...

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.)

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.)

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.)

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.)

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.)

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.)