Category Archives: Bach Cello Suites

I’ve now gotten to the halfway mark in the Prelude (end of the first page in my Barenreiter edition). It feels insane that I’ve made it this far. I still get a minor panic attack when I sit down to practice just looking it – holy crap! I can’t play this! You’re kidding right?

Once I spend ten seconds talking myself down, and look at the actual music rather than just a page too dense with black marks, I’m okay again. Full disclosure here I’m working my way through in four notes to a bow, or even separate bows, just to get the thing under my fingers.

I’m at that nasty little bit before the pause on the D – bars 20 and 21. Starting on that low C# and nipping up in an ungainly set of leaps. The fingering isn’t even that hard, but it reminds me of trying to say one of those tongue twisters. She sells seashells by the seashore, that kind of thing. It involves the same kind of one-eye-closed concentration for me.

Listening to Steven Isserlis’ recording, I swear it sounds annoying to play. Watch Mischa Maisky do it at about 1:00. Even he looks like he’s saying ‘urrrrgh’ in his head through that bit.

In many areas of my life these days I've had to adjust my goals. An unexpected half an hour of quiet time while the monkey sleeps outside the local Waitrose that coincides with having three-quarters of a latte left? Absolutely brilliant. 

In cello terms, the first eight bars of the Bach Prelude sounds more like music and less like hesitant chicken scratching through unfamiliar fingerings? WIN. 

Even though I talked up my 15 minute practice sessions, I had a voice in the back of my head saying, 'yeah sure, it will take you three years to get anywhere'. And yes, it will take me a long time, but changing the finish line helps with that. I sat down with the first 16 bars of the Prelude today (In the Night Garden on mute for monkeypants) and those first eight bars I have been working on floated by. For the first time I was thinking about things other than 'holy crap I hate this string crossing'. 

And I experienced that little frisson you get playing those opening bars of the Prelude that feels like every cellist in the world, past and present, is sitting in your chair with you. I love that.  

This morning I managed 15 minutes of practice on the Bach whilst Elliot watched Postman Pat on mute from his playpen. 

What was sounding downright okay during my lesson was woolly and wimpy this morning. I got distracted by messing around with my wolf eliminator, which of course has nothing to do with it – but that's an adult amateur's favourite activity. Why deal with the hard questions of your technique when you can fuss about equipment? Ha! 

So, a precious moment wasted fussing. I played through those beautiful first eight bars again. That nice sound still had not appeared. I have to say, I am the queen of stopping playing and spacing out, and then playing the same section again without doing any actual thinking about what I can do to make it better, like the Better Technique Fairy will sort it out. 

Said fairy didn't sort it out however. 

I looked down, and my bow had inched itself back up over my fingerboard. Hmmm. Forcing my way back down towards the bridge (close your eyes! It's kind of scary down there! No hiding!) and running through those eight bars again… still messier, but gutsier too. So that's good. 

Hearing me play the No.3 Courante tonight, Christopher said it came out with more 'personal ferocity' than he's heard me play it before. That's good, I think.