It's ten to one in the morning and I've just gotten home. I drafted my friend and violist Jennifer and an incredible violinist from our orchestra to play for a friend who is recording an album. I wrote out the parts last week, and then tonight we did the recording.
It's funny, this isn't even the same thing I was posting about before, but something else entirely.
I was quite stressed about this, because a) I wrote out the parts when I was tired after work and my alto clef skills are limited at best and b) I've not done this before.
It's funny, because loads of the music I listen to that isn't classical is nowhere near virtuoso performance, and I enjoy that aspect of it. Lo-fi folk, loud and messy punk rock – I enjoy the sheer exuberance. But when it comes to cello, I consciously only listen to performers who are, essentially, some of the best cellists in the world, so it when it comes to recording tonight I was pretty much freaking out. The parts were dead simple, and virtuoso performance was not required as it will all be treated and processed anyway. Free musicians were required, so you know, he got us!
I reckon it's similar to my paranoia of speaking foreign languages. Growing up in Canada next to Quebec, my French is quite good. I can listen to people and pretty much know what's going on if it's a general conversation, I know how to order food and explain most simple things without looking like a fool. But yet I am terrified of saying anything unless I'm sure my grammar is flawless. Which is ridiculous because I talk to people all the time for whom English is not their first language and I excuse incredible lapses in grammar, including never bothering to conjugate verbs. I'd rather die and sink deep into the earth than speak French that way, but I excuse it in everyone else.
So when it comes to playing less-than-professional level cello as a favour to friend, why on earth would I think I have to be Slava to pull it off? Sheesh. As I said before, waiting until you're magically perfect is pointless. And will never arrive anyway. So whether I felt brave enough or not, I took a bloody beta blocker and did it anyway. First steps, my friends, first steps.
But… we recorded in this huge old insane asylum, and the man at the pub we went to afterwards thought we'd been recording with Tom Bailey of the Thompson Twins as he lives around the corner from the asylum. Ha!
Sonny
11 September 2008 at 1:57 pm
Good for you! But I think that is a common problem for adults especially. We fear appearing not in control or not as good in one area of life as we are in another. Kids don’t appear to have such fears because they are new to everything.
I enjoyed your comments.
Sonny
Owldaughter
11 September 2008 at 4:52 pm
when it comes to cello, I consciously only listen to performers who are, essentially, some of the best cellists in the world [...].So when it comes to playing less-than-professional level cello as a favour to friend, why on earth would I think I have to be Slava to pull it off?
Huh. I think you just finally got through to something deep in my brain. I hope it sticks.
Erin
11 September 2008 at 5:12 pm
True Sonny, though I remember being pretty frustrated and scared sometimes when I was learning, maybe not until I was ten or so.
I know Owldaughter, I’ll forget all this stuff myself in a day or so! That’s why I write it down here, so I can come back to it and try and keep it in my head. Christopher calls it throwing all the good things out of my basket.