Category Archives: Cello

Recital Countdown

In the space of thirteen hours I have had two cello lessons, one private on Friday night and one group dress rehearsal this morning at nine. The world is very clear, bright, and cold today, but there’s not much wind and so it’s lovely. The snow removal crews came along and took away the piles of snow in the street, and driving was actually a pleasure this morning as compared to the hell it has been for the past two days. (Way, way too much time spent in cars in traffic Thursday and Friday. Noting makes me crazier than leaving twice the amount of time it usually takes to get somewhere to account for weather and traffic, and still arriving late.)

Anywhat. Happy thoughts. Cello!

I lugged the 7/8 to my lesson last night along with my own cello, and my teacher played them for me so I could hear them. There’s no contest, no comparison. My full size sounds so much better: It’s clearer, it rings, there’s precision and just plain beautiful sound. The 7/8 was stuffy and dull. This just isn’t the one. I was somewhat worried about this. It’s going to take a lot to find a 7/8 that has the kind of sound my current instrument does. Anyway, it’s not pressing; it can go back to the luthier and I can forget about it until they get another one.

(Also noted when my teacher switched between the 7/8 and my current cello: My cello is HUGE! Yes, yes, I knew this, but I’m usually sitting behind it and I’m used to it. Seeing it in someone’ else’s hands was an eye-opener.)

So yes, last night’s lesson was great. I’m really happy with how my sound is developing after only two months of lessons. I can hear my intonation has improved, and the improvement in sound production that comes from better bow handling and control, too. There’s a lot of confidence being developed as well, which doesn’t hurt. I came home feeling terrific, which was very welcome after the day I’d had. (An hour on a bus to cover what usually takes fifteen minutes. Yeah. And then late to pick up the boy, late to make dinner, late out the door to the lesson thanks to the original lateitude plus traffic. It was very, very bad. Especially after the previous day’s trip to the doctor for the boy’s checkup, which took three times as long as it should have to get there and even longer to get home again.)

This morning the light was incredible, what with the sky being clear and so much snow off which for the sun to reflect. And although I didn’t sleep very deeply or steadily I woke up in a good mood thanks to the lesson, and looking forward to the morning group lesson. I love the group lessons to begin with, but I’m really enjoying the program we’re doing for tomorrow’s concert. It’s fun to play with the others, and they’re a terrific set of people. Some are older than I am, some are around my age, and others are in their teens. We have the two darling little girls, too, who are so serious when they play; they concentrate so hard and yet they stay relaxed. I adore watching them. My teacher played her piece at our insistence, too (if we had to play our solos and duets, then she had to as well!) and we loved it. It’s Fauré’s “Elegie”, and believe it or not I’ve never been in the room when an accomplished cellist has played something passionate like that. It was incredibly moving.

Afterwards we had our coffee and nibbly things and the kids played Christmas carols on the piano for fun, and it was just so lovely. Having a small group with a defined coach is so much easier than a small group trying to self-direct. And we all support one another and know exactly what everyone’s going through or trying to work past.

Something I really want to work on in the new year is advancing my musical interpretation and expression. It feels odd to have been playing the cello for fifteen years, yet be so behind on, well, sounding good (in a different way from being technically correct). Even when I tell myself that I haven’t had a lesson in ten years, my brain seems to think that because I’ve been playing in the meantime I should sound a heck of a lot better than I do. Today the tiniest girl, who is sitting in front of me for the concert, kept turning her head and watching me with wide eyes when I played the “Adeste Fideles” trio, which was nice. Being looked up to soothes both the logical and illogical parts of my brain.

I am looking forward to the recital. I’m still marvelling at the fact. I’m slightly concerned about the boy, who has been off the past couple of days and who will be attending the concert instead of napping, but que sera sera. And it will all be over too quickly.

Halfway There

The day, I mean, not some sort of wonderful goal. Sorry.

I’m about a quarter of the way done this assignment. Ravelry completely sucked me in this morning and suddenly it was two hours later. I remembered that I needed to start the pizza dough before I left and that it would no longer be a case of tossing everything in the machine and letting it knead it for me, so I’ve just done that. Now I have to change and suit up and do battle with the lovely world. And by that I mean the piles of snow, the lousy drivers who are panicking because they’ve all forgotten how to drive in winter (how is this, I ask you? we have snow eight out of twelve months a year!), the masses of cranky people on public transport, the late buses, being too hot in the buses and subway cars because of heavy winter gear and indoor temps turned up to warm for the drivers and workers who wander around in short sleeves, and that awful trudge across the never-ending parking lots to get to HRH’s office.

Then it’s warmth and cellos and collecting the boy from the local grandparents and I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on picking up a cappuccino along the way. Then pizza-making and -eating, then I get to suit up again and do battle on the roads on my way to a cello lesson tonight (which takes place directly behind the West Island’s biggest and busiest mall, and it happens to be the second-last Friday evening before Christmas, gah).

Also, I knew in my head but kind of forgot that I have a recital this Sunday. My lack of angst bemuses me.

A Day Of Squee

My Ravelry invitation just arrived! Only four days after they said it would!

This, of course, is excellent news, but also poorly timed, because I have work to do. I wanted to get it done today, too. Oh well, it’s due next Wednesday; if I don’t finish it today I can at least get the rough draft done and do the polish on Monday, and still get it in ahead of deadline. Muah-hah.

This is also the day when I get to go take a look at the new 7/8 cello that’s arrived chez my luthier. And I get a bonus extra hour of work before I do, because HRH wants me to meet him at his office after work in order for him to drive me over there instead of me doing the public transit thing to his parking lot and absconding with the car to get there myself. Apparently even more people have forgotten how to drive because oh noes, more snow has felled!!1! So I cheerfully accept both the extra hour of work and the chauffeur.

Knitting Report

I cannot control the vagaries of my blog template messing with the appearance of the comment box (aptly dubbed ‘Schroedinger’s comment box’ by the lovely and gifted Asherah!) or the placement of said comment box if it does show up, but I can control my knitting!

So yes, I have what is shaping up to be a lovely loosely knit scarf, and roughly a third of my skein left. I suspect I will be making a run to Ariadne to pick up another skein because I want this scarf to go ’round my neck twice. Although I’ll knit to the end of this one and then decide. If it will do as-is (i.e. crosses over in the front even if only barely to cover my neck), then it will do. I can always knit another one after Christmas and graft them in the middle if I want to.

I also have two more projects lined up, both requests! Bodhifox needs a hat, and HRH needs a scarf, both of which require me to purl. But after mastering yarn overs while test-running the faggot lace pattern I suspect purling will now be so much easier, as I’ve got the bring-the-yarn-to-the-front thing down pat now.

The boy went down for his nap half an hour ago. I should pull out the laptop and try to get a page or so of Orchestrated done. I’m just so tired, though. Being even a little sick does that to me (thanks, fibro). And then there is Terry’s arrangement of Carol of the Bells for four cellos that Guanaco sent me this morning (thanks, guys!) that I’m itching to mess with.

Winter: Present!

Yesterday after doing a bunch of HTML for the pro site (yay me), I spent much argh-filled time whacking at php and css code about which I know, well, exactly nothing (argh, why does WordPress hate me so?). Then I played the cello very loudly for about an hour, polishing up the recital stuff for this coming Sunday. I toyed with the idea of suiting up in my down-filled winter coat and going out to vote (because here in Canada our punishment for being less than stoic about sub-Arctic temperatures is being forced to vote in YET ANOTHER ELECTION — did I mention that my municipal riding has a by-election I must vote in next Sunday as well?) but decided to wait for HRH and the boy to come home so we could all do it together. I played more cello instead. I’m really happy with how my technique has firmed up over the past two months with my teacher: my sound is so much better.

Going out with the boys was kind of fun, because we looked at all the Christmas lights that are up in the neighbourhood as we walked to the polling station. And also because the boy carried my voter card and handed it importantly to everyone who needed to look at it, telling them with confidence, “I’m here to vote.” He went in with HRH, and as HRH and I swapped places I could hear the ripple of “He’s so cute!” comments coming from the tables of scrutineers. Apparently he helped HRH hold the pencil to mark the ballot, and put the actual ballot in the box. (Which isn’t entirely legal, but evidently the cute factor won out over hard-hearted scrutineers who might have insisted on By The Book electoral activity. Everyone seemed to approve of the Start Them Young attitude we have about it.) (Oh, the election results? Our province elected a Liberal government for a third term, this time as a majority. The PQ has surged back into the position of official opposition, the leader spouting all sorts of rabid separatist rhetoric in the post-results speech that wasn’t really heard during the campaign. Thanks for stirring up local anti-Canada sentiment again with your idiocy at the federal level, Stephen Harper. You idiot, you’ve thrown our province back into the late seventies.)

Today, however, the boy is home with a cold. He impressed his teachers to no end yesterday by asking to have his nose blown when necessary, and then actually blowing his nose when a tissue was applied to it. “We have five year olds who can’t do that,” his teacher said in astonishment. I’m hoping he’s over the really bad part so he can go to school tomorrow, otherwise I suspect he’ll be home until Friday. (And as if on cue, there is a call of, “Mama, can you blow my nose please?” from the living room.) With the number of colds making the rounds of schools and just about everywhere else, I shouldn’t be surprised. Most people I know are sick, too. This is the part of winter that isn’t so much fun.

Last night I also cast on my second armwarmer and am two-thirds of the way done. Amazing how quickly it goes when you’re curled up in front of the election coverage. I might even be able to start my scarf today, if I feel up to trying the lace pattern that I twisted so badly on my test yarn.

Right. Off to return to the boy, who is watching Richard Scarry cartoons on TV while I check out what’s going on in the world. I intend to finish that armwarmer before lunch. I need them: my office is on an outside corner and is poorly insulated, so I get all sorts of cold radiating in from the corner in which my computer is set up. Yesterday I wore woollen tights under my jeans and a shirt under my heavy woollen sweater. Also, they’ll help my hands warm up faster when I play the cello.

“You must never go down to the end of the town, if you don’t go down with me.”

I skipped into the living room to tell HRH that the luthier had a new 7/8 for me to try.

“When would you go?” he asked.

“I’m thinking this Friday afternoon,” I said. “Next week’s lesson is Friday night and I won’t be racing off anywhere once it’s done, so I can ask my teacher what she thinks of it and we’ll have the time to discuss it. If I go then, I can meet you at work afterwards and we can both head over to your parents’ place to pick up the boy.”

“Mama,” said the boy, suddenly standing in front of me. He raised a finger and shook it at me, looking very serious. “You should never, never, never, ever go shopping… without… a boy.”

We looked at him, mouths open. He nodded again, certain of himself. “Yes. You should never go shopping without a boy.”

HRH and I melted from the cuteness, and we finally broke out of the stasis to laugh and laugh. I grabbed the boy and hugged him hard. Then I went and hunted up “Disobedience” by A.A. Milne to read to him for the first time.

Cello Squee!

Guess where I’m going next Friday afternoon? Yes indeed, to the luthier in order to try out a new 7/8 cello!

It’s nice to be excited about new celloness again instead of mopey about how the whole Mystery Cello thing turned out. But that’s still not off the list entirely, it’s just delayed for a few years. (A few meaning something like a decade or so. Maybe I’ll look forward to it as a fiftieth birthday present to myself.)

My cello fund has been nibbled at by bill- and gas- and grocery-mice, but I can put a down payment of three-quarters on this cello if it’s the right one (and if they let me instead of buying it outright), and chances are very likely that by the end of the year I’ll have the remaining money necessary to pay it off in entirety. If not by then, certainly by the end of January. Then I can turn to selling my current cello and recoup hopefully at least half of the cost of the new one, if not more.

I’m not looking at buying a cello for the sake of buying a cello. I’m waiting for the right one. I’ve turned down two, after all (and had one bought out from under me, but let’s not go there). It just feels good to be doing something about it again.

And maybe this time I’ll remember to buy rosin while I’m there, damn it.