Borrower

It’s the oddest thing. I am one day out of my orchestra’s season, and I feel utterly different sitting at the cello. I am able to focus on a different array of technical and psychological facets of playing – perhaps better ones, I’m not sure yet. It once again proves to me the inexorable link between the mind and the body.
Something I had attempted to describe to a student started to manifest itself as I was practicing – the role of the different right hand fingers. I said that the first and fourth fingers are not really doing the brunt of the work, they are more like steerers. It’s the second and third that are in the thick of it. Generally I’ve found I can demonstrate or describe things to students far more effectively than I can actually do them when left to my own devices. Teaching is so interactive. It is infectious. If I teach the kid something, I catch it too.

I also noticed that when I enhance my awareness of the right hand fingers, the left hand ones respond in kind. They become more sensitized. When the subtleties of the bow control increase, it gives me the possibility of finessing the touch of my left hand further. I often find my right hand/arm is my left hand/arm’s teacher.

originally published on 6/4/08

Binders

I’ve known musicians who conclude that in order to be happy and fulfilled, they must find more meaning in life than simply excelling at music-making. Although I have explored many other facets of life, in my heart I never really left the womb of music. I have even suggested to people that everything they do should be in the service of their music, philosophically speaking.
I guess today at the bookstore I found a chink in that armor/cocoon. There really must be more to life than music. There is obviously more for 99% of people in the world. Maybe it would have to be a birth of sorts for me – and just as difficult and shocking to my system. Maybe that is one of the main loops I get stuck in: I try to expand my cello-oriented perspective, find it too daunting and alien, and soon fall back to where I started. When I peruse my blog entries, I see how often I have felt like I cannot grow or progress from a place of dissatisfaction, no matter what steps I take. This could explain why.

originally published on 6/20/08

Barley

I’m enjoying playing pretty music. I hope it continues.
I realized why I have been so interested in using every millimeter of the bow lately. Extending to the very frog and very tip extends my body motions just that little bit more so as to provide a greater sense of freedom and openness. If I’m not mistaken, I also think vertical movements of the arm(s) also enhance that feeling. These roomier motions aren’t limited to any one bow stroke or note. If you space it out among many measures and lines of music, it accomplishes the same goal. For instance, originally I thought it only worked for long, slow bow strokes. But briefer notes that are placed in varying portions of the bow hair can convince the brain of the same sensation.

As was observed last summer, coincidentally, deeper inhalations and exhalations also give terrific opening sensations. It’s like your lungs are a bow, and vice-versa.

originally published on 7/30/08

Cheshire

My monkey is fatigued. It does its dance all day, all night. It is the mind monkey. I had to laugh tonight in the middle of the Mozart Requiem as I observed its antics. I guess I never really liked the metaphor of the monkey, but now I am getting it. It has a lot of personality. It is actually your pseudo-self, your scattered self. Your externally obsessed self. It actually can seem very entertaining until one notices how tiresome it gets. That’s why it’s called the monkey. It’s not going anywhere – it’s a natural part of you. But it’s important to distinguish yourself from it. Your truer self, one hopes.

originally published on 10/11/08

Cruella

I am now noticing that there are a number of things conspiring against my efforts not to curl my fingers. Pizzicato, vibrato, shifting and staccato strokes all have a tendency to encourage that shape. I must be vigilant in order not to fall right back into my old habits.
Another ally I have is the thumbs. Although they have their own leanings towards hooking in the opposing direction, when I focus on keeping them more neutral, the fingers do respond in kind.

originally published on 11/9/08

Billfold

I noticed tonight that I sometimes have mini-explosions in my left hand when I play. Little baby spasms. It’s a good thing I think. It may be a road to more efficiency. It is the briefest length of tension possible, and then you instantaneously fall into relaxation. There are many gradations of the spike as well, depending on the material. You can request from your mind and hand that it be an extended, shallow hump, kind of like a long slur marking. I was also somehow having the image of a volcano, with different types of eruptions. Having this as another parameter in the mix of cello techniques is rather effective I think. It adds a far greater range of control over tension levels.

originally published on 3/19/09

Intertwixed

I’ve had a couple of good days of musical digging with my friend. We’ve gone through my concerto movement by movement to understand what is being portrayed. I was reminded of Bull Durham in the sense of the wise adviser and the semi-mindless pupil (me being Tim Robbins). It’s amazing to me how I can embody either role depending on the circumstance. Also how it is impossible to imagine myself in the alternate position during the other.
Although I feel better physically simply when I am exploring and extracting things musically, I have also come upon another technical idiosyncrasy which I know you will care about. Focusing on releasing the hand/arm affects the opposing one in like fashion. I guess I already knew this, but now I am seeing the true benefits of this approach over direct relaxation. It is much less likely to backfire. I perpetually undermine my efforts to relax (!) by overdoing the relaxing mantra I am working for at the moment. I become obsessed over the body part in question to the exclusion of all else, and I end up quite imbalanced as a human being. You may be surprised how easy this is to do to myself.

On the other hand, the indirect approach to looseness seems to prevent this overfocusing. It also has the benefit of affecting a more well-rounded proportion of my body.

originally published on 4/27/09

Arm Action

Upon further exploration of the left hand, I noticed that the arm plays an important role in providing balance to the hand. I like to use the chicken wing metaphor when describing the up and down motion of the arms. This helps distinguish the upper arm from the shoulders and forearm. When it’s elevated, it also gives the hand a stabilizing table to connect to, requiring less effort from the wrist and finger muscles.
But there’s another arm motion, the forearm one. It correlates to vibrato, it was recently explained to me. It’s like a pushing motion, or like when you gesture to someone to back away further. I believe the muscles used for this help support the angling of the hand and fingers. It’s a little like having a prosthetic arm or a mannequin arm, where you can move the arm around while keeping the hand still. The arm is doing most of the work. The hand must be loose, of course.

originally published on 1/3/10

Bing Cherries

Why is it always my birthday o’clock when I glance at the time? Odd. The bobbing motion I enjoyed yesterday may have different implications than I thought. Even with my arm still, I can find comfort with the left hand angle and vibrato as long as I am playing slowly, with little or no rhythms. Once you add different note lengths and emphases, the position goes all to hell. But I think with the aid of the rhythmic bobbing, I can reconcile the distortions and imbalances. It forces a balance and symmetry to the arm/hand unit. It can be overused, as I was experiencing at work today, but maybe when used as a cherry on top of an already functional position, it adds the last crucial piece to the puzzle.
I have also been futzing with my bow grip over the last many months, moving the hand closer to the end of the bow. I wanted to use more fingers than just the index to make sound, so having them touch the frog seemed like a good start. What has also happened is my thumb has become nomadic. It varies placement anywhere from the inner curve to the corner of the frog. I think I have become more sensitive to thumb-related issues of late, so I’ve been considering the exact role of the right one. It seems to be pushing (pulling) the bow to the right and up, which ends up driving the hair down into the string. But this particular direction seems best achieved with the thumb wedged into that corner next to the stick.

originally published on 1/6/10

Mashenski

When I get it right, everything seems to hum. The fingers just lay on the string with their own weight. The vibrato only requires a gentle wiggle. I feel a warm feeling of trust and ease throughout my body. It’s like someone once said, the body is actually supposed to fall naturally into place, if only you could direct it appropriately.
These good vibes this morning were a result of last night’s practice session. I discovered a simple truth. In order to achieve a like feeling in all of the fingers, you have to arc them the same, and distance them equally from the thumb. The thumb must be willing to alter its depth. So it is deepest for the fourth finger, gradually getting shallower as you descend to one, until the thumb may not even be in contact with the neck for the first finger. I couldn’t believe how obvious it was, especially since I’d never heard talk of it.

originally published on 1/7/10