This morning we had an awesome, awesome brunch chez Adam and Karine. The term ‘groaning table’ was invented solely for this morning’s repast. We got there, the boys all ran upstairs and played on their own, we were given excellent coffee and had the blissful experience of having adult conversation while the three boys played elsewhere. Absolutely lovely. I love that the boy is at an age where he can be trusted to play elsewhere with others and not require constant checking-in. We knew things had gone well when the boy broke down when it was time to go, and said at random tearful intervals all the way home, “I want to go back to Samuel and Matthieu’s house now.”

But this post is mostly about last night’s cello lesson.

Holy cello lesson of technical adjustments, Batman! “It may not feel like you’re making progress,” my teacher said reassuringly, “but when all this stuff is done you’ll just fly.” And I know I am making progress, because as I clean up one thing another becomes apparent (either caused by the adjustment or revealed hiding behind it) that needs to be addressed. It’s like following a trail of Smarties to a really big prize of some kind.

Speaking of really big prizes: This 7/8 looks like it very well could be The One. It’s the best one I’ve tried out of all seven so far. It’s a bit richer and more intimate than the one I’ve got. Mine is clearer and has better projection (how could it not, it’s freaking humongous, of course the bigger soundbox projects more!), which, if I was playing solo in halls, would be better. But realistically I’m not going to be doing that, am I. The more velvety 7/8 is fine for chamber and orchestral section music. And overall, if it’s in this good a shape now, after a year or so of playing it will have opened up even more. The only problems my teacher confirmed were that (a) the C sting lacks a proper balance with the rest of the strings, (b) the C string lacks quick response, and (c) if the projection could be improved just a wee bit that would be nice, too. (So nice to have my initial assessment of the instrument supported. Go me!) A bit of adjustment plus a different C string would probably do it; she sent me home with a couple of different strings from her hoard to try. She’s going to talk to the luthier about it this week when she goes in to pick up her bow that’s been repaired. The only problem I’ve found otherwise (and just now, yikes) is a too-far-down cut made in the table where the neck is set in; I’m worried it might carry on down the front as a crack. We’ll see what they say.

I played it for my entire lesson. Never even touched my own. This has happened all week in practise, too.

I also had something confirmed for me. My teacher was playing a passage on first the 7/8 then on my 4/4, and I liked both the sounds but in a different way. And she said, “Honestly? You’d have to spend a lot of money to find a 7/8 equivalent in sound production to your cello.” Now, this is something I’ve suspected more and more through this process. My cello is a surprisingly good cello. People with more experience than I do tell me it has excellent tone and projection and balance and is very easy to play. Plus it has had forty years to mellow and develop. It’s just a tad too big for me. And now that the possibility of buying a new 7/8 is becoming more and more real, I’m clinging irrationally to it. Is buying a new 7/8 a bad step? No, not at all; I’m just worried it’s an unnecessary one. Yes, it’s a better quality cello taken in the grand scheme of things, but do my current needs, or those of the near future, require the higher quality cello? Honestly, probably not. Will the 7/8 be better for me technically than the oversize 4/4? Maybe. Might my fibro require a smaller cello in the future? Possibly. Is the oversize 4/4 holding me back? I won’t know until I start playing something else, will I.

Yes, I’m wibbling. Badly. All the shopping and research was fun, but the big step of buying it is so fraught with responsibility. It won’t be a bad investment. It’s just a lot of money for a maybe. (On the other hand, I’ve just remembered that this is temporary anyway; the real upgrade in quality will come with the repair of the Mystery Cello some years down the line when my cousin and I have the money. So there, wibbling. This isn’t the end of the line; this is a step in the correct size direction. Stop second-guessing yourself about this nebulous thing called ‘quality.’ Do you like the sound? Yes. Is it better or worse than the one you’ve got? Neither, really; it’s different. Is it a complete loss of money? No, because resale value will be high, and you’ll probably succeed in selling your current 4/4 anyway at some point. So.)

On top of all that, I feel like I’m cheating on my 4/4. I feel like I’m being disloyal to fifteen very, very good years.

Argh!

As an aside: My teacher pulled out the bow that came with the 7/8 kit and said, “Aren’t you going to play with this?” “No,” I said, “it’s dull and stiff.” “That’s odd,” she said, “they’re usually a bit springier than wooden bows.” “Oh, no, this isn’t carbon fibre,” I said, “it’s fibreglass.” “Fibreglass? Why didn’t you ask for something good? When you take things home on trial you can be like a kid in a candy store: ‘I’ll take one of those, and one of those, and maybe some of this…”. Duly noted. Because eventually, I’m going to need to replace this cracked bow, too….