Skip to main content

with vibrato

I have never been a detail girl. I am more of a close enough kind of girl.

I don’t follow recipes. I don’t measure accurately. I don’t edit or proofread.
Which is probably why I never did anything with research or medicine. Because I might really like my science. But I’m pretty sure no one would want me cutting them open or doing important research or even baking a soufflé.

And I had a roommate who was puzzled by the fact that I played the violin.
Because it didn’t fit with my close enough attitude.
Because violins don’t have keys or frets to help you get the note right.
You have to put your finger in the exact right spot every time.
No fudging. No helping. And if you are off, even by a fraction of an inch. It sounds awful. But somehow, when I practiced enough my fingers knew where to go.
Exactly. Every time. Without even thinking about it.
And it has been years. And I don’t even want to think how rough I’d sound if someone put a fiddle in my hands. But I’d still know where to place my fingers for the basic notes.
Exactly.

But. Getting it exactly right is not enough when it comes to anything creative.
I can play the notes perfectly. And something would sound off. Plain. Flat. Missing.
Instead, any violinist who has made it to about Suzuki book 2…..they have something that makes their notes sound richer. Fuller. And better than just exact.
They have vibrato.

Which means that on certain notes you wiggle your finger a little. Just past and just before the actual note.
And playing the note a little high and then a little low instead of just right on somehow makes it better. And. you still have to know where the actual note is to do this. But just not be limited to it. And of course – too much of this and you’d get sick of it. But in the right places these intentional wiggles make a piece …..well more musical. And I googled it, just to make sure I was describing it accurately because it has been a long time since I’ve attempted it…and it said that it creates a more “emotional sound”.
Warmer. Richer. And Fuller.

My parents paid for lessons and I practiced intently in my room every night. Right after 90210 was over. And I always sat near the front.
But eventually I started getting distracted. There was Calculus homework, soccer practice, and boys and of course Dillon and Brandon.
So I stopped practicing.
But I still knew when it came to auditions that I still needed to play with confidence and vibrato. Even if I wasn’t sure of the notes. And much to my director’s dismay – I still made the cuts.

And I’ve almost sold my violin a few times, but my husband has always stopped me. I haven’t played in well over a decade.
But I still try to live like that.
With vibrato.
Because sometimes just playing the right notes is boring and flat. And sometimes you have to be willing to be just a little off.

Comments

samskat said…
My violin lived in a corner in my parents' house for a long time...and when we moved here, I decided to bring it, and a bunch of loose sheet music, to Tulsa. I pulled it out once, and I definitely do NOT play well anymore (not that I was great to begin with, I was better on the piano), but there's something calming about tuning it and catching the right notes, even after all these years...I never did play well with vibrato, though...
I love this post and it takes me back a million years. Mr. T. gave up on me during my freshman year when I pretty much told him that I had other more important priorities in life besides orchestra. This did not settle well with him and he kind of treated me that way for the next three years.

Like you, I have almost sold my cello but can not bring myself to do it. It is sitting in our media/playroom, in a corner, collecting dust, just waiting...

Popular posts from this blog

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev...

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa...

Of course I did.

Today I am supposed to be doing my last installment in five for ten and write about "yes". And this is not at all the post I intended. But life sometimes doesn't take the turns we want it to. And yesterday a teacher friend of mine called and told me about a memorial service for one of my former studetns and asked if maybe I would consider saying something. And keep in mind, that as a teacher, I pretty much speak to groups of people all day for a living. But. If I have to say something serious and heartfealt, even to an audience of one, I usually get all mumbly and stare at my shoes and forget what I was going to say. Even though I love this kid....and will miss him terribly I have a hard time imaging myslef on stage talking to an auditorium filled with grief stricken friends and family. I texted another friend about my reservations. And she knows all too well my mumbly shoe staring state. And she replied, "Did you say yes?" Did which I typed back. "of cour...