(Or just give me a Xanax with a scotch on the rocks.)
So first the universe said to me, “and you will greatly expand your left-hand pizzicato skills this week.”
Last week and into this scores have been arriving via email for this coming Sunday’s 7:30 PM International Street Cannibals Tai Chi Cha Cha (how could you miss that?) concert at St. Mark’s in the Bowery in Manhattan. (The New York one. We probably have an Indiana one somewhere, along with our own Brazil and Poland.) It’s Fall Break, a whole week, at DePauw, and, having played on two of the Cannibals concerts while on sabbatical in New York last winter/spring, I invited myself to play in this one. So I’m flying up there in the morning.
Two of the pieces have lots of left hand pizzicato. If you’re not a string player, pizzicato is the fancy-pants Italian word for plucking. (Classical musicians still use Italian terminology with each other because in the the 1600s opera started in Italy and became really popular.) 95% or more of the time we pluck with the right hand, the one that holds the bow. But sometimes we are playing a note, or notes, with the bow and pluck other strings with the left hand, which is also holding down a string or strings. This is just about as difficult as it sounds. Maybe a bit more, especially if you haven’t done a lot of it for a while.
One of these pieces almost put me over the edge yesterday. I can’t play this a voice said somewhere in me. Keep calm answered another. First learn the slightly awkward double stops and then figure out how to add in the pizzicatos.
Took a break. Laid down on the couch and Figaro, one of my cats, plopped down on my belly. “Help!” I posted on Facebook. “I took a practice break and now there’s a cat on my belly and I can’t get up.” A friend added a comment to the effect that cat therapy is good for the playing. Eventually the cat moved on, I got up, and returned to the cello.
Just did everything in s l o w m o t i o n.
Very, very calmly.
My thoughts went quickly to Dale Stuckenbruck, the wonderful violinist (and musical saw player) who was my RA when I was a 16-year-old high school junior at the North Carolina Schoolof the Arts. Dale would help me practice, bless him, and he taught me more about practicing (calmly, intelligently, methodically, and focused) than anyone else. Thank you, Dale! (Isn’t that great . . . we can still be learning from our earlier mentors 35 years later?)
It’s going to be alright, it turns out. Just have to work out the choreography–which finger will pluck which string when. And then it will speed up on its own. (And it just occurred to me that I’m practicing in tai chi-like slow motion for the Tai Chi Cha Cha concert. Neat, huh?)
So that was handled.
Then the universe said, and you will be humbled.
I made a quick trip to the DePauw recording studio this afternoon, to record the Prelude and Gigue of the Bach G Major Suite for a doctor friend who is making some educational videos and needs some music for them. Oh, I’ve played these movements a zillion times, it will be a piece of cake. Ha! As I listened to the playback of the takes, I kept thinking, man, I’d like to give this guy a lesson! We’ve got something useable, and I may like it better a year from now, but I really need to do a lot more recording of myself. Holy fuck, this music is amazing and needs something more than me winging it.
OK, now back to practicing that left-hand pizzicato.