Category Archives: Cello

*Squint*

I think I may actually be getting a handle on this new bow hold thing. No pun intended, but if you like it, it’s yours. The proper bow hold works quite well with the drawing-from-the-elbow thing. Who’d’ve thought? Let’s see if we can actually demonstrate it at tomorrow’s lesson.

These more-on-again-than-off-again remarkably bad headaches are going to be the first thing I talk to my doctor about at my appointment tomorrow morning. Because, seriously? No fun. If they were all in the same area I’d be extremely concerned, but they migrate all over the damn place. Today it’s the sinus areas in the forehead and inner eye/nose area. I’m going to go torpedo it with Tylenol and lie down for a while.

House was in fact on last night, although it was a repeat. It was a repeat of one I hadn’t seen, so all was well. And The Tudors was also on, although we started flipping to ABC and Jon Stewart during the commercial breaks to watch the pretty blue states pop up on the US electoral map. Saw McCain’s very graceful concession speech, but couldn’t stay awake long enough to watch Obama’s victory address, which was by all accounts pretty impressive. Reading it for myself this morning confirmed it.

Yeah, it’s lie-down time. The monitor’s doing nothing good for the headache. And although the lovely, lovely sun outside is, glorious, it’s not helping the headache either.

Note To The PTB:

Yesterday was made of fail. I want it wiped from my mind and from the record in general, thanks. The only good points were scoring the cello case and my lesson. Oh, and the boy opening a thank-you gift from the Nightdemons family for the use of his baby swing and absolutely loving it. (Thank you!)

Seriously, I know that for a variety of reasons I must be stressed, but I didn’t need to combined total of two and a half hours in traffic. Especially when it made me late for both things I needed to be at on time. Especially not on top of the driving out into an area I’d never been, and through traffic there too earlier in the day. I cried in frustration so much yesterday at various times that I have the crying-hangover thing happening this morning.

Thanks go out to Pdaughter for keeping the boy an hour past her regular ‘closing time,’ for the hug, and the glass of cold water, and the rolls of Rockets; to HRH, who ordered Chinese food; to the boy himself for gently patting away my tears with a tissue and for his patience; and to Nightdemons for providing that little bit of gift joy when we finally got home last night.

I hate, hate, hate that after doing next to nothing all spring and summer, construction companies rip roads up just before winter, and more than they should at once in that final rush to get a Band-aid on the roads before the snow falls. I hate that there is no way to get wherever I need to go without encountering construction-based traffic on every alternate route I can think of, traffic made worse by people trying to avoid yet other construction. I would so be doing the public transportation thing if it wouldn’t take three times as long as a car trip and take three buses. Even with the traffic.

I am determined that today will be nothing but relaxed. And there is the boy’s first official Halloween excursion tonight to look forward to. Yesterday he was practising: “I knock on the door, and they open the door, and I say ‘trick or treat!’ and they give me… good luck.” Good luck? Whatever. I’m not going to correct him. The first time someone gives him candy his head is going to explode. Am I am so looking forward to seeing it.

Ups And Downs

I’ve dropped the boy off, gone to the bank (as usual, misjudging the amount I needed to withdraw so I have to go back again), done groceries, picked up ribbon, picked up dark transfer paper for HRH’s t-shirt, had brunch, and have just returned from a drive to Ahuntsic. That was certainly an adventure. Why GoogleMaps didn’t just tell me to go up the 15 to Henri-Bourassa, the street I needed to be on, I do not know. Instead I went all over the place in crazy circles and turns to get to L’Acadie. (Turns out there’s an exit for L’Acadie on the 15 too. Good grief.) Also, the Met is one of my least favourite highways to travel.

Anyway, in Ahuntsic I viewed and purchased a lovely light hard cello case. It is brown! With a grey interior! And it has backpack straps and good handles and a huge pocket for sheet music! I’m thrilled. It’s only about eight pounds, and since other hard cases boast about being light at 12 or 13 lbs, I’m feeling pretty smug. Don’t know the maker; there’s no identifying tag. The one drawback is that it doesn’t fit in the trunk. But it does fit across the back seat if I raise the armrests on the boy’s booster seat, so huzzah!

Yes, I’m pretty set case-wise forever now. Unless something happens to this hard case like happened to my first one, namely something punching a hole in the bottom while it was being shipped by train to Toronto.

I received what could very well be in the top ten worst pieces of news to receive this morning while dropping the boy off at the caregiver’s: Emru’s not doing well at all. I didn’t know this because I hadn’t been on-line since yesterday afternoon, and the news hit me like a physical blow. I had to surreptitiously reach out to brace myself against the door because everything started to go wobbly. I held it together for about half an hour, then found myself dissolving into tears in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. About two weeks ago it was the eighteenth anniversary of the unexpected death of one of my best friends, so this isn’t a great time of year for me to begin with. And like that friend, Emru’s classified as one of the best among us, and while I wouldn’t wish leukaemia on anyone it seems beyond unfair that it should take threaten to take someone as all-round good a person as Emru is. I cannot begin to imagine how his family must feel.

So. On top of all the racing around and emotional stuff going on today, I’m having what I used to call a flopsy day, which I now understand is a bad fibro day: muscles lacking strength to handle fine motor stuff and even some of the mid-range motor stuff. I can’t speak French to save my life today; my tongue and my lips won’t form the proper shapes required. I can’t hold a pencil or write properly, either. I’m mildly concerned about my lesson, but I’ll let my teacher know the situation. Looking back I see that this began yesterday, which partially explains the awful, awful showing I made of a stupidly easy passage in a Brahms Hungarian dance last night (when, naturally, the celli were playing alone to work the passage). On the plus side, my bow hold was more like the new one and less like the old one, and evidently I was bowing in some sort of proper form because the large muscles on the right side of my back were sore when I got home (the soreness was not the good part, the good part was that to get them sore I had been using them, which I was supposed to be doing).

Food now, then packing for the lesson, then resting a bit, then to the lesson I go. I’m worried about getting from the lesson, which ends at five in Pointe-Claire, to the caregiver’s, which is in Montreal West. Traffic is going to be awful. If this doesn’t work I’ll need to find another time slot, and finding this one was hard enough what with having the car and no small person to care for only once a week.

Right. Let’s get on that, then.

Gah! Done!

It took way, way, way too long to finish up today. I started working at 7:40 AM and spent most of the morning on the iBook in the living room. Once I moved in here to handle polishing the review things fell apart. I don’t like this not-able-to-work-in-my-office trend. It’s bad. I suspect if I’d stayed in the living room I’d have focused better.

Anyway, it’s four, and I’m exhausted so I’m not even going to contemplate working on Orchestrated. I need to fall over with a book. Nixie has been at me to be elsewhere too, placing herself like a little black statue on my desk between my keyboard tray and the monitor, purring at me; every once in a while she’s reached out a tiny black paw with the claws ever so slightly extended, patting my hands or my sweater sleeves, coaxing me to stroke her.

Mailboy joy today included two of the Scrabble tile pendants I bought last week (super fast shipping!), which are even lovelier in person (I will buy brown velvet ribbon on which to string them when I am racing all over creation tomorrow), and the new issue of Strings. Let’s hope this one is better than the last one. I will read that, and finish Justine Larbalestier’s How to Ditch Your Fairy.

Orchestra tonight. And I have no idea what to do for dinner.

Seeking Silver Linings

Okay. Have somewhat recovered from the Great Cello Disappointment of ’08, and am ready to move on.

It was the size of the number that was throwing me. Divided by two it was easier to wrap my mind around, but still beyond what we’d originally thought and definitely beyond my budget. And I can’t ask my cousin to pay that much either; he’s got a spouse and a child just a few months younger than Liam, plus a mortgage.

So I think we’ll just put it back in a closet until such time as we can afford it. It was in a closet for three years; another few won’t make a difference. When I am Wealthy from Selling Many Books and Reaping Wild Royalties I’ll think about it again. Or if we win the lottery. They’re equally possible at this point.

In the meantime there are other things to save up for, like a down payment for a house. And again, it’s not like I have no instrument at all; I’m not in a situation where I absolutely have to find one as soon as possible. And if size becomes an increasingly sensitive issue for my technique, the Eastman 7/8 is muchly affordable. I suspect my luthier will keep ordering them in until I find one that I am quite comfortable with, and we can then finesse it until it’s perfect. My teacher has already recommended that I use a smaller instrument for improved handling and intonation — before she was my teacher, of course, but last lesson she did say that my regular hand position was necessarily exaggerated because the cello was so large and was probably one of the reasons my intonation is wibbly. This means I get to go back to idly trying 7/8s while I sock money away. Not a bad deal at all. (One thing this experience has given me is a better perspective on the idea of buying something equivalent in quality to what I have. A lateral move that helps improve my handling of the instrument is fine, especially if it saves money like buying the Eastman would. One of the things that I was stumbling over with the Eastman celli was their affordablility; I had a bigger budget, and it’s not like I had to spend the extra money, but if it was there maybe I could have found something better. Now that we’re looking at saving money, things are different. Funny how a single experience can change your point of view just by giving it context.)

In other cello-related news, last night I did indeed buy that soft case I found listed on Kijiji. It was a case of (no pun intended) buying this one for $45, or taking my current case into a tailor shop to have them set a protective flap of something soft to lie under the zipper to protect what’s beneath it (there’s an actual term for that but I can’t remember it), in this instance the cello (because remember, zipper scratching cello = bad, bad, bad) which would probably cost around forty dollars anyhow. It isn’t exactly the model I used this summer with the trial 7/8 it’s the next model down: more basic, less luxurious. This soft case still has three times the padding of my original gig bag and has a carrying handle parallel to the length of the case so I can carry it beside me, as opposed to the perpendicular handles the had me carrying the original gig bag upright with the neck of the cello leaning against my shoulder instead. It has backpack straps too, although I think I’ll put my original straps on the new case because they’re wider and have the rubber grip pads on them so they won’t slip. I’m very happy with it. My cello fits very snugly in it, so the case doesn’t slide around it like the original gig bag does, which means I have better control over the cello as I carry it. The one drawback I’ve found is that the pocket for sheet music is sized for 8 x 10 inch folders, whereas my music folder is 11 x 14. It also lacks a second small pocket on the back of the neck which is where I put my leather endpin strap in my original case, which isn’t a huge deal. It’s a fully acceptable sacrifice for the padding and protection! It keeps its shape when it’s empty. That’s how much padding it has.

I am also trying to coordinate with the seller of the hard case to take a look at it. It’s the same hard case our substitute principal at the Canada Day concert had, one that I don’t see listed for sale often. The hard case was going to be a necessity for the Mystery Cello, but it’s obviously not as crucial any more. Still, it’s a steal of a deal, and worth checking out, as I’ll need a new hard case at some point. Fortunately she’s open to the idea of meeting me on her lunch hour on Thursday; I’ll be needing the car as she’s off in Ahuntsic. I have to bring my cello, you see, to make sure it fits, and the idea of going home via public transport with two cases is frightful. Also, it would take most of my day and I have work to do.

Speaking of work, off I go to download another manuscript evaluation. And in other news, tonight is our first parent-teacher interview with the boy’s educators. I’m going to forget that if I don’t set an alarm to tell me when to stop working and leave in time to meet HRH at work via public transport.

Numb

I had a wonderful all-day co-coven retreat day. Great rituals, excellent workshops and discussions, awesome food, terrific company!

Then I came home and checked my e-mail — not only am I negotiating to buy someone’s semi-soft case but I also have a lead on a hard case! — and discovered that the luthier had finally e-mailed me a quote for the repair of the mystery cello.

It will cost far beyond what I was originally quoted. Even half of it is far more than I can afford, more than I have put aside. Even if I could somehow magically conjure a high-paying job for the next month or so, I couldn’t make up the missing amount.

It looks like this isn’t going to happen after all.

I’m numb.

Life Is Good

Today is a beautiful, sunny, crisp fall day, and I had my first private cello lesson in ten years.

We addressed lots of things, which didn’t feel overwhelming at the time but as I’m processing it I’m thinking that wow, yes, it was a lot. Ringing tones, intonation and tonalization, bow grip, leading with the elbow (which is completely at odds with how I was originally taught, which was to lead from the wrist, but I can see how leading with the elbow opens the body up and can produce a more beautiful and precise sound, and she says she was first taught the wrist way as well so at least I’m in good company), exercises for the bow grip and how it’s supposed to pivot around the thumb as the bow moves from frog to tip and back, shifting exercises from first to second position… yes, it’s a lot. But these things all came up as we worked through a Schumann chorale piece, playing slow, long notes to really hear what was happening. I spent a lot of the lesson with my eyes closed or staring off at nothing while I tried to listen to the sound I was making and feel the way my hands and arms had begin repositioned so that I could do it again on my own. I felt muscles in my right arm that I didn’t know were used while bowing. I just hope I can remember how it feels.

She asked about what books and exercises I had, what I’d played before, and what I was interested in playing. I didn’t think at first to list the things I wanted to work on, but I didn’t need to because most of them came up in the course of the lesson! Ultimately what I’m looking for is how to better create a beautiful sound, something large and rich and, well, beautiful. So we’re going to go back to some of my first pieces and work on those, focusing on intonation and lovely sound, and start looking at the Rick Mooney books I bought this summer to help shifting and position work.

I am so happy to be doing something about this. And it’s affordable, and enjoyable, and good for me.

I realized at the end of the lesson that I’d spent an awful lot of the last fourteen years trying not to make a big sound, thanks to the scarring experience of having seniors banging on my floors and ceilings when I tried to practise at the very beginning. The Resident Fan Club will be happy to know that from now on I am not allowed to use a practise mute, nor pull the power I’m trying to channel through the bow. My teacher’s main room is tiled with lovely earth-toned ceramic tile and has a grand piano in it, so the sound echoes beautifully and it’s really easy to hear sympathetic strings vibrating when you play a ringing tone.

In other cello-related news, I have a lead on a semi-soft cello case that is exactly the one I loved so much that came with the Eastman 7/8 I tried this summer! The person selling it on Kijiji is being slow about returning my e-mails though, and I don’t want to lose this the way I’ve lost the last six tries to buy a secondhand iBook. I’m now waiting to hear when she can meet me so I can see/buy it. And last night’s orchestra rehearsal was very good too; we’re sounding a lot more precise and there are actual dynamics happening. We spend the first ten minutes doing exercises with a scale related to a piece we’re working on, using different bow techniques and strokes and so forth. The guest conductor is tailoring these exercises to something we’ll encounter in the music we’re working on that night. Very clever; keeps it all fresh in the mind. And as for the music, the Wagner’s off the programme and a Vivaldi concerto grosso is on.

Of course the postperson came while I was gone, so I missed a package. But there were cheques for work done waiting for me when I got home! I also did some banking, stopped by the library to pick up a reserve and found two other new acquisitions that I wanted to read as well, I put gas in the car, and did a small grocery pickup. My cello lessons are right by Fairview, and as I pulled away from my teacher’s house I thought, Is there anything I need at Fairview? Nah, and kept going… only to realize on the highway halfway home that yes, I had indeed needed to pick up something very specific at Fairview, and that I was an idiot because I even had it written on a list of things to do… that was safely inside my pocket where I couldn’t see it. Argh. Looks like I’m going to need an agenda again, something more portable than my lovely but big Daytimer binder I used to use when I was working outside the home. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a trip to the office supply shop on the way to collect the boy, to see what they have.

In the meantime, I am brining chicken. I am tempted to get some Brie and mushrooms so I can make those delicious chicken pastry things again, but HRH is leaving early tonight so I don’t think we’ll have time for that. The chicken will be just as lovely on its own.