In Which She Admits To Being A Bad Blogger

Eek; I haven't imported the cello-themed posts form my main journal in five months. Some of that has to do with the fact that often I just mention cello in passing, but it also has to do with not having a lot of energy to write about it in detail in the first place, or do the physical cut and paste. I'm going to catch up and try to get back on the regular updating here as well as on my much more regular main journal. I apologise in advance for a slew of backdated posts that may show up in your RSS feeds, although if your feed is smart it shouldn't pick up anything dated older than two weeks or so. If it does, then hey, you get a huge dose of AutumnCello. I suspect I'll do monthly summaries and paste several smaller or brief cello mentions into one post per month. That should keep the roar on your RSS feeds to a minimum.

December 2009 Summary

3 December 2009:

We got new music at orchestra last night, so now I can share the programme for the spring concert (27 March 2010! Don’t say I didn’t give you enough advance warning this time!):

Vaughn Williams: ‘Wasps’ overture
Debussy: ‘Petite Suite’ (originally written for the piano, four hands, in 1889, and arranged for orchestra by Henri Bussex in 1909)
Butterworth: ‘The Banks of Green Willow’
Haydn: Symphony no. 83 ‘The Hen’

Sight-reading new music is always an… interesting experience. I can give you the correct rhythm, or the correct notes, not both, especially on something I’m not familiar with, like the Debussy. (Or something like Vaughn Williams, whose music I am familiar with and adore, but who is, erm, somewhat eclectic in his use of rhythm and key signatures, I am discovering now that I have the chance to see the scores.) On the other hand, I aced the Haydn. It’s nice that it was the last thing we did before we left.

7 December 2009:
Saturday morning I had my cello lesson, where we worked the pieces for which I was playing new lines. Last group class I volunteered to move from the first line of ‘Ave Verum Corpus’ to the second line in order to keep it on the programme. We’ve been working on this piece for an entire year. It wasn’t ready for last Christmas so it was bumped to the spring, and it wasn’t ready then either so it was rescheduled for this Christmas. And then we lost one of our musicians, which left our youngest cellist on this piece alone on the second line, and he needs someone steady to keep him on beat. I love this piece, especially in this arrangement, and we’ve all worked so hard that I didn’t want to see it cut. I’ve worked hard on the top line, too; it’s the melody, and it’s got some soaring bits and challenging shifts that I’ve really polished. But cutting it would disappoint everyone, so I stepped up and said I’d move to the second line if it meant keeping it. The other song I’ve moved lines on is V’la l’bon vent (do click through to the YouTube video of the McDades singing it, holy wow), a French Canadian winter song that I only heard for the first time this fall when I’d been assigned the piece. Our arrangement was done by my teacher’s father, and it has a lovely little swirling wind theme in the second part. It’s a call and response song that overlaps, so the timing is everything, and after learning the timing of the top line having to recast the timing for the second line, even though the line is simple, is breaking my brain a bit. When I played my part of the duet recital piece M and I are doing I had the very encouraging comment that my teacher really had nothing else to tell me. We could, of course, tweak and finesse till the cows come home, but with a week till recital it’s as solid as it needs to be. I am so happy about this. One more duet rehearsal on Tuesday, then the dress rehearsal on Saturday morning, and the recital is next Sunday.

13 December 2009:

The Christmas recital was fine. I preferred the dress rehearsal version, but the different venue may have influenced that. I had a weird disconnect happen about fifteen bars into the duet where my left hand went to the completely wrong place on the fingerboard (wrong position, wrong notes, wrong everything) in a place where I have never had a problem ever, but overall it was all right. The unison bits were lovely, and I stuck the landing. Our last piece was pretty good, too, so hopefully we left them all with a good impression.

When we got there I went right into the seniors’ residence where we do our concerts, and the boys went around back to the snowy yard, because we’d promised the boy he could play in the snow until it was time for the concert. Apparently they found rabbit tracks, which kept the boy busy for quite some time. While they were out there it started to snow again, too, which wasn’t a surprise; light flurries had been predicted (although what we got was pretty much a heavy snowstorm). In fact, they had so much fun they actually missed the beginning of the concert, but they got in and settled down to enjoy most of it.

As I mentioned earlier, I preferred the dress rehearsal version, but the different venue may have influenced that. I had a weird disconnect happen about fifteen bars into the duet where my left hand went to the completely wrong place on the fingerboard (wrong position, wrong notes, wrong everything) in a place where I have never had a problem ever, but overall it was all right. The unison bits were lovely, and I stuck the landing. I felt off in every group piece except the opening one, though (and in the Ave Verum Corpus, in which I was playing a line I’d been switched to a week ago and played it very well, but the piece didn’t feel tight overall). Our last piece was pretty good, too, and it was a challenging all-cello version of the William Tell theme, complete with a guest flute playing the opening theme. Hopefully we left them all with a good impression. I was so proud of the littlest girls; they’ve improved audibly and visibly in the year since I’ve met them. And it’s so interesting to hear other students play pieces I’ve played before; everyone does them differently.

17 December 2009:

Work news: Now that we’ve confirmed it, I am all backflippy to announce that I am doing the book design for Emily Wright’s upcoming A Cellist’s Manual. I am thrilled to be working with Emily on this project, and to be working on a book about one of my main interests and areas of… er… I can’t call it expertise, but fifteen-years-of-familiarity doesn’t roll off the tongue too smoothly. Anywhats, yay for Emily, and yay for book design, and yay for working on a super awesome cool project!

22 December 2009:

A lovely, lovely carol singalong tonight with the Preston-LeBlancs, marred only by the boy’s meltdown when it got to be an hour past his bed time (first because he wanted to go home, then because he wanted to stay). We did get there later than I wanted to, because the boys got home later than I expected, but we had a wonderful time when we settled down at last. We had a lovely buffet of hot hors d’oeuvres and cheese and nummy little things, and drinks, and opened presents before turning to the music. Both sets of children were enchanted with their respective gifts, and other than the same CD we exchange every year (no, it’s not like regifting fruitcake; every year we buy one another a specific CD so we both have a copy), they gave me a print of one of my favourite Waterhouse paintings, St. Cecelia, which positively glowed in its heavy gilt frame when we saw it in person last month at the MMFA exhibition. The reproduction is surprisingly good, much better than most of those done of Waterhouse’s other works.

We were a guitar, a recorder, and a cello, each sightreading; always interesting! The adults gamely improvised Jingle Bells and Frosty the Snowman for the kids, and we had lovely versions of Away in a Manger and Silent Night, and courageous attempts at other carols. The boy squeezed in between my oldest goddaughter and myself and we sang Silent Night together (this version was all open strings on the cello, so I didn’t need to actually read the music), the boy looking up at me with a smile and copying the shapes of my mouth to sing the sounds. With his quickness at absorbing music and words, it ought to be easy to familiarise him with the traditional carols like the Gloucestershire Carol, Coventry Carol, and the Holly and the Ivy. I foresee a proper Solstice mix CD next winter.

I love this tradition our godfamilies share. Most of us could have kept on playing for a good long time, but small persons have their limits. Next year, we’ll definitely do this on a weekend afternoon in order to have more time to actually play and sing, although there’s something special about doing it at night, with the midwinter darkness outside the snow-framed windows that reflect the twinkling lights on the tree.

November 2009 Summary

2 November 2009:

Cello lessons are getting better, although I’m still having moments where I freeze up or can’t work through a small problem. My teacher had to remind me about things we’d worked on months ago — caterpillars, the little bounce in the shift that provides shock absorption so the shift doesn’t sound harsh — but for once my right hand was behaving. So now my focus is on smooth shifts, elegant ones, done at the same speed my bow hand is moving at instead of rushing the shift.

9 November 2009:

And I had my cello lesson last night, where we worked on the group pieces for the recital. The great Focus on Shifting continued, with the key thing I brought away from this particular lesson being the concept of shifting over the wall instead of through it, using the slight elastic bounce off the fingerboard to travel on the string to the target position and then rejoining the fingerboard with another elastic motion. I worked on this about a year ago, using the mental image of a jellyfish or a squid swimming for an analogy to the motion required (whatever works, okay?) and it’s so rewarding to see that absolutely none of it stuck with me once we stopped talking about it. I also had a note on my Brahms waltz/lullaby piece that said WRONG FINGERINGS, noted as such after the last group class when I got tangled up and saw everyone else was shifting differently, and hoo boy, were they ever wrong. We went forty-five minutes over time as a result of trying to get them corrected. My teacher is an absolute saint. I also learned that my proper 7/8 soft case arrived at the luthier! This is going to be a straight trade for the 4/4 case that my 7/8 cello came with. I originally told the luthier I’d stop by next Saturday but that doesn’t make sense time- or gas-wise; I’ll send the 4/4 case over with HRH on Friday, and he’ll make the ten-minute trip to the luthier’s shop after work on Friday on his way to collect the boy.

13 November 2009:

Concert announcement: Wien und München! Yes, gentle readers, the time has come again to make plans to attend the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra fall concert! Every fall we present an introspective and soul-uplifting concert to celebrate the season, and for your entertainment we have prepared a challenging programme that our new conductor and musical director, Stewart Grant, has titled Wien un München (Vienna and Munich).

Circle Saturday the 28th 21st of November on your calendars. At 19h30 in the Valois United Church in Pointe-Claire (70 Belmont Ave., between King and Queen), the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra will present the following works:

Mozart: Ouverture Der Schauspieldirektor (The Impresario), K. 486
Schubert: Rosamunde - incidental & ballet music
Weber: Concerto pour clarinette no. 2 op. 7 - Allegro (soloist: Eric Braley)
Mozart: Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) K. 620- In diesen heil’gen Hallen (soloist: John Manning)
Beethoven: Symphony no. 8 op. 23

Admission is $10 per person; admission is free for those under 18 years of age. The concerts usually last approximately two hours, including the refreshment break. There are driving directions and public transport info on the church website, linked above. I usually encourage people who are vehicle-less to find someone who has a car and share the cost of the driver’s admission to the concert among them. It’s more fun to enjoy the evening in the company of others, after all.

This is the first concert with our official new conductor Stewart Grant. We’re really enjoying the work he’s doing with us, and judging from the reception of the Canada Day concert, audiences are enjoying it, too. Come experience our first proud formal performance with this talented and experienced conductor!

19 November 2009:

I have some cello to work on. Last night’s rehearsal was amazing but incredibly draining; with the fibro being the worst it’s been in two years, I’m moderately concerned about keeling over halfway through the second part of the concert on Saturday night, and no, I am not kidding. I think what will save me is that fact that the Beethoven is at the end on the actual concert night.

23 November 2009:

We had an early dinner, and then it was time to dress up for our first official concert under the direction of our new conductor. The boy chose a very nice red cabled sweater to wear. The concert was lovely. Pressing past the usual enthusiastic support I had feedback that the sound was more focused and rich, so evidently we’re doing something right. I was very happy with my performance in the first half, but intermission apparently broke me because I lost focus in the Beethoven. Still, it was very enjoyable. Our clarinet soloist was a knock-down success; I really enjoy doing the second Weber clarinet concerto. We had a fabulous audience of about one hundred people, among whom were Jeff and Devon, Lu, Ceri and Scott, and HRH and the boy, who stood on his father’s lap to applaud and cheer loudly at the end of the Beethoven. Thanks, everyone! And our spring concert has already been announced: Saturday 27 March 2010 (2010, yikes) at Beaurepaire United Church (25 Fieldfare, Beaconsfield, QC) we will be playing Vaughan Williams’ ‘Wasps’ overture, a Haydn symphony (I forget which one, sorry), a Debussy suite (possibly ‘Images’? I don’t think it’s ‘Bergamesque’ because I would certainly remember that, but I didn’t get the title noted down in time and now I’ve forgotten, woe!) and something by Butterworth. Mark the date down now (or whenever you get your 2010 calendar).

October 2009 summary

13 October 2009:

Friday night I had a good cello lesson. We cleared up some fingerings in the Beethoven symphony, then I said I wanted to work on recital stuff instead of my lesson stuff. I’d been playing on Thursday night with the practice mute (a good hour and a quarter of practice, hurrah, although it meant I didn’t sleep well) and was struggling with making an Air by Bach sound properly smooth, and I’d worked on the Mozart duet and Ashokan Farewell too. I also finally said I needed to walk away from the Berceuse, because I was fighting it so much that it was causing more problems that it was solving. My teacher said that leaving it wasn’t a problem; we’d revisit it later. Although, she added, I’d been making progress on it, even though I couldn’t tell. The Mozart duet had good parts in it, and I have notes to help me focus on string crossings and smoother shifts. We worked out better fingerings for the Bach that made it so much easier, so I’m feeling better about that too. I don’t feel as overwhelmed by it all any more.

15 October 2009:

Orchestra was good last night. At least, it sucked less that it had for the past three weeks, so things must be better. I still need to work on some of the Beethoven trouble spots. Some I have down, others I don’t (which is an incredibly helpful statement, I know). We got to play the Schubert, which was nice because I could play it with no trouble even without practice, and we sight-read the first movement of the second Weber clarinet concerto (well, it shouldn’t have been sight-reading, because I’ve had it for two weeks) and that wasn’t as much of a disaster as it could have been once I remembered that we were in E flat major. It always sounds so wrong until you hear everyone else playing.

19 October 2009:

Saturday AM: Awful cello lesson. It’s been a while since I almost broke into tears. I’m at the I-can’t-do-anything-and-I-don’t-understand-why point.

26 October 2009:

An excellent cello lesson always begins the weekend nicely. Things have improved over the past couple of weeks, which is great, but I’m still a month behind where I ought to be. The six-week breakdown of technique while my subconscious implemented the new lesson stuff really crippled my progress in orchestra.

30 October 2009:

On Wednesday M. came over for our first rehearsal together of the Mozart duet we’re playing for the recital in December. Nothing like a practice session with your duet partner to emphasize that you’re really not as bad as you think you are. I sounded much better and steadier than I thought I did, with pretty good string crossings. This piece is all about waves and flow and steadiness, so I’m further along than I thought. There are still places that go ‘crunch’ so there is lots of room for improvement, but I felt a lot better about it than I did going in to the rehearsal. Orchestra that night wasn’t a compete disaster either: I got some of the harder bits but flaked out on the easier patches at the end of the Beethoven. I hate doing that. Just under one month till the fall concert, too.

Resigned

I've just written, translated, and sent off the regretful decline of the reconstruction quote for the Mystery Cello. I've been putting it off because I haven't wanted to formally call an end (albeit temporary) to the dream. But it's been a month (not that I intended to let it languish that long in my inbox, dear god, where did November go? scratch that, where did 2008 go?) and it's irresponsible to let the affair drag on any longer.

So I wrote a thank you and and an explanation of why we had to wait, and reinitialized my search for a 7/8. I should put my 4/4 up for sale as well to free up more money, but I'm enjoying the sound it makes in my lessons and I'm clingy when it comes to things like big resonant instruments that have been my companion for fifteen years. My teacher has assured me that if it sells before I've found a new one I can use the cello she still has from before she bought the beautiful one she uses now, which is lovely and mind-boggling but somehow I doubt I'll be caught without one. I see the same celli up for sale online all the time. I also have no idea what to ask price-wise for the one I've got. I'll talk to the luthier when I'm next in. I just wish I didn't feel like I'd killed something heartlessly.

Anyway, I am consoling myself with, and actually beginning to revive my interest in, trying 7/8s again. In the meantime my teacher has somehow suckered me into playing a solo at the Christmas recital in three weeks. I suspect I agreed because she proposed it so nicely (in the "possessing, marked by, or demanding great or excessive precision and delicacy" definition) and didn't make me feel like I was being railroaded into it. What I wanted to ask, but didn't because I am shy and despite the fact I've played with her for seven years I've only been her student for a month, was who else was soloing and what were they playing. Because I'm doing a Bach minuet, and part of me is relieved because I played these things thirteen years ago, and another part is mildly squirmy because they're in the Suzuki level 2 book, for heaven's sake. I was playing sonatas before I stopped lessons before. Mind you I've lost a hell of a lot of decent sound production and technique since then, so these are reacquainting me with the basics, but still. Not that the people in the senior's residence will care. They will be too busy being charmed by the six year old playing Suzuki book 1 pieces on her tiny cello .

Speaking of the six year old, my teacher told me yesterday that her next-door neighbour has a four year old who is obsessed with music and wants lessons. Generally the idea about children and lessons is not to bother until they can read (something about their ability to organize the info they take in, and I suspect so as not to utterly crush the joy they have in spontaneous music) but she knows that Sparky is also excited about the idea of music lessons, so he can play the cello like Mama does. So she has proposed that the two boys come to the group lesson on Sunday to see what it's like. Our group lesson is divided into two halves, the younger students for the first hour, then a short social thing, and then the adults have an hour of group lesson. The boys would observe the younger group lesson, and if they are still as excited about things she'd think about maybe having a special series for them to learn about rhythm and other pre-formal lesson skills. She mentioned that the McGill Conservatory has a Very Little Musicians program that might do as well.

I told Liam about this Very Special Invitation last night and he was very excited. His first question was, of course, "What's the little boy's name?" "I didn't ask," I said. "I forgot that it would be important to you. I'll ask when I see my teacher tomorrow at dress rehearsal." So he went around for the rest of the evening telling his father and the cats that he and 'the little boy' would be watching a cello lesson. We'll have to talk about proper etiquette and such tomorrow, both for the concert and the lesson the next day. The tentative plan for Sunday is to explain why he needs a slightly early nap and for HRH and I to bring him to the young group lesson, after which the boys can take off to the Thomas layout bookstore while I have my adult group lesson. If he's unbearable after having attended the concert Saturday night we can call it off, and there's always the option of HRH whisking him away from the lesson if he can't sit quietly.

I looked at the calendar yesterday and realised that there was a Wednesday rehearsal, my lesson on Thursday, a dress rehearsal tonight, the concert on Saturday, and the group lesson on Sunday. Good grief. I'm also mildly freaked out about the amount of work that has to happen between now and Wednesday, because I'm teaching a real-live university class on Monday morning (subject: Neo-paganism, and I have an eight-page lecture outline and the dreadful feeling that I'm going to demonstrate an Epic Fail by somehow being unprepared... I always feel like there's no good way to make the info flow logically) and have a coffee/lunch date on Tuesday and an assignment due for the evaluations Wednesday which is only about 30K words but revolves around examples drawn from Biblical stories and quotations so I'm going to be flipping through a Bible as I do it, which will slow things down.

Back to the cello stuff. I'm liking the sound that I'm (sometimes) producing in my lessons. It's a bit of a juggling act because I have to remember things about my bow hand, my right elbow, my shoulders, the left wrist and elbow that we've been working on, and then all the usual technical music stuff too. But there was a point in yesterday's lesson where I sounded good, and where I could hear and feel the vibration of the bow across the string in all the right ways. It feels sometimes like I'm not grasping very basic things, but things are improving in general at orchestra thanks to the new awareness I have of my body and how it moves, so there's hope.

~
* The original post at Owls' Court
* Owls' Court: the main journal
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Life Is Good

Today is a beautiful, sunny, crisp fall day, and I had my first private cello lesson in ten years.

We addressed lots of things, which didn't feel overwhelming at the time but as I'm processing it I'm thinking that wow, yes, it was a lot. Ringing tones, intonation and tonalization, bow grip, leading with the elbow (which is completely at odds with how I was originally taught, which was to lead from the wrist, but I can see how leading with the elbow opens the body up and can produce a more beautiful and precise sound, and she says she was first taught the wrist way as well so at least I'm in good company), exercises for the bow grip and how it's supposed to pivot around the thumb as the bow moves from frog to tip and back, shifting exercises from first to second position... yes, it's a lot. But these things all came up as we worked through a Schumann chorale piece, playing slow, long notes to really hear what was happening. I spent a lot of the lesson with my eyes closed or staring off at nothing while I tried to listen to the sound I was making and feel the way my hands and arms had begin repositioned so that I could do it again on my own. I felt muscles in my right arm that I didn't know were used while bowing. I just hope I can remember how it feels.

She asked about what books and exercises I had, what I'd played before, and what I was interested in playing. I didn't think at first to list the things I wanted to work on, but I didn't need to because most of them came up in the course of the lesson! Ultimately what I'm looking for is how to better create a beautiful sound, something large and rich and, well, beautiful. So we're going to go back to some of my first pieces and work on those, focusing on intonation and lovely sound, and start looking at the Rick Mooney books I bought this summer to help shifting and position work.

I am so happy to be doing something about this. And it's affordable, and enjoyable, and good for me.

I realized at the end of the lesson that I'd spent an awful lot of the last fourteen years trying not to make a big sound, thanks to the scarring experience of having seniors banging on my floors and ceilings when I tried to practise at the very beginning. The Resident Fan Club will be happy to know that from now on I am not allowed to use a practise mute, nor pull the power I'm trying to channel through the bow. My teacher's main room is tiled with lovely earth-toned ceramic tile and has a grand piano in it, so the sound echoes beautifully and it's really easy to hear sympathetic strings vibrating when you play a ringing tone.

In other cello-related news, I have a lead on a semi-soft cello case that is exactly the one I loved so much that came with the Eastman 7/8 I tried this summer! The person selling it on Kijiji is being slow about returning my e-mails though, and I don't want to lose this the way I've lost the last six tries to buy a secondhand iBook. I'm now waiting to hear when she can meet me so I can see/buy it. And last night's orchestra rehearsal was very good too; we're sounding a lot more precise and there are actual dynamics happening. We spend the first ten minutes doing exercises with a scale related to a piece we're working on, using different bow techniques and strokes and so forth. The guest conductor is tailoring these exercises to something we'll encounter in the music we're working on that night. Very clever; keeps it all fresh in the mind. And as for the music, the Wagner's off the programme and a Vivaldi concerto grosso is on.

Of course the postperson came while I was gone, so I missed a package. But there were cheques for work done waiting for me when I got home! I also did some banking, stopped by the library to pick up a reserve and found two other new acquisitions that I wanted to read as well, I put gas in the car, and did a small grocery pickup. My cello lessons are right by Fairview, and as I pulled away from my teacher's house I thought, Is there anything I need at Fairview? Nah, and kept going... only to realize on the highway halfway home that yes, I had indeed needed to pick up something very specific at Fairview, and that I was an idiot because I even had it written on a list of things to do... that was safely inside my pocket where I couldn't see it. Argh. Looks like I'm going to need an agenda again, something more portable than my lovely but big Daytimer binder I used to use when I was working outside the home. Maybe I'll treat myself to a trip to the office supply shop on the way to collect the boy, to see what they have.

In the meantime, I am brining chicken. I am tempted to get some Brie and mushrooms so I can make those delicious chicken pastry things again, but HRH is leaving early tonight so I don't think we'll have time for that. The chicken will be just as lovely on its own.

~
* The original post at Owls' Court
* Owls' Court: the main journal
~

I Can Has Cello Lessons!

Starting after Thanksgiving, in fact (which means in three weeks, where did the year go?) and at a surprisingly low fee too. The same hour-long lesson fee I first paid when I started lessons fifteen years ago, actually. That particular lesson fee went up every year until I was paying 30% more in my fourth and final year of lessons. I expected this lesson fee to be somewhat equivalent to the last fee I paid, or to be even higher to reflect the natural economic inflation of ten or so years. I am, of course, very thankful that it's not bank-breaking, but still, I am astonished at how affordable it is.

I have already been informed that we have a Christmas concert in mid-December. And I'm okay with that. (Wow. Thank you, Random Colour.) Plus there will be a group lesson once a month! I think that's really neat.

Now I need to sit down and think about my goals so that I can articulate them to my teacher when the time comes, because I'm certain she will ask. Things like becoming more familiar with the geography of the finger board, a more solid foundation in theory (or any foundation at all... it's embarrassing when a conductor starts using solfege terminology and I, er, can't follow it *cough* *cough*), intonation... I'm sure there will be more that come to mind. (A better bow hold, more efficient left hand movement, oh, the list will go on... and this sounds like a letter to Santa. Dear Santa, please bring me a better understanding of A flat major and D flat major, an accurate thumb position, and a better vibrato with my fourth finger. Love, Autumn.)

~
* The original post at Owls' Court
* Owls' Court: the main journal
~

The Evolution of the 7/8 Adventure

Okay, so, yes. Where were we in our 7/8 adventure? Right; decapitated mystery cello.

The stars aligned and my luthier and I were finally in town at the same time, so I brought my cello (whose name is Adele, actually, but if I suddenly start referring to an Adele without explaining it I'm fairly certain most readers will wonder who I'm talking about) in for a tune-up, and the mystery cello in for an evaluation of necessary work.

I can't tell you how excited Olivier was when I slid the body out of the case. (Heh -- how's that for the first line in a short story? Must file that away somewhere.) He turned the cello over and over to look at it, measuring here and there and saying, "German, this is beautiful, when it's restored it will sound lovely!" It's officially a 4/4, but a small 4/4, which was one of the acceptable options back when we began the 7/8 search. He measured the neck and we discovered that it's actually a centimetre too long. That may not sound like much to you, but when the world of lutherie works in millimetres, it's huge. It would mean I'd be playing fourth position way further down that I should be. That's ungood for technique and playability.

So let's see, here's what needs to be done.

- the back needs to be taken off for the work to happen (a separate charge all its own, as it's a huge deal)
- the two cracks on the shoulders need to be patched from the inside
- the hole/dent needs to be patched from the inside
- the button needs to be regrafted
- the two missing chips on either side of the neck block (where the neck is attached to the body) need to be replaced with newly carved bits and grafted on (alas, this was the one thing that will be new on the body itself; he asked hopefully if the bits were somewhere in the case so as to use the original wood, but no luck)
- the cracks in the neck block need to be fixed and a patch put under it all to strengthen it
- the fingerboard needs to be replaced (or reshaped, we're not sure yet)
- the neck needs to be adjusted to make it smaller (he thinks he can shave a bit off the base where it attaches to the body to take off a few millimetres there), and some cracks filled
- the fingerboard needs to be moved down from the nut a bit (here's where we'll make up another few millimetres)
- a new bridge, soundpost, strings, and tailpiece (because the one that came with it is very heavy, which suppresses vibration and closes up the potential sound. I suspect we'll end up with a new endpin too, but that's not essential.)

While this list sounds extensive it's really not. The basic integrity of the cello is sound; it's a miracle that there are no cracks or punctures on the belly or the back as a result of the car crash. Olivier is anticipating a glorious sound from it when it's in playable condition. And while he couldn't give a firm estimate today, he thinks the repairs will cost between two and three thousand dollars. (That's nothing, and pretty much what I expected. And as I'm sharing the cost of repair with my cousin, even if it's on the high end of that spectrum, my share will still be less than what I'd budgeted for a new cello.) And most dizzying of all... once restored, it will be worth between eight and ten thousand.

This alone scares the heck out of me. It's pretty equally matched by how much I'm awed by the opportunity to play it that Fate has granted me, though. Surpassed by it, truth be known. I'll request an official certificate of appraisal once it's all done and use that to insure the hell out of it.

He'll email me this week with a final figure, I'll give the go-ahead (because really, how could I not?) and away we'll go. I have no idea how long it will take; he'll probably give me an estimate on that when he emails me the quote. In the meantime I'll start shopping for lightweight ultra-protective hard cases, because there's no way I'm hauling a nine thousand dollar cello around in a soft gig case. (Also on the shopping list is a soft case that doesn't scratch Adele. Or I may bring the current gig case to a tailor and ask them to sew in a flap of chamois or something of the sort that will lie under the zip.) I'll also start looking at new bows, because I'll need something better to work with than my $130 cracked-frog bow that I love for my current cello but needs replacing anyhow.

I am so very excited about this. Olivier is too, which tells me more about the quality of the instrument than anything else. And if I'm going to be playing a cello of that kind of quality, I am absolutely going to start taking lessons again this fall. Otherwise I'll feel as if I'm wasting its potential. I'll speak with my section leader at our first rehearsal back.

As for Adele, I'm having very basic but necessary work done: new bridge and strings, soundpost adjustment, the fingerboard crack filled and the playing surface planed to obtain the proper scoop and level out the odd bulge it's developed. ("Planing the warp out of it will make it much easier to play," he said, to which I involuntarily responded, "Thank God." The one drawback to testing new cellos is that it's demonstrated how less-easy mine is to play.) As much as I love the Evah Pirazzi strings I don't want to put a $250 set on it if I'm going to play the German cello once it's ready, so we decided on the combo of a Kaplan Solutions A and D with a Helicore G and C. It's actually a combo I'd noted down while researching new strings. She'll will be ready next weekend, although I won't be here to pick her up; I'll have to collect her the following week.

So there you are. What was once a 7/8 quest has evolved into the rescue of an on-the-small-end-of-full-size turn of the century German cello. I'll have to make sure he puts his own label inside once it's reconstructed, the luthier's equivalent of signing your work. It's one of the only ways people can trace the evolution of an instrument. He'll certainly deserve the credit.

~
* The original post at Owls' Court
* Owls' Court: the main journal
~

Orchestra Update

We had a general meeting of the orchestra membership last week, something has hasn't been done in at least eighteen years, possibly the entire life of the group. There have been some changes. They're growing pangs, really, because for three decades our original conductor Andres helmed the group, having founded it and maintained it on his own. When we lost him so suddenly and tragically the group needed to develop some guidelines and new methods out of thin air, and we're still working them out as we encounter obstacles. One of the things we're refining is our method of selecting and reviewing conductors. Our most recent conductor's term has ended, and we're now preparing to audition three new conductors over the upcoming season, one per concert session.

This happened some what precipitously, because we didn't have a clearly defined review system in place. The point is, most of us expected to be somewhat adrift for the first while due to the unexpectedness of the event and the timing, but to my surprise at this general meeting the exec revealed that we not only had a guest conductor in place, but we had a programme and our first concert date scheduled. This is going so well that I can't help but suspect our decisions in the matter have all been the correct ones. Not only do we have our first guest conductor scheduled, but we've had a call from the director of the WIYSO expressing interest in one of the future guest spots, as have a couple of others. There were some suggestions from the membership too, revolving around multiple performances of the same programme in different areas instead of a single concert, raising membership fees to generate more available capital with which to pay conductors (thereby enabling us to attract higher-profile directors), and communication suggestions (especially an interactive website with a members-only section to enable us to share ideas and receive information). The plan is to have a different conductor for each of our three concerts in the upcoming season, to evaluate each, and then vote on one to invite back.

From what I can remember, our first programme will consist of a Mozart divertimento for strings, the Iphigenia in Aulis overture, Haydn's 104th symphony, and a Vivaldi concerto for four violins with continuo (our prize for the winners of the Lakeshore Chamber Music Society's concerto competition). Our first rehearsal is on September 17, and our first concert is on November 22. We'll have to be really focused and on the ball with this new conductor to prepare a concert in that period of time. This will happen naturally of course, as everyone will be hyper-aware and paying very close attention to the new director's technique. New blood to stir us up will be good. I'm looking forward to exploring music with a new director. One of the things I realised through this summer mini-crisis about the orchestra leadership was that I was focusing on my own satisfaction with my technical performance in a concert and extrapolating that to measure the orchestra's overall performance, which was wrong of me. I was also shifting my personal focus to technical improvement because I wasn't getting artistic or interpretive satisfaction from the overall musical experience. The orchestra really needs to grow and develop musically now. We'll see what happens in the coming weeks.

Apart from that, musically I've been kind of on hold. I've been playing songs and such, testing my treble clef reading, but the 7/8 search and the mystery cello repair hasn't moved forward. Why? Because my luthier and I miscommunicated about vacation, and he wasn't gone the first two weeks of August but the last two weeks. Had I known I would have brought him my cello for its tune-up and the mystery cello as soon as I got home from our trip. Ah well, everything ought to be back to usual now that it's September; I'll call him Thursday. With orchestra only beginning two weeks from now, there's time to take my current cello in for adjustments, new bridge, new strings, and a quick repair to the soundboard crack, and get it back in plenty of time. Otherwise, I can always test another cello out and use that!

I find that my initial 'no I should upgrade the quality/level of the cello I'm using' is ebbing to 'something equivalent in a different shape would be just fine'. Which is a good thing, really, because it's assuaging a lot of the 'OMG so expensive where will I find the money now!' jitters I'm having. I'm interested to hear what the luthier will have to say about the mystery cello, too.

~
* The original post at Owls' Court (this is condensed from a longer, more general post)
* Owls' Court: the main journal
~

Quick Post-Trip Update

Hullo world; we are back safe and sound. I have much cello news to jot down, but it will have to wait until Monday, most likely. Other than that: lovely trip, am proud of the boy in general for behaving very well, loved seeing the parental units. We got a bike trailer. The car trunk has been officially dubbed The Trunk of Extended Holding, because there is no way it could possibly have held all our bags, the bike trailer, a box with a printer inside it, assorted things we bought there (like a bike helmet for the boy and a couple of toys to be put away for Yule), and a cello.

Did I say a cello? I did, didn't I. Oops.

Okay, all you get until I have the proper time to post is this: No, I did not buy one of the two 7/8 Jay Haides I tried out at The Soundpost, although they were lovely and smooth and dreadfully easy to play and had nicely balanced tone throughout the complete range, especially the second one. And the staff were equally wonderful and made me feel very welcome. No, I came home with a turn of the century German-made one instead.

That's all the explanation you get till early next week. Maybe sooner, if I have the time. Muah-hah-hah.

Another 7/8 Chapter Ends

We returned the 7/8 cello Number 3 to the luthier this past Saturday morning. "And?" he said. "Almost," I said. "Almost, but not quite." I explained that the two-week home trial had confirmed that the 7/8 size is indeed perfect for me, but that this particular instrument just didn't have that certain something that clicked and made it mine. He asked if there was anything particular, in order to avoid it when selecting another for me to test, and I shook my head; there wasn't anything specifically wrong. It just didn't grab me and say, 'You cannot part with me.' I like the tone, the overtones, the balance, the construction, the feel under my fingers, everything; it's just not this one that I need. He has another 7/8 in his Laval workshop and will bring it in for me, but I'm on holiday the last two weeks of July and he's closed the first two weeks of August, so we'll pick up again then. In the meantime there's the two shops in Toronto, and the Scarlatti 7/8 Number 2 to take home for a test, and I'll think about the one in Alaska too.

My office feels much bigger with only one cello in it. I tried playing my 4/4 the other day and, as I was afraid, it feels clunky to me now. I so didn’t want this to happen.

(Condensed and combined from two posts at Owls' Court.)

I'll See Your 'Damn' And Raise You An 'Oh Hell'

Last night I pulled out the Vivaldi double concerto and looked it over. I was working on it a few months ago, and I thought that I'd try it out on the 7/8.

Today I played the first movement on my cello first. Then I took the 7/8 out (Number 3 for those of you with scorecards) and played it again.

Oh, hell.

See, the size of the 7/8 actually does make a difference. It's finally coalescing. My arms don't have to be out so far in front of me to play; the energy and motion used in bowing is more efficient when I'm using the 7/8. It's all closer to the body and it's easier to use gravity as an aid instead of struggling against it.

Okay, fine. I've proven that to myself. The 7/8 is a better size for me.

The sound was nicer too, but again, that may just be the newer strings.

And finally, I don't feel like the 7/8 is going to twist or angle oddly under my bow. I don't have to brace it as much as when I play the 4/4. It feels sturdier in just about every way.

The finish of Number 3 is even growing on me.

I have done my damnedest not to get attached, and to be as objective as possible. I think I've finally proven to myself that the size is important. I'm still not completely convinced about this 7/8 being The One!!1!, but I am convinced about the size. I'd like to try a couple more. I'll sign the Number Two (AKA the Scarlatti) out from Wilder & Davis in early August. It may be a thousand dollars more, but it's worth a listen at home. There's a 7/8 four grades higher than Numbers 1 and 3 for sale through a private luthier in Alaska too (an AE405, if anyone's dying of curiosity) that come with the hard case I want and a bow three times better than the one that comes with this SE/VC100. It's had finessing work done on it (including a carbon fibre endpin! and a new French style bridge!) and is $1,100 cheaper than the list price (and the basic list price doesn't include the upgraded bow or the bonus hard case, only a mid-range bow and a soft case). Of course I'd have to order it on trial, and I'd have ten days to decide at home if I liked it or not. If I don't, I'd ship it back and absorb the shipping cost ($100 each way, which sounds like a lot but is cheap for this kind fo thing, I assure you, wow!). But here's the kicker: the cost of this several-notches-higher 7/8 with upgraded bow and hard case is only five hundred dollars more than good old Number 3 here, with its soft case and bottom of the line bow. If I added the $500 hard case to the cost of the VC100 here, I'd be looking at $2,000 anyway. Normally I am violently opposed to buying instruments over the internet, but the numbers are very persuasive, the luthier is reputable, many people have dealt with her among the online community and they say nothing but good things. I've chatted with her in forums and on bulletin boards on occasion and she's honest.

It's an option. And I'm serious enough about this that investing $200 in a cello I might not keep is acceptable, because the payoff could be wonderful. And if it ends up being only as good as the VC100, well, I've still snagged myself a deal. I find myself measuring things in freelance work now: a new printer is one evaluation, a new computer will be five, and so forth. So if I tried this and wasn't happy with the cello I'd only have invested two evaluations in it.

Not that this is a done deal; I want to visit The Sound Post while we're in Toronto to play some of their stock, and while we're there I may as well swing past Remenyi as well. I have all summer to do this.

(Originally published at Owls' Court.)

Damn

So what does one do when one had a headache?

One plays the cello,of course! After all, this 7/8 goes back on Saturday and I'm not going to have much more opportunity to play it. I haven't touched it since the second-to-last rehearsal with orchestra. So I hauled it out to play through some stuff.

Wow, the Breval sonata in C never sounded so good. Seriously.

Also? While playing 'Ana Ng' and 'Experimental Film' I discovered this instrument's overtones. Helloooo, lovely overtones. You make TMBG basslines sound like high art.

Again, I don't know how much of this has to do with the shiny-new! effect, or the newer strings, or what. But it certainly sounded pretty. And I'm starting to feel how much easier it is to play around the slightly smaller body of the 7/8.

It's still going back on Saturday; I can't buy it right now, and I'd still be very on the fence about it if I could. But these are things to make note of.

(Originally posted at Owls' Court.)

The State of Autumn

Pretty wiped, actually. Very languid. Not much energy at all. I think it's partially due to the weather (How much more damp can it get? Can it just rain properly, already? It feels like we're walking through mist all the time, the air is so wet.), partially due to the intense rehearsals and lack of sleep after them (I'm doing the skating through light sleep cycles thing and waking up a lot these days), and partially due to something I haven't quite figured out yet. Plus there's that kid who lives here who gets cranky in high heat or humidity, loses his appetite, and sleeps abysmally. He's been getting up at five-thirty in the morning, and didn't nap at all yesterday.

We went out to the luthier this morning and I picked up the new 7/8 cello he received for a two week home trial. (I have to take it back on my birthday. How depressing is that?) I played it for half an hour straight after the boy went down for his nap, and, well, I don't know. I liked the first one better; I think it sounded a bit more mellow. (Oh, how I wish I'd had the idea of recording them when I tried it back in May!) The colour on this one is more orangey-red, kind of a deeper version of the one I have now. I preferred the brown-amber of the first one. It has nice resonance, and is easy to play, and feels all right under my fingertips. I haven't tried the bow yet; I used my own. I'm just not completely in love with it the way I was with the first one. I am, however, completely in love with the soft case it comes with (three handles, including a double handle on the side to carry it like a suitcase! Lots of pockets! Padded straps! So well padded overall that it almost stands up on its own! Extra padding around the bridge! And I got to see an Eastman hard case, the one with wheels, which was so light I thought I was dreaming. It too had multiple handles. I was having a geeky day, evidently, to be so impressed by multiple handles. I also got to see the finish in person, which was important, because all the photos I've seen of them made me very wary, as the finish is pebbled and looks almost iridescent. This one was blue, and while I'd prefer a deep green (but they don't make a darker one) or an ivory or black, I could live with the blue if I had to. Mind you, if I'm going to drop $500 on a hard case, I'll darn well get them to order the colour I want, thanks. (Oooh! The Z-tek Deluxe model is now available in dark emerald green! Hmm. Duly noted.)

It feels a tiny bit bigger than the last one, too. But then, I didn't switch between the 7/8 and my full-sized cello when I played it, like I did the last time. I checked the windings: it's strung with a Helicore C and G, and Larsen D and A strings. It has a really deeply arched back, too.

The A doesn't blend as well as the last one did. But that's something that can be adjusted by poking the soundpost. It's certainly resonant. I'll post more notes as I play with it over the next couple of weeks.

People requested pictures. Here's a shot of the two cellos side by side, so you can see the difference in size and proportion.



(Slightly condensed from the original post at Owls' Court.)

Ill-Timed

Having finished my work assignment by noon, then having handled a bunch of lingering accounting stuff, I read a book and then sat down to mess about with the cello.

I have been in the mood to go back and explore a Rudolph Matz suite I bought ages ago called Lights and Shadows. Except I can't find it anywhere. And I realised as I searched for it again today that I hadn't seen it since I packed the last apartment. I have concluded that it seems to have mysteriously vanished between there and here, along with my copy of the sheet music for "May It Be" (which isn't anywhere near as great a loss). I haven't misplaced anything else, only those two pieces.

So since I worked on the musical stuff for the concert last night, today I played some Bach suites instead, then fiddled around with some old band stuff for the heck of it. I came up with a new fingering for the miniature bass-drum duet-solo-thingy in "Till My Head Falls Off" and wondered why I hadn't thought of it before because it was so blindingly obvious. I worked on "J'veux pas viellir" and cursed the freaking solo again. There's an ugly bit that no matter what I do, it doesn't sound good. But apart from that bit I polished the delivery and decided that should I ever play this again in performance, I'm making it completely legato, original be damned. (Heck, I've already messed with it by transposing and rewriting parts of it, why not make the cheerful heresy complete?) I think something a lot more flowing and resonant would sound better than the choppy staccato stuff. Staying close to the original is boring anyway (says the girl who hacked and hacked and hacked at "The Bonny Swans" and eventually settled on something that kind of sort of sounded like something Loreena McKennitt might have done in a studio once, and whose compatriots in musical crime gave songs such as "First We Take Manhattan" and "Insensitive" drastic makeovers).

But through it all, there was a part of my mind today that was saying, "Hey, you know, this instrument has really mellowed over the past couple of years. I really enjoy this sound."

And then I found the hole.

The seam between the back and the rib between the upper and lower bouts on the right side is starting to separate. It's not a real hole yet, but it will be as the gap continues to widen. At the moment there a millimetre of space between the two, held together with bits of varnish.

Wow, is this ever a bad, bad time for this to happen.

Fixing this will cost as much as, or possibly more than, that lateral move to the 7/8. It's the same position our station wagon was in: the repairs it needed would cost more than the value of the vehicle itself. Repairing this cello won't increase its value, so it's like sinking money into a black hole when I could be putting the capital towards the new cello instead. Since I haven't the money now to replace it, nor is the 7/8 I wanted currently available, I just have to be extra super obsessively careful with this one until the concert is over. And pray a lot.

(Originally posted on Owls' Court.)

Canada Day Concert!

This is your two-week warning, faithful orchestra groupies. July 1 is coming up, which means that the annual Canada Day concert presented by the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra is also nigh!

On Tuesday July 1 the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra will be giving a free (yes, free!) concert as part of the overall Canada Day celebrations in conjunction with Pointe-Claire Village. We do this every year, and it’s always terrific fun.

This year’s programme features:

Symphony no. 3 - Mozart
Overture to The Marriage of Figaro - Mozart
Symphony no. 32 - Mozart
Selections from South Pacific - Richard Rodgers
Selections from My Fair Lady - Frederick Loewe
Selections from The Sound of Music - Richard Rodgers

The concert begins at 20h00. As always, it is being presented at St-Joachim church in Pointe-Claire Village, located right on the waterfront at 2 Ste-Anne Street, a block and a half south of Lakeshore Road. The 211 bus from Lionel-Groulx metro drops you right at the corner of Sainte-Anne and Lakeshore. Here’s a map to give you a general idea. I usually encourage those facing public transport to get together and coax a vehicle-enabled friend along by offering to buy them an ice cream or something. It works nicely, and it’s fun to go with a group. And hey, you can’t beat the price. Be aware that if you’re driving, parking will be at a premium because of the whole Canada Day festivities thing going on. Give yourself extra time to find a parking place and walk to the church, which will be packed with people.

Free classical music! Soul-enriching culture! And as an enticing bonus, the fireworks are scheduled for ten PM, right after we finish, and the church steps are a glorious spot from which to watch them.

Write it on your calendar, tell all your friends and family members! The more the merrier!

(Originally posted on Owls' Court.)

...

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.)