Saturday, May 31, 2008

...

I finally got through to the luthier this morning. The 7/8 I was going to book for a week-long home trial sold last week.

Olivier has promised to order another one in for me to try. He has no idea when he'll have it, though.

I'm either numb or unmoved by it. A bit disappointed, but mainly because I'd made sure my principal was going to be at orchestra this coming week to look at it. Now I won't be able to run it by her until September. But then, I'm not having much of an emotional reaction to anything these days. I'm really run down and I just don't have the energy.

(Originally posted on my main journal Owls' Court.)

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

One Of Those "Ah!" Moments

Something a lot of people don't understand is that singing while playing the cello is hard. People sing while playing guitar all the time; why can't cellists sing too? Despite how easy Jorane makes it look, it's really a challenge and it's something I've never really been able to articulate to other musicians other than to say, "No, it's just hard."

I finally figured out why, thanks to a thread over at NewDirectionsCello.com. Someone asked why it's so hard, and why guitarists can do it with greater ease, and someone hit on the answer. It's because the physicality of playing the cello is more involved and complex than that of playing the guitar. Basically, the movements required and the muscles used include those of the muscles one would use to sing.

To expound: one uses one's ENTIRE body to play the cello, to especially include the diaphragm and body core (EVERY muscle is highly active in cello performance, to include even the legs and feet). Breathing is extremely important with the cello, ergo a conflict may ensue between the cello and voice.


And that's a huge part of it. To begin with, it's hard to sing sitting down, because your torso has less room to expand and there's less support for the column of air. It's difficult to keep the muscles in the centre of the body relaxed enough while playing to use them to sing as well. Sure, you could play standing up (again I point to Jorane as an example), but that requires learning an entire new style of physically playing the instrument. Your angles are different, the weight distribution is different, and so forth. And basically it's hard to use muscles for two different things at once, when each requires so much energy. One might as well ask a saxophonist to tap dance while playing, for example.

Apart from that, other musicians on the thread (who play both instruments) pointed out that the cello seems to take more attention to play. This may be because of all the frequent and freakishly minute muscular changes constantly required to balance movement and direction in both hands and arms, for example. Some say they can sing along only if the cello line is simple enough (and, one imagines, the key). Others have problems with the rhythm of the vocal and the cello lines being different. It's all food for thought, and provided me with an "Aha!" moment. I know how involved my torso muscles are when I play, and I wonder why I never made the connection before.

(Originally posted on my main journal Owls' Court.)

Monday, May 26, 2008

Random Observation

In the station wagon, I used to have to put my cello's scroll over the corner of the back seat to fit it in the back. In the new sedan, I can lie the thing flat on the floor. On a diagonal, of course. But it fits completely. You would think there'd be more room in a full-size station wagon, but no.

A 7/8 in the gig bag will be able to lie across the trunk from side to side, no angling necessary.

A hard case will have to go in on the diagonal again, but still: The cello fits in the trunk! This was something we were mildly concerned about, what with the diagonal and over-the-top-of-the-back-seat thing in the last car. I laughed a lot on Saturday morning when it slid in without needing half of the back seat flipped down.

So not only it is a smooth ride and awesomely easy to drive, it's cello-friendly. I love this new car.

(Originally posted on my main journal Owls' Court.)

Saturday, May 24, 2008

More 7/8 Adventure

Feel free to skip this; it's another record of my impressions of a different 7/8 cello that I'm writing out for my own reference.

I am so glad I recorded this session; listening to it, I can hear things I didn't hear while I was playing. I can also hear the comments HRH and I made about what was happening, which are also valuable. Also, the recorder captured this exchange:

LIAM: That's Z Y X! Mama is playing Z Y X!

[MAMA plays the song]

LIAM: Mama, you did it!

MAMA: I did it.

LIAM: That's my favourite song, Z Y X!

MAMA: Z Y X is your favourite song?

LIAM: It is! The song! Like in the movie!

MAMA: Do you want me to play it again?

LIAM: No.

Right away I could hear that the sound is fuller and richer than my current cello. However, it has the same hello-I-am-an-open-A-string thing that mine has, whereas the other 7/8 didn't. Like the other one, the bridge is less arched so I was bumping strings, used to needing larger movements to cross between strings. My shifts were mostly a fraction off too, because the 7/8 is shorter. But wow, I can't get over how much lighter a 7/8 is, and how much easier it is to move around. The 7/8 size just fits me so very much better.

This one had a less shiny varnish, and the colour was more of a red-brown. It's a Scarlatti model 301 from the shop of Xuechang Sun in China (Beijing, I believe). The 301 is a co-operative workshop-made cello, not handmade by one person. It's fully carved and has a lighter coat of varnish than I'm used to; it's not as shiny as the other 7/8 or my own cello, and I can actually see the grain of the wood as sort of furrows on the surface instead of having them all filled in. The colour is a red-brown, very much like the colour of this cello.

It's easy to play. Other than adjusting my shifts and spacing I didn't have to fight to get a good sound out of it. The recording demonstrates that the lower strings project and are well-defined, as are the upper strings. The upper strings are crisp, almost too crisp for my taste. I didn't ask what it was strung with, but I suspect Jargars and Larsens, a setup I've always disliked despite its popularity. (A quick check of string winding tables tells me that two were definitely Larsens but I'm mystified as to what the other two were.) I like my strings to be very smoothly balanced, and I'm not someone who pushes to have the sound from the top strings be punchy. I prefer it mellow across the board.

I looked at their hard cases, too. They had the Bobelock Deluxe case with wheels there, priced at $560. The salesgirl thinks the Slimline model without wheels would be about $500. And then, before I could bring it up, right away she said everything would depend on how a case would fit a 7/8 as well: would we be able to insert extra padding, how secure would it be, and so forth. (Bam makes case pads that you can insert in any hard case, but the question is how much padding would I need; for example, the hard case I have now would need way too much padding to be safe.) Wheels are very nice, but they usually add two to three pounds overall. I'd prefer something lighter. Of course, the lightest cases are way out of my price range; there's no point in spending $1,500 on a case if the cello is about the same price. (Hmm, I just found a listing for a Bam light case that's less expensive than even the Bobelock. That's worth looking into.)

Overall, I'd be happy with this cello, but I think I prefer the other 7/8. I'll need to play it again, of course, and it will be good to have a recording of each to hear to help me get a handle on the sound. On a shallow level I prefer the colour of the wood and varnish, but I feel that the sound was more even across all four strings in the first one as well. And the thousand-dollar cheaper price tag doesn't hurt, either.

I'll call the new luthier this week to make a reservation to take the Eastman 7/8 home for a trial the first week of June. My old luthier is just as easy-going about a home trial: sure, you can take it for a week, just leave us your contact info and your driver's licence number. Call us when you have an idea of when you want to reserve it. If I can't decide I might book both for a simultaneous trial, but I suspect that won't be necessary. And if either sells before I can buy it, whichever one I choose, both shops can reorder another one for me. No pressure.

While on our way out, I pointed a 1/4 size cello out to Liam. "For me?" he said hopefully, his face glowing. I can always tell when he is honestly touched or overwhelmed by something because he gets quiet, and he delivered his words in that quiet sort of way. "Not yet," I said. "If next year you still really want to play, then we'll start looking into it."

So there: our second 7/8 adventure. The next step is booking the first one for a week-long home trial.

(Originally published at my main journal Owls' Court.)

It Never Rains...

My original luthier just e-mailed me to say they have a 7/8 in stock for me to try. I may go in today. This time, I'll bring the MiniDisc to record it. It's a thousand dollars more, which is more in line with what I was expecting to pay and was budgeting for. More expensive doesn't mean better, of course; it's the sound that's important, and I'm very pleased to be able to hear another 7/8 and to have a broader field to choose from.

Updates as events warrant.

If we don't go to try it today, we'll be going to the license bureau to get the plate for the car transferred instead. Equally exciting, really.

(Originally published at my main journal Owls' Court.)

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Grr

I cannot for the life of me settle down to work on something today. Part of my problem is that I'm not immediately in the middle of a project. And since there's nothing I have to work in, I get to choose what I'd like to work on, and despite the list of in-progress-at-various-stages novels/novellas and so forth, none of them are calling me. I also can't pick music to listen to, so I've just set my whole collection of MP3s on shuffle. Except now I'm hearing things I don't recognise and hovering my cursor over the icon of the player to see what it is.

Another more significant part of the problem, I suspect, is that I'm very much in limbo. I'm waiting for word on my pregnancy book that was cancelled. I'm waiting for the editorial letter and first set of edits addressing the hearthcraft book. I'm waiting for the go-ahead from the gaming company to continue developing content. I'm waiting for the publisher for whom I'm doing the freelance manuscript reviews to finish moving and restart operations again.

I wonder if I'm somewhat burnt out. I want to be working on something, I do, because I feel irritated and useless when I'm not. I don't like feeling irritated, because then when the day is over I feel very nasty about myself because I haven't accomplished or advanced anything. It's a stupid, stupid work ethic thing and I can't shake it.

What I want to do is play the 7/8 again. I don't want this instrument to eat my brain when I could be using those grey cells for something else. I spent much too much time searching for new hard cases that would fit a 7/8 on the internet this morning. (My old hard case is cracked and weighs a tonne, and my current large 4/4 doesn't even fill it entirely; a 7/8 would rattle around dangerously in it, beyond what extra padding could do.) I experimented with possible names for it during one of my many wakeful moments last night. Nothing yet. This doesn't indicate anything yet beyond the fact that it didn't steal my soul the moment I played it.

I don't feel like reading, either. Grr, grr, grr.

(Originally published at my main journal Owls' Court.)

Monday, May 19, 2008

A Monday

I worked all weekend. Saturday morning we went out and about for a bit, but I worked in the afternoon, chasing the end of an idea for the new YA novel and setting things up for the MS review. Yesterday was eight hours of freelance MS review, and I'll be finished it by the end of today. Then I can turn to changing the hearthcraft book as per orders. I won't be paid until the changes they want are made, so there goes my hope of having the money for the 7/8 cello mid-next month.

It's Victoria Day and a holiday here in Canada, so HRH is home. I'm thankful because it gives me a day to work and I don't have to pay a caregiver. The weather is rainy and cold, which is unfortunate. HRH and the boy went off to the EcoMuseum this morning but I've just had a call telling me that it's pouring out there so they're heading to an indoor playground instead. I made pretzels this morning and have already finished my second one. I need to have quick and easy food available to me in the mornings, and the granola bars I make to see me through the week disappear in a day or so, eaten as snacks. There's a new loaf of bread rising too. Over the weekend HRH reset the vegetable bed, tilled our compost into it, and planted peas, corn, carrots, and onions. I forgot about getting seed potatoes, so maybe next year. There's corn and sunflowers strewn along the side of the house too. We'll see what happens. All my herbs are coming back, and we're going to get peppers and lettuce and maybe some cucumbers. We always end up with one or two leftover tomato plants from other people, and I'm the only one who eats them in the house so there's no point in planting our own.

One year ago today was the live dual-band gig. The year off has been good. I do miss playing, but I only miss the parts where it was going well. I don't think anyone misses the time eaten up by rehearsals and travelling to rehearsals and home practice. Even if we'd been in the headspace to keep going, various health issues, work commitments, and plain old timetable incompatibility on everyone's part would have forced us to go on hiatus anyhow. All those things logically preclude a reunion at this time. I am very much looking forward to being at Invisible's upcoming show and not having to worry about conserving my voice or energy for our own performance.

Unless something miraculous happens (like an anonymous money order for fifteen hundred dollars arriving in my mailbox) I'm not going to have the new 7/8 cello in time for the Canada Day concert. I'm disappointed, but I'll live. I suspect it will have been sold by the time I can buy it this summer, so I may not have one at all until this fall. I wonder if a home trial of this one is even worth it. I'm glum about it, because it was pretty much the one thing keeping me upbeat about things this past month.

Right. To work.

(Originally published at my main journal Owls' Court.)

Thursday, May 15, 2008

More 7/8 Nattering, With A Side Of Other Stuff

My principal cellist thinks I should get the 7/8. Of course she's going to listen to critically in a couple of weeks when I take it home on trial, but she strongly endorses the lateral trade notion. She thinks the size and proportion difference will have a positive impact on my playing and comfort.

I am being enabled on all sides. People, you're killing me! I can't afford this for another month, assuming my next paycheque arrives around the eight week post-manuscript-delivery mark (which is not guaranteed). And on top of that I need to do about three hundred dollars' worth of repairs on the cello I've got now. And somewhere along the way we need to do the new computer thing, too, although it's not critical now that I've got the laptop pretty much set up for now. Neither is the cello, of course. I hate being in limbo about so much, work-wise and otherwise.

There is some good news today, however: the publisher with whom I set up the freelance manuscript review gig contacted me this morning and told me they'd pretty much settled after their move and were beginning operations again. So that's less on hold than it was.

The colour of the 7/8 cello I tired is somewhat like the one of this page, only it's shinier with a few more amber-caramel tones to it.

(Originally published at my main journal Owls' Court.)

Saturday, May 10, 2008

7/8 Adventure

This morning I went to Longeuil to test the 7/8 cello the new luthier had called about. I want to get all this down while it's still fresh in my mind.

It is indeed an Eastman model 100, which is the higher-quality basic student model Eastman offers. Eastman is Chinese-made and finished/set up by the luthier. The website says "Entirely hand-carved from solid tonewoods; Spruce top and maple back, ribs, and scroll; Ebony pegs and fingerboard; Attractive and durable amber-brown varnish", which pretty much covers it. It has an absolutely lovely warm golden brown varnish with amber highlights, sort of a chocolate caramel glow to it all. It has a silky finish, and a very feminine neck; I don't know how else to describe it. It's daintier than mine. In fact, when we'd installed ourselves in the practice room, I immediately took my cello out to lay it down next to the 7/8 and the difference in size was astonishing. The neck was significantly shorter, there was about an inch and a half of difference in body length, although the width was only a quarter-inch different. Depth-wise, the 7/8 was about a half-inch smaller.

Sound-wise, it's warm and mellow and silky. The G string is a bit buzzy, but that can be adjusted. It's currently strung with Helicores, a brand that most luthiers have tried to sell to me, and now I can see why: they're velvety under the fingers and soft to play on. The tension is lower than my current Evah Pirazzis are. The sound is even and balanced across all four strings, and what I absolutely loved was that I couldn't tell I was playing an open A string. My cello has that nasal open A; this one was just like all the other notes. The dynamics seem to respond well, but this is what I need another cellist to hear it for: there's a world of difference between sitting behind it and hearing it from the front. Same with the projection. HRH said he could hear mine more clearly, but this is where his hearing problem might adversely affect the evaluation: mine has a sharper projection, the 7/8 was warmer and buttery, so he couldn't hear it as well. I preferred the 7/8's sound, but that may be the novelty of it, and I was in an unfamiliar room. It took almost no right arm power at all to draw sound out of it. It felt as if the bow was gliding along the strings instead of dragging them.

Physically, it felt like it fit better in the curve of my body, just as I'd felt when playing M's 7/8 last month. The bridge and fingerboard were less arched than mine, so I kept bumping strings when I tried to cross. I'm used to making larger movements. The scroll sat almost on my shoulder, something else I'd have to get used to. It's so easy to play; I can see how it would be less tiring to play it for long periods of time.

HRH and the boy were with me, and the first thing I played was 'ZYX' from TMBG's Here Come the ABCs album, after which the boy applauded enthusiastically. Of course, he applauded after scales and the E flat major runs from Mozart's third symphony too before he got restless and HRH took him outside to play. Wonderful for the ego. I played through some of the Gounod Symphony no. 1, and never got around to Valse Triste or the arpeggio exercises I'd packed.

It wasn't an immediate "Oh I love it!" sort of thing. I like it, and it's very comfortable to play, but it would be a sort of lateral trade. I was hoping to trade up, but one of the things the luthier told me was that he's looked at other models, and that in his opinion after this kind of quality the next real step up is the Wilhelm Klier 7/8, which runs between $6000 and $7000. He said that if I really wanted him to he would order a 200 or 305 Eastman model, but that the difference in quality was really only going to be negligible and the price higher.

I need to take a moment and say how much the luthier himself impressed me. First of all, he was fluently bilingual, and didn't make me feel as if I was beneath his notice. It was the luthier himself who sat with me and talked to me about the cello, not an assistant or a salesperson. And being much more confident in my people-judging skills now than I was fifteen years ago, I can say with confidence that he is one of the most honest businesspeople I have met. He's one of those rare people who wants the best for a client, not what will turn him the most profit. He listened to me, took my comments seriously, and addressed concerns capably and reassuringly. And in turn I was very honest with him, and told him I was going to take my time, but that he'd already gained me as a client because I would bring my cello to him for its tune-up at the end of the month. (He did a quick exam and agreed that the bridge needed changing, and when I mentioned that it was greedy and needed a new one every two years or so he frowned and peeked inside, took an internal measurement or two, and said to himself "Yes, and that's why" although he didn't elaborate; I got the feeling there's an adjustment out of whack). In the end, he didn't want to sell me something or push me into making a decision I wasn't comfortable with; he wanted to make sure I was going to end up with something that was right for me, whatever and whenever that was going to be.

The tentative plan at the moment is to talk to the principal cellist at orchestra, who originally told me about this luthier, and line up a date when I know she'll be at rehearsal (or perhaps a single lesson date at her house, as she's not playing in the Canada Day concert). Then I'll sign the 7/8 out for a week or two, and let her pick it over and listen to it, and play it for me so I can hear it from the other side, as well as playing it at home myself. The trial period is unreal in its honesty and simplicity: all one does is sign a contract agreeing that the instrument is in my care and is my responsibility while anything happens to when I'm in possession of it. No security deposit; my cello doesn't get left as collateral; nothing. If this 7/8 sells before I can take it home on trial or decide to buy it, he will order another one for me.

Before I could bring it up he also asked if I would be open to looking at smaller 4/4 cellos. I agreed immediately, and he went on to say that when he saw me take mine out he had been astonished, and immediately understood why my principal cellist had remarked on it: it's larger than normal. It's a big, boxy cello, square across the shoulders and wide across the bottom. So not only am I petite, my damn instrument is oversized. (Ah, the sweet taste of irony. Is anyone else rolling their eyes?) He took the full measurements to have them on file and confirmed that it was on the large side. He pointed out the difference in the necks especially. My current one is thick; the 7/8 is much slimmer depth-wise and width-wise, and it's not just because of the proportion. So as he comes across smaller 4/4s he'll call me. He said he'd order in a Wilhelm Klier for me too if I really wanted to try it, no strings attached (no pun intended!), but I passed. There are other places that $7000 needs to go.

What else, what else? We talked about the honeymoon period and both the instrument and musician settling in with one another's quirks. We talked about playing lots of double stops in the sweet spot once it had been found to help vibrate the body and loosen it up to help everything become even mellower. Half a year after a new cello a new bow, probably, because as I know it's useless to buy a new bow if you're about to buy a new instrument. He looked at my current bow and liked the flexibility of the stick, sympathised with the cracked frog, and agreed that replacing the frog wasn't cost-effective. He guarantees all adjustments and repairs (beyond regular-use wear and strings, of course) for a whole year. If the instrument develops dry cracks or separates along a seam, for example, he will repair it or order a replacement if the repairs wouldn't absolutely solve the problem.

He asked what I would do with my current one, and we discussed selling privately versus through consignment at the shop, and even the option of not selling it at all and keeping it as a second or gigging instrument. This one's seen battle, after all, and the trade-in value may not be worth it. I would be extremely hesitant about bringing the delicate 7/8 into a gig situation, and when I explained he said immediately, "I understand." (Nice ringing G and C for the opening of 'Rock'n'Roll Radio', by the way! I forgot to try anything else, but next time I'll run through 'J'veux pas viellier' and 'Wheat Kings', both of which have the tricky C on the G string that my cello swallows up.) He also warned me that I wouldn't recoup much of what I'd paid for it, as instruments of similar quality are going for much less these days. This was what I'd expected.

I forgot to buy rosin, but I will when I take it in in two weeks for the bridge replacement and fingerboard adjustment. I pointed out a scratch on the side of the fingerboard around where the neck joins the body and asked if it was a crack or just a surface scratch; he sanded it lightly and said it was a crack, but he would fill it in when he adjusted the fingerboard.

I have never been treated so personally and directly in a luthier's shop before. I like that he spoke to me very honestly about what had to be done and didn't gloss over anything. He was direct and open, and at no time did I feel pressured or patronised. It may have had something to do with how young he was; I don't know. I feel like we're going into this new cello search together, instead of me trailing behind him as he holds forth on what is good or bad, talks down to me, or makes decisions about what I need without talking to me.

Now what I need to do is make a list of pros and cons about the 7/8 versus my current full-size cello. It would be a lateral trade, but I wonder if it might not net me a more enjoyable playing experience in the long run. I know how mine reacts, and I know that I can play it, but if it comes down to playability, comfort, and evenness of sound I might turn to the 7/8. The fibro's not going to get any better, so smaller movements and less energy required to create sound might be a good thing in that respect too. There's no rush. I can take my time.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Eeeeee!

The new luthier just called! There's a 7/8 cello that just arrived in the South Shore workshop! The price is hilariously low, which leads me to suspect that it might be very entry-level, which isn't what I want, but I'll check it out anyhow to be sure. I have a tentative appointment to go try it out Saturday morning.

I was looking at mine today thinking that it needed a new bridge and so forth. I'll be taking it with me, of course, so I'll ask what the cost of replacing that might be while I'm there. And I will type out that I need new rosin, so maybe I won't forget to pick that up too.

*headdesk*

Two. Two cellists out of six were there last night, and our principal was not one of them. At the end of the evening our conductor came over to us and said, "You did very well. You must be starting to feel like the violists." Which was terribly funny, really, and if I'd been in a clearer headspace I would have laughed instead of tripping over myself to downplay the mess I'd made of My Fair Lady. We'd sight-read the MFL medley and while the first half was fine, at the halfway point we got to an arrangement of 'I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face' that made no sense to me rhythm-wise and I lost the wave I'd been riding and crashed. (It possibly has something to do with the fact that I can't remember how the song goes to save my life.) On the other hand, we'd handled both the symphonies very well, which was quite encouraging.

At least I got the chance to sit as a stand partner with M. for the first time ever, which was a truly delightful experience. She has absolutely lovely tone. And as one of the violists said, when there's only two of you you can suddenly hear what you're playing. And it was nice to discover that I don't suck, but it was also stressful in that all of a sudden I didn't have the principal cellist's wing under which to play. I couldn't fudge the runs like I sometimes allow myself to do in order to be ready for the next bits. Sometimes my fingers surprise me by demonstrating that they actually do know where to go and when.

I would like to work on the quality of sound I'm producing, but all that seems to fly out the window when I'm trying to get my fingers in the right place. I know, I know; practice...

(Originally posted at Owls' Court.)

Friday, May 2, 2008

Quick Update

Things have been very frustrating over the past few days. I did have a fabulous rehearsal last Wednesday night though. I tried a new bow hold (thank you Christopher Bunting) and it automatically forced me to hold the right arm in that more balletic curve I'd been trying for to affect how I draw the bow. We got the new music for the My Fair Lady and Sound of Music medleys, and after really working the overture and playing through the delightful (and not really Mozart's) Symphony no. 3, we did most of the SoM and had a blast. I've been reading through Position Pieces for Cello by Rick Mooney as well, and the geography quizzes are brilliant. If your second finger is on D on the A string, what note would your fourth finger play? The first? What would the fourth finger play on the D string if you crossed to it? It may be obvious, but it's just what I need to help positions sink in. I should have bought both volumes.

(Condensed from the longer post at Owls' Court.)