When playing a high note, any note really, where appropriate, but in this case it was a high note, in fourth position or whatever it is called in English, you want not only to vibrate the note but also to hold the fingers of your left hand in the proper positions. They should not bend in the wrong way, or be held at the wrong angle. We went over this, my teacher and I. He asked whether the nerve damage in my left hand made it impossible for me to feel with the fingers, and I answered, “somewhat, but not completely.” In my opinion, the partial numbness is less a problem than general laziness and lack of knowledge of proper technique. He demonstrated the proper finger positions. He looked at my fingers, and at his. He remarked that it was easy for him, he had long slender fingers. But then, he remarked, X has sausage fingers too, and he gets by. X being some professional cellist of his acquaintance. I mentally measured the classroom window. The chances of surprising him so greatly that I could throw him through it like a spear were slight, and with his long arms and legs it would be nearly impossible were he to resist, turning into a stubborn, joyless struggle common in my dreams. I expressed optimism that I, too, could train myself to vibrate that high note.
Tag Archives: cello
Guest Post: Boutros Boutros Ghali on the Inauguration Scandal
I must admit, I am impressed by the speed at which the new President of the United States works. Already on day one, Inauguration Day, his administration had its first scandal. And I am not referring to the flubbed oath, which was not really his fault, and which he wisely re-oathed later, just to preclude any wacko conspiracy theories, on the one hand a sad reminder of the significance of wacko conspiracy theorists in your country, on the other hand sort of entertaining for people who like to laugh at your country, not that I number myself among them. No, I am referring to the Millivanillification of the music. “It was a cold day,” is not an excuse for such behavior, although I do admit that I did feel sorry, as I sat in my study outside Baden Baden, watching the ceremony while dining on a meal of mahi-mahi and cous cous (with Walla Walla onions), for all the musicians playing in the cold (Duran Duran played at low volume on my stereo in the background). Yo-Yo Ma, of all people. A man of his stature, finger-synching. Shame on you, Yo-Yo. Not only did they get Yo-Yo to perform (what, was Isserlis busy? I mean, have you compared Ma’s version of the Bach Cello Suites to those of Bylsma or Isserlis? Seriously.), he didn’t even really perform. Or he did, but then they played something else? That’s what Britney said. Honestly. I could have performed under those conditions. Zsa Zsa Gabor could have, and with greater flair. I sincerely hope an investigative committee convenes soon to look into this.
Posted in Metamorphosism