book and thinking, "They really want me to hold down all 4 fingers on the D-string and be able to pluck the A-string and have it ring? That's nearly impossible." Of course today I do it without a second thought.

So, despite the fact it's going to take a lot of practice to learn smooth shifting with correct intonation, I'm not despairing about it. My diligence in practice will determine how long it takes to go from "impossible" to second nature.

A breakthough of sorts

I've had what I hope is a breakthrough in my left-hand technique. Though I was getting fingering done fairly well, to this point it's felt somewhat stiff and forced.

I had been trying to replicate what I've heard about "pulling into" into the string. As I said, that was getting me by, but it never really felt good.

Recently I was watching a video by Andrei Pricope that he apparently prepares for his students:

Andrei Pricope

while I'm not qualified to judge his overall technique, the movements of his left hand struck me. It seemed, almost as if he were playing a clarinet - placing his fingers precisely down on the holes.

It's that mental image of placing my finger down on a hole that I think has improved my left-hand technique. I don't know why in particular, but it seems like my movements are more precise and more fluid.

Hey...whatever works. It will be interesting to see if my instructor feels my left hand technique has improved at my next lesson.

OMG...it's golf all over again

One of the things that I both enjoy and hate about golf is that it's a lifelong process. No matter how good you get, you can always improve. Additionally, golf is an absolute symphony of muscle movements and coordination. As one swings, one is constantly making small adjustments.

As I started my cello career, I quickly found that cello had many similarities to golf. It's clear that even after only a handful of lessons, that one can never consider themselves "finished" with the cello. Additionally, the coordination required for left-hand and right-hand is immense, and I've only scratched a tiny bit of the surface.

While the realization can be daunting, it's also refreshing. It's great to know that my new interest holds a lifetime full of possibilities and there will always be new challenges.

I'm grateful that my instructor seems to be doing a great job setting me up with a solid foundation. We spend a great deal of time on posture, hand position, lack of tension and the like. I think that's going to serve me well for the rest of my career.

How naive can one person be?

So when I started taking cello lessons, my goals were not large. I know I'm not going to be the next Ma, Isserlis, Finckle, Casals, Rostropovich, Chang or any other great cellist.

My goal is to simply be able to play some music I want, and perhaps be able to play with friends or in some simple group settings, like a community orchestra or church.

However, my naiveté was immense. I knew that it took 15 years or more to become great and a lifetime to become a master. However, I wasn't reaching for that. I knew it took children 5-10 years to become good. But they were children. Surely the majority of that time could be attributed to their lack of discipline and Xbox interference.

I figured given how dedicated and serious I would be, I could probably be playing pretty well within a year or so. After all, I was an adult who could handle complex instruction and had tackled numerous challenges in my life.

Yep, pretty darn stupid.

Naturally I now know that learning the cello is a lifelong journey no matter how modest your goals. I've gotten a grip on my adult impatience and have learned just to enjoy the process.

My adventure began

When my daughter decided to take up the cello, I began as well.

I'd never really had any music whatsoever. Well, that's not completely true, there was this one time when I was about 11-years-old when I came home from a summer camp with a burning desire to play of all things, the banjo. There was a guy at this summer camp in the North Carolina mountains who could really play. So I decided I wanted to be the next great banjo player.

My parents tried to talk me out of my newfound interest, but I was not to be denied. Off to the music store we went, and I returned home with rental banjo in hand.

Fast forward a grand total of probably about three weeks and my interest in the banjo had come to an end. The lessons were over and the banjo returned.

My family has never let me live down the banjo incident. The needling has always been in good fun and deserved, but my stupidity was always a bit embarrassing.

So a big part of my motivation is to erase this bad memory by surprising my family with the ability to play an instrument.. The cello appealed to me, and I thought it would be fun to learn alongside my daughter.

Thus, we went to the music store together and I came home with my own rental cello.

About CelloJello…

Hello cello world.

CelloJello is a blog to document my adventures of learning the cello at the ripe not-so-young age of 44 in Nashville, TN.

About three months ago, my nine-year-old daughter attended an introductory talk by the Williamson County Youth Orchestra. She came home excited about joining their beginner strings program. Next, we had to decide on an instrument. That part was fairly easy. My daughter, not being the hardiest of souls, was somewhat aghast to realize that she'd have to hold a violin or viola up on her shoulder for lengthy periods of time and have to stand a lot. When she realized with a cello she'd be able sit, the deal was sealed. The cello was the instrument for her.

To encourage her, I had the crazy thought that I might try it too. But more on that next post.

So why the CelloJello name? Just something silly we call my daughter when it's time to practice.