Evening Violin Therapy

Evening Violin Therapy

• 5.23.2013

"Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life." -Berthold Auerbach

I had a particularly hard day with the kids yesterday.  I wasn't in a good mood to begin with and on top of the endless whining, everything seemed to go wrong.  It just wasn't my day.  After dinner was cleaned up, I realized I had some time to kill before getting the boys ready for bed.  

All at once I knew what would make me feel better.  I asked Jed, "Do you want to hear Mom play her violin?"  He answered enthusiastically.

I opened the case, tightened the bow, and brought my violin to my shoulder.  In that moment I realized how much I've truly missed it!  My violin feels so natural tucked under my chin, like an extension of my body itself.

I began by playing the Seitz Concertos.  I learned them in the second grade.  Easy.  Simple.  I was just warming up my fingers.  Satisfied and feeling a little better, I moved on to my favorite songs: pieces I have memorized from high school and college.  I played Bartok and Kreisler.  I even made sure to play a rendition of the Orange Blossom Special for Jed, pointing out the sound of a train.  

I suddenly felt alive!  The tension I'd been feeling all day had been released into the air as notes and rhythms.  "Why don't I do this more often?" I silently asked myself.     

I then began sawing away on the first and last movements of the Bruch, but... I had to stop when my tenths sounded more like ugly cat screeches.  Ugh.

Playing my violin is like riding a bike: I'll never forget how to play but sometimes I'm out of practice.  It would take a few hours of diligent practice to get those tenths back in shape.

So I picked a new piece: Kreisler again.  After a practice run through of the first two lines I started over.  I played the entire first page.  Perfectly in tune.  The range of emotion!  Dude, I nailed it and it gave me goosebumps.

I looked around at my audience.  Did they just hear that?  Jed and Levi didn't even glance up.  Nope.  No appreciation at all for the many hours--no, years--it took to master something like that.  Figures.  Not many people do.  But I can't blame them.  After all, my boys are still so young!  

I then wondered if my boys might learn to play an instrument themselves.  I remembered Levi bouncing to the beat of the fiddle music.  "Maybe he has some natural musical talent," I thought to myself.  "Maybe he can play the cello.  I would love that... but would he love it?"  I wondered.

Finally, I settled into La Folia, one of my all-time favorite pieces.  My mom says she could always tell how I was feeling by what I played as a teenager.  I remember playing La Folia a lot: slower, dramatic, technical, emotional.  It always sounds great.  

I began the third to last variation on the theme.  

Then I sniffed.  

I smelled something foul.  

I stopped.  "Jed, did you poop?" I asked.

Poop is the ruiner of everything.  And that was the end of my blissful evening love affair with my violin.

I hope to see you again soon, Vinnie.  One of these days my children will grow up a bit and we can spend more time together.  I think we both need some music therapy a little more often.