Second Lesson (Cello AND Life)

I have just realized that nobody is reading this blog. Well, the few people I have invited to read it have, but I am not changing lives by blogging about my new experiences. And YES, I had thought perhaps I would. Very narcissistic of me to be sure, but a motivating factor to blog nonetheless. I also realized that there is someone far more well known than me (I?) who has written a book about his taking up the cello at the age of forty. FORTY? He's light years ahead of me AND he already has a literary following. John Holt. You may have heard of him.

Anyway, I will persevere. My last lesson, so similar to the first, consisted of the proper positioning of the cello, holding the bow properly and fingering on the A string. I was very impressed that my teacher, Robin, had to set a timer so the lesson did not run over as she is playing in the orchestra of the Nutcracker, here in Portland, Maine. She also demonstrated to me how holding the bow is dictated by many factors by playing a part of the Bach Cello Suite that inspired me to pursue the cello in the first place. The suite brought tears to my eyes.

When I got home, HOWEVER, I had not been prepared for the sound of my own practicing. I had been told most of my life that I had "perfect pitch". I never knew what that meant except for I knew whenever I was either a little sharp or flat on a note when I played the viola, it was extremely painful.

Now as an adult, I play the cello and even though I AM playing in tune, I don't sound too good. Let me qualify that. When I was an adult and decided I could finally afford to take private lessons for the viola (and was in a relationship with a man I wanted to impress with my pursuit of learning), I would pull out my viola and the cat (who owned me at the time) Hobie, would take one look at the instrument and find the farthest corner in the tiny apartment I rented and I swear to God, if she had hands, would have put them over her little cat ears. I tried not to take it personally. I mean, what does a cat know? But she was right. A viola is squeakier and dare I say, if played by an amateur, more annoying than a cello (yet not as bad as a violin played by a beginner).

But now that I have put my self esteem aside, paid for my cello lessons and tried to justify the charge on my credit card for the cello rental, I'm wondering, REALLY? I'm 54 years old for God's sake. I mean, I know I will probably not play professionally, but when will I be able to tolerate the sound of my own practicing? But I know I still want to do this. I'll probably keep it a secret except for the few friends that I have. And if I never make it to Carnegie Hall by practicing, practicing, practicing! At least I know that I gave it a shot.

So much to learn, so little time

Wow. I had my first cello lesson last Friday. An hour later, I hadn't played a note. Well, okay, maybe one or two. AND I am not allowed to draw the bow the full length. I have to stop midway. To you experienced cellists, you understand. But I am an immediate gratification type person and I can't wait to sound like Yo Yo Ma.

I had thought my limited experience as a child playing the viola in the San Francisco public school orchestra (in the 1960's, no less) would have prepared me somewhat for playing the cello. I scheduled my first lesson and arranged to rent a cello. When I went to pick up my beautiful cello, I was surprised to learn that the cases now have wheels on them for easier traveling! I grabbed the top handle of the case and as I pulled it toward me the entire case slid out from my grip and landed on the floor with a very loud and scary THUD. Aaaaaarrrghhh. The nice man behind the counter opened the case to survey the damage and sure enough, the finger board had come off. I had to wait another day to take my baby home.


The next day, I brought the cello home and pulled it out to admire it. It's really just a big 'ol viola that you don't have to hold up in that awkward position I never got right. Did I mention I NEVER had a private lesson on the viola? What I learned, I gleaned from the overworked and seriously underpaid public school orchestra teacher (who also had to teach every other instrument in the orchestra in the 50 minute class period). Now that I think about it, it's pretty amazing that I learned anything at all.
But NOW, I am an adult and I can afford (barely) private lessons. And I own a viola, but that was the instrument my mother chose for me. Her reasoning was that the violin and cello were such popular instruments that just by choosing the viola, I was pretty much guaranteed a spot in any orchestra. She thought my brother should learn the oboe for the same reason. Job security. Except, we all know, musicians make diddly squat.
I WANTED to play the cello. And so, my parents, who swore they would never repeat the mistakes of THEIR parents (my father was a wanna be musician who had serious artistic talent so was instead steered away from music lessons which went, instead, to his brother), unknowingly did.
So, here I am. Fifty-four years old and I thought,what am I waiting for? The only thing that stopped me from even trying the cello was an old tape that ran in my brain about being a "dilettante", but that's a blog for another day.