Music. I began my relationship at 5 and now I'm almost 25. Actually, it probably started in the womb. My father graduated with a degree in vocal performance and my mom was an amateur violinist and flutist. It didn't take much for my parents to give in when my older brother begged to play the violin as after watching a fiddler on Sesame Street. Like most younger siblings, I quickly became jealous and not long after began myself. I tried to quit numerous times, but with sage parenting practice, my mom held her ground. I remember being so angry and frustrated at times that I would cry on my violin as I either sawed away angrily or surrendered to the torture of another practice session while I bitterly thought about how everyone else my age was having fun. Early on I made a goal- to catch up to my brother and it wasn't long before I succeeded. Then middle school hit. It was a particularly difficult time for me and violin was one of the few forms of expression I had. I started have success with some competitions and had my first solo debut with a professional orchestra. When you are 13, getting a phone call informing you that you've won a competition with a cash prize of $1,000 feels like winning the lottery. And so I carried on, throwing myself into this craft, because it was my voice, because I wanted/needed to become independent post high school and, because it was what I knew.
When I was 15, a music professional that had known me for years asked if I would like to teach and began referring students to me. That was the beginning of my teaching career. I also did some gigging with my semi- serious string quartet that had weekly coachings with a MN Orchestra cellist after school. My proceeds covered clothing, toiletries and miscellaneous things like school fees and supplies. During my junior year of high school I began studying with my most beloved teacher, Mary Drane West. Mary was a God send and many times when I have thought about quitting I remember my time with Mary- how she inspired me, how she believed in me and how she managed to have me produce sounds that I didn't know were possible. Without Mary I would not be where I am today. She prepared me for conservatory auditions in a few short months. I had never studied the repertoire necessary to be admitted to these top notch schools. I returned home the summer after my freshman year excited to come back and see her, take lessons and as I shared this, a friend told me that Mary had passed away. It had been very quick. At the age of 97 she was still doing everything she always did, wearing her bright red lipstick, playing ping pong, going to performances, and teaching 40 students weekly until two months before her death. She lived a full, beautiful life and in many ways she is a role model for me. I have a pact with my best friend that we will never retire from life- someday we'll build an airplane in our basement, but we will never sit in a retirement center talking about the weather and birds. Mary is my perfect role model for never retiring, never settling for what should be if it's not what could be.
Doors kept opening and at each juncture of the path I questioned myself about whether it was really deep down what I wanted, and what was right, but at each step of the way I could confidently say, "this is where God has placed me now" and each time it became more apparent in retrospect.
During my post audition talk with my current teacher, he told me that I was born to be a musician- to play the violin. Apparently, I am a duck and violin is my water. Maybe there is some truth to this. It does run in the blood on one side of my family. I learned over the holidays that two of my great grandfathers were fiddlers and I've known for quite some time that I have a distant relative who ironically used to also study with Mary, compete in the same competitions as me and graduated from a top tier conservatory. I've had many teachers tell me I'm so talented and that this is what I have to do, because I'm gifted. They see potential and push, often so hard that we have a turbulent start. All the while, I question if this is really what I want, but I know what I want. I want to do this and so much more. The problem is that this is already so incredibly encompassing that there isn't room for more. People talk about the high points and how that keeps them going. It's true- it really does help, but for every mountain top there are hundreds of valleys. It takes every ounce of your intellect, heart, creative spring, spirit, will power, focus, discipline, physical energy to keep going. You will have to face and conquer a host of psychological battles that threaten to take away the product of your years of blood, sweat and tears. You cannot think about yourself, you cannot be nervous- it isn't an option. You must have confidence in yourself, in your technical and communicative abilities, you must project authentic ease, calm and warmth to your audience. You must remain graceful and calm under pressure handling every curve ball that will inevitably come with poise and perseverance. The battles are daily, hourly and the mountain tops weekly to bi- yearly.
Tonight as I listened to a colleague playing Bach's famous twenty minute Ciaconne, I asked myself if my someday plan of pursuing other professional skills and careers was another outworking of my common struggle with devaluation. My reasoning went like this- if my career struggles too much or I find that I can no longer endure this lifestyle and mountain top to valley ratio, or I become injured then I can always go back to school for these other things. Devaluation- yes, but I do truly want to do these things. I sometimes wonder where I would be today and where other natural inclinations and abilities would have taken me had I not be nurtured in a musical home from the cradle. Sometimes I just want to be normal- whatever that means, but really- be able to come home from work and have whole evenings to cook and relax -to not have this constant feeling of I- should- be- practicing- right- now and to not always be known as the girl who plays the violin. I want to have the time to explore other things I enjoy and can contribute to. It's a terrifying profession, especially for someone who struggles with being confident in her abilities, battles nervousness and seeks security. It's hard to find work, hard to keep it and financially very unstable. Being judged and criticized all the time, is just part of the job description and hard to stomach especially when just as much judging happens off the stage. To be successful or even survive one must learn how to navigate the political arena and constantly initiate. Sometimes I ask myself if all the good things are enough. I wonder if I can be satisfied feeding souls, inspiring people, bringing joy and healing others in a way that is often not readily apparent. I want to see the effects of what I do. I know deep down that God blesses us with gifts, that we are to be good stewards and use them, but this shouldn't be the defining factor in what a person chooses to do with their life.
As I drove home, my mind was busy, rolling with thoughts like a marble painting a page. (Writing this is my way of organizing those tangled roll patterns.) I parked my car I sat listening to the simple fiddle tune that was playing- I just had to hear the rest. I looked out my window and saw a beautiful sinuous tree with it's strong, but elegant branches, fanned out like veins and then I saw it as a large paint brush- silhouetted against a dark, silver gray sky and chimneys of a century gone by. It was so beautiful- all of it, the tree, the music, but mostly the music and really it was the music that caused me to see the tree this way. It was the music that caused me to see beyond the obvious. As I listened, I had this realization that music and I are now so tightly bound that I will always have a magical connection to it. It will always be more than just a large part of who I am. I love the expression, the communication and the nuance of sound. I love that it's my voice- at least one of them. I do love that the violin is the closest sounding instrument to the human voice. I love the color palette. I love that it can invoke so many emotions. I love that it comforts, inspires, educates and rejuvenates. I love that it's ambiguous, yet concrete. I love that it's like an adventure book- you can go anywhere. I love that it challenges every part of who you are personally and as a human. I love that it's spiritually significant and in so many more ways that we can only conjecture about. It's my song without words.
Josef Gingold (my musical grandfather) playing Song Without Words
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