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Category Archives: Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

The small frame

Lately, 15 minutes is all the practice time I get. I set up the little monkey (who turned three months today, approximately) in his special baby chair next to me, out of reach of my bow but not in front of the cello, and launch into my scales. 

I'm slowly making my way through my major two octaves, a few each time, aiming for even tone, seamless bow changes and a relaxed bow arm. I've always hated minor scales so I admit I'm leaving those until later. And the no open string scale fingering pattern can wait until I really feel like punishing myself. 

When it comes to a piece, I'm adapting a writing technique described in Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird, what she calls the small frame, to practising music. For a writer, it's a way of avoiding that whole blank page staring back at you – you're to imagine a 4cm x 4cm frame and all you have to do is fill that frame. In cello practice, I'm using a small frame to block out that page full of black squidge I'm not ready to handle yet. Most recently, I only tackled the first two lines of the Vivaldi Sonata No.5, second movement. At a snail's pace. Things sounded slightly better, and I upped the tempo a couple clicks. Then the burbling going on beside me turned into a hiccuping wail, so that was the end of that!

 
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Posted by on 1 December 2009 in Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 

Finally.

Finally I got up the nerve to practise my cello.

I haven't played since I was six or seven months pregnant. I was worried about a lot of things – whether I could even make my fingers work anymore, how I could find the time with a lovely yet energetic little baby to look after, how playing music would fit into my new life, whether I could stand how far backwards in technique I'd slid and where I'd find the energy to go forwards.

Thanks to Elaine, Emily and Autumn who have been commenting about playing whilst having a family and Emily's encouraging words about her students. 

So with Elliot in his cradle-chair thing facing me I set up my cello and tuned it. A deep breath. 

It wasn't so bad, you know. Some long bows revealed my bow changes are whuffy and inexact. Scales were a bit fuzzy intonation-wise but progressively improved just in the five minutes I spent on some easy two-octave majors.

I played through the two Bach Suites I had been working on, and a quick look at a movement of the Vivaldi. Interestingly, the things I had spent ages practising – certain interval quaver passages, the feeling of the Bach Courante – were still pretty solid. Passages I had run unendingly were still under my fingers. I've really only had that unthinking playing ability on the flute before, no cello pieces had just happened. It's so imprinted in your muscle memory you can come back to it 10 years later (say) and still play it pretty well but if someone asked you what notes they were or what the fingerings were there's no way you could explain without thinking hard. Which is terrific for when you're performing and freak out – it's almost like your instrument plays itself. 

By the same token, things I had been struggling with – some funny fingerings in the Bourée I never quite got down comfortably, ditto with the Courante – had me stumbling massively. Just another reason why half-practising something doesn't get you anywhere. The moment you aren't concentrating or something distracts you, it all falls apart.

I don't think I'll have a solid hour together to practise in the next few months… okay let's be real, I may get 15-20 minutes at a time. I'm not sure how to really work effectively like this, but I'll have to learn. I can do this – and most importantly, I want Elliot to have a mum who does this. Amazing how motivating that is. 

 
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Posted by on 4 November 2009 in Bach Cello Suites, Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 

Getting wound up

I haven't practised for a few days, because I'd gotten myself all afraid of my instrument.

That last session with the Vivaldi made me feel heavy handed and full of tension I couldn't get rid of. I'm getting into some difficult technique now, and it can't be avoided. I went to orchestra, sat down and sight read the Barber of Seville Overture (four sharps, thanks) and then the Menuetto from Mendelssohn 1 (four flats, no thanks). My brain wasn't computing it very well, but I felt like I held my own pretty well. But I knew there was a pile of fingering to sort out and I was dreading it.

I have to give myself some room to breathe with this cello learning though. It is okay to sit down and have a shit practice, that is not the end of my musical experiences, nor will it even necessarily sound that way tomorrow. It's okay not to get some decently challenging orchestral music on a first read through, or understand what fingerings I should be doing where immediately. It's okay to be full of tension, and there's no point waiting for a time when I'm not, because that is patently not going to happen, so might as well just play the damn thing.

And you know what? Tonight there was a moment where I felt like what I was feeling was coming out of my cello, for about two bars. That's amazing, that's what I've been working on for ages… over a year in a concentrated way. Which just further proves that one crap practice has no bearing on anything else. So there.
 

Capturing sweetness and light

I'm having one of those experiences where a passage is getting harder, not easier, over time. 

Well, that's not strictly accurate… when I first looked at the Allegro from Sonata 5, I thought, hey I can do this! The notes for the first chunk are pretty easy, ignoring the fact it could go like stink. But the longer I play it, the less easy it is. Trying to get some semblance of energy in my bow arm, without working the whole thing too hard. It's quite simple to think you're being energetic and find you're actually sawing away, when that's not the point at all.

Lightness lightness. Skipping, dance-like, light on my feet. 

It's a hard image to capture in my mind on a dark and damp Tuesday night in the depths of winter, let me tell you.
 
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Posted by on 13 January 2009 in Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 

Just getting it

Oh tenor clef, you make my head hurt. 

I've had one of the nasty colds that's doing the rounds everywhere it seems, which knocked me flat for five days or so. My sinuses are so bruised, my teeth hurt. You know the kind.

So when I picked up the Vivaldi Sonata No.5, I went straight for the Allegro and worked on making it more legato and less choppy. But the Largo was calling to me. I love playing those movements, there's such depth of emotion you can get out of dragging out those trills just a little more slowly, and those gorgeous turn-like figures towards the ends of phrases making you wait for resolution. 

The trick, though, is getting your fingers round it so you can think music instead of thinking HOLY CRAP THIRD POSITION BACKWARDS EXTENSION I'M NEVER GOING TO MAKE IT. Which is, you know, still what's going on a little bit. Coupled with a split second or two or complete brain cell lock up as I try and think tenor clef as well. 

Let's listen to Ophelie Gaillard talk about these sonatas instead, and play her beautiful Venetian cello.

 
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Posted by on 9 January 2009 in Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 

New Year

Happy New Year everyone!

I've never been one for resolutions, to me a new year still starts in September, not January. I do hope to get to my cello a bit more consistently from now on. There's been big upheaval at work and with the moving and something else big I can't tell you about quite yet – but I should be able to share news next month, it's been hard to concentrate on music as much as I'd like to.

It's going to be a good six months of Vivaldi, tenor clef and thumb position. Time for a deep breath….
 
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Posted by on 2 January 2009 in Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 

The Vivaldi begins

Don't get me wrong, the Bach Suites are a love and I will no doubt play them for the rest of my life, but I needed a little break from JS. He can be a tad unrelenting, if you know what I mean.

So onto some Vivaldi.

I know this era pretty well. As a flautist of the pretty-good-but-didn't-go-to-music-college variety, you ended up playing either lots of Telemann or lots of Debussy, depending on your inclinations or teacher. Early twentieth-century French flute music is not my deal as a general rule (Debussy's Syrinx an exception of course), so I ended up with Telemann. And boy were we good friends by the time university claimed all my time.

So I approached Vivaldi with some friendliness, and sure enough, the patterns are ones I know and love. The phrases, the echoes, the repeats. I get this stuff.

I'm working on Sonata No.5 RV.40. Entire movements are in tenor clef which is stretching my turkey-fugged brain cells, in a good way.

 
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Posted by on 26 December 2008 in Vivaldi Sonata No.5 RV.40

 
 
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