Sunrise from orbit, bending Shakers, racing hawks, sailing hockey pucks...

I read that some of us duffers are having trouble getting motivated to practice. I dunno, on the days I can get to it, which are most, but not as many as I want, it's still the best part of the day.

Back in my cellistic infancy and toddlerhood, I had precious little patience for figurative language describing how to play cello. I wanted to hear concrete specifics and bold assertions; exacting descriptions, ideas that could be tested and evaluated, on the essential mechanics of how the amazing system of interconnected levers we call "a cellist" works. No flowery verbal kaa-kaa. No vague "as-if"s or untestable clap-trap. Like Sergeant Joe Friday, "Just the facts, ma'am!"

That was then, this is now. Ok, I guess I've changed.

I've gone to a place where I can enjoy and appreciate inventive takes-offs that stray far from reality. That is not to say I don't appreciate the "factual" and specific information I gather along the way, it's just that my curiosity in that area seems satisfied. I know there's more I can learn, I know some (but certainly not all) cellists would disagree with me on just about anything (Old-timers here certainly have seen that). Of course, I know there could be substantial observable improvement in my form -- elbow moved up (or down), more bow there, less bow here, hand-shape here, open shoulder there... And I certainly need to fit in quantitatively more practice. But rightly or wrongly, I feel comfortable enough in that area that now I want to not just play "correctly", I want to play imaginatively. And at that, I really am just a cellistic infant.

Some of the figurative, or semi-figurative, language I've heard doesn't work for me, yet. Maybe in the future. So being an incorrigible student, I sometimes make up my own stuff.

Mercifully, I'll skip the racey ones. Some of you may have already read my old sunrise-viewed-from-space imagery. I picture the bow stroke as an immensely wide, gradually-arcing, constantly-moving horizon, and the string as the sun (I'm orbiting upside-down, naturally). When the bow touches the sun's line of sight in just the right spot, and they make just the right amount of contact, not too much, not too little, the radiating sun-string shoots brilliant rays of sound in all directions, piercing the black void, and brightly illuminating the entire bow with sound.

Korny and stupid? Yup.

I got more, even kookier, but I already know those. What 'bout yours? Maybe yours are more imaginative.

Anyone doing T'ai Chi + Cello?

Last night was my fourth T'ai Chi class, more specifically, T'ai Chi Chih. Over two years ago I decided to look into it based on things said by Vic Sazer.

The classes are 45 minutes of soft motions, led by an 80-some year-old instructor. For the second time now, starting at about the 25 minute point or so, my arms start to get that feeling of lightness and effortless-ness that I've only rarely managed to feel behind a cello. Like my arms have lost some weight and the joints have had a squirt of graphite applied. I know at least a handful of you know what I mean.

One thing that concerns me is that "T'ai Chi Chih" is a registered trademark. Apparently it was "invented" by Justin F. Stone in the 70's. Hmmm.

As if I don't have way too much to do as it is, I hope to pursue this T'ai Chi thing some more, doing it immediately before some cello practices, IF I can keep my motivation and patience up for it. Has anybody tried it?

CTMS New Year's Camp

Back about 4 weeks ago now, my wife and I again attended the CTMS New Year's Camp out at Camp Hess Kramer. I'm pleased to report that we won 2nd place in the New Years Eve Costume Parade (Rod Blagoyevich and Senator Wannabe), although I feel "Barbie at 60", who placed 3rd, should've won. She was hysterical. We didn't recognize the next day without her wig, heels, knock-knees, "implants", and other paraphernalia.

Thank you to the management of Hess Kramer, who make the facility to many different groups.

No cello classes, but still plenty to do, even for the non-musician, such as dancing, walks to the beach, a class in stretching (which I thought was particularly informative), a puzzle table, and a craft table. Also, various classes in guitar, playing for dances, shape note singing, etc. Also jams and song circles.

Carl, one of the campers, has posted pictures at
http://flickr.com/photos/cbernhardt/sets/72157612889085932/. Look though them and you'll find three pictures of a middle-aged cello duffer playing with others. Proof that I do get out on rare occasion.

Inspiring folk cello sighting

Last night I attended a concert with Hans York as the opening act, accompanied by Myra Joy on cello. Myra Joy's a grad of San Francisco Conservatory (Must be a very very recent grad -- Are those kids getting younger or am I just getting really really ancient? You don't have to answer that in writing here) and has been playing with a number of groups. She related to me about how she got started: she just attended a local jam and was spotted by Shay and Micheal Black, and suddenly approached and asked to go on tour with them.

Ms. Joy's playing for Hans York is understated, matching his voice and style quite well, I thought. For a video that shows her typical playing in song, see Listen to the Moon which was recorded in Fresno last May.

I'm adding her to my list of cellists to watch.

Cellistic New Year Resolutions

One thing I find fascinating about learning cello, and did not at all expect, is the paradoxes. Now that I've met some of them, my hope for 2009 is that I allow myself to appreciate and revel in them.

Ok, for you they might not make sense. You know far better than me what is right for you. But as these years go fleetingly by, they are becoming for me the elusive essence behind learning and practicing the cello. Otherwise, at my age, lack of talent, and station in life, why bother? So here's my list (partly inspired by, but not to be blamed on, writings in Stark Raving Cello):

- To stop trying harder; instead, to just try easier.

- To play fast slowly; to play loud gently; to play slow fleetingly; to play soft intensely; to play easy things with attentive, loving care; to play hard things undeservedly carefree.

- Instead of frustration, to allow myself unwarranted pleasure and joy in visiting and re-visiting my weak areas, with unworried faith that it'll come together, whenever I eventually allow it.

- To hear musical forests, instead of trees of notes.

- To feel more, listen more, absorb more, hear more, sing more, dream more, express more, enjoy more. Worry, doubt, fear, control, and struggle (and ok, write!) less.

A grumpy weekend before Christmas

I was asked to play at a local zoo with a folkie quartet that a violinist and I regularly "guest" with. No pay, not even gas money, but the zoo management is always nice and appreciative, so the band keeps coming back and sometimes they augment with the "string section". When the time came, I really didn't feel like going. It was to be outside, at night, so it'd be cold (by Socal standards, that is). I had other things at home I wanted to work on. I just didn't feel the group is playing well this year. The kids pretty much ignore us (only the occasional parent seems to show interest). It's noisy. There's nothing I play that's essential, it's all various accompaniments. And I'm tired of Christmas tunes. Also, it weighed on my mind this will be the first Christmas I won't be seeing my 14-year old daughter; she stopped coming to Dad's since February, hence a string of court dates, with more to come. So I came late and was real close to just not showing up.

I sat in the back in "left field" position. Too dark to see the sheet music, and I forgot to bring some of the non-Christmas tunes, so I working on very faulty memory. Ugh, what was I doing here?

Then at some point a very severely handicapped young man in a wheelchair, pushed by perhaps his mother, appeared in front of the band. And he stayed in front of the band for quite some time, rocking to the music and doing his best to see what was going on. Hammer dulcimers can be fun to watch and they were right in the front, but he seemed to be particularly looking at me. It was hard to tell, his motor movements were uncontrolled and jerky, maybe it was just my imagination that he kept staring at me. Then his attendant wheeled him around the band to the back next to me, where he swung his arm, as if bowing back and forth on a cello. He stayed there some time, doing his best to experience what I so little appreciated.

What have I done in my life to deserve be where I was, and he where he was? Nothing! Perhaps Dickens had a point about remembering He who made the lame walk and the blind see.

Little did I know at the time that there was a message on my answering machine from a Court-ordered counselor that my daughter wants to reconcile and re-establish time with me.

I hope this season brings all of you good things as well.

Carol of the Bells for 4 cellos posted

As requested, here's the five parts to Carol of the Bells for 4 cellos: 4 parts, plus part 1 down an octave. Note: this might not be exactly the same as what Guanaco or Carol played; about a year ago I expanded it by a few measures and changed the harmony in a couple of measures. It's not enough of a difference that they should change, it would just cause confusion, but I don't think I have the original version around anymore.

So now, who else will prepare something for cello ensemble? We could have a cello blog library of arrangements.