Teaching an Old String New Tricks

Mary and I are leaving on Monday, April 4. We would have left on the 1st, but I need to play in a concert on Sunday the 3rd. Before you ooo and ahhhh about how wonderful it is that not only am I planning on hitchhiking in France at my advanced age, but that I also do concerts, let me tell you how this came about.

I quit playing violin in the ninth grade putting away the old fiddle with no regrets.

Unfortunately for me, I love my daughter in law. She adores my son, is the mother of three perfect grandchildren, and teaches high school French. I try to help her whenever and however I can, but when she asked me to join the beginning string ensemble with her, I balked, explaining my history with violin.

Mandy has only played for about a year, so she still has enthusiasm. Not me. The only reason I said yes was because she needed company on the hour-long drive to rehearsals.

We had to audition, playing one piece from memory and doing some sightreading. I could hear Mandy’s audition through the wall of the non-soundproof room and knew it went pretty well. My own audition was terrible. I forgot how the piece went, and every sour note I’d ever played returned, not to mention the screeches.

“This is why I quit!” I moaned to the nice lady doing the judging.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she replied, but I knew it was, because when I left the room, a young boy in the second violin section was playing my piece from memory and sounding a lot better than I had. Almost everyone in the Ensemble is in either elementary school or middle school. Humbling!

When we got the results of the audition, Mandy was first chair of the third violins while I was the second chair. It was a safe place with no expectations of brilliancy.

A few days later, my D string broke while I was tuning up. Luckily, I found an unused replacement in my case. I hoped it hadn’t been waiting there for fifty years, but even if it had it went on easily and seemed fine.

The more I played on it, though, the less fine it felt. There was a squishiness that didn’t seem natural. It went too far down whenever I drew the bow across it, which too often made the bow hit one of the adjacent strings. The sound that emerged was even worse than my normal sounds, and the resonance from the string was never as full and rich as I wanted it to be. I would saw away, willing it to answer with aplomb, but all I’d get was wimp.

Still I practiced, hoping that someday be more like that little kid in the second section.

When that didn’t happen, I finally complained to Mandy. Strings come in three strengths: light, medium and strong Mandy said I probably had a light D string or one that was too old to do the job.

After rehearsal, we stopped at the music store and I bought a new medium D plus a medium A, in case that one decided to break also. After replacing the D, it felt better but not great. In a few days it felt as bad as the other one had.

“Mandy, would you feel this? I think it’s squishy but maybe it’s just me.”

She tried it out and to my relief agreed something was not right. Back we went to the music store to get a new D, this time a strong one. I wanted to use the new medium A string as an exchange, so got the envelope out of my case. Oddly, it was empty. I then picked up the D string envelope which I hadn’t thrown away, and found there was a string in it.

“What’s going on?” I asked Mandy, who can figure anything out.

“I think you replaced your D string with the A string,” she replied.

Since each string is manufactured to a certain tension and tone uniquely suited to the notes and tones they are meant to play, an A string cannot be a D string any more than a D can be an A.

We drove back to Mandy’s house where she replaced my D string, which was an A, with the real D.

The first note I played on it was a revelation. It felt strong and resonated with a full, rich tone. I almost cried. After weeks of struggling, I had found out it wasn’t all my own lack of skill that made them play badly. The A string was undoubtedly a fine A string; it was simply in the wrong place trying to be a D.

It felt so good to have that D string turning out decent sound that I began to practice twice, three times longer, and enjoy it more. Yes, I now enjoy playing the violin. I’ve never said that in my life!

Am I as good as that kid in the second violin section? Nope. He keeps improving because he’s at the beginning of his potential. He’s now in the first section while Mandy and I have moved up to the seconds, so we are improving, too.

And that’s why I have to wait until Monday to fly to Paris. It's important to be in my right place, doing the best I can for those good young players. This odd turn to my life, playing violin with an Ensemble of young musicians, takes priority over scurrying off to Paris. I’m grinning in amazement as I type that.