Concert approaching...

My flute group is playing for a local arts festival on June 21. We're sort of ready. I am playing two pieces on cello: Haydn's London Trios, just the first trio (which has 3 movements), and The Little Red Monkey, a contemporary frolic, in which I play the bouncy baseline. I am somewhat sort of ready, but really need to find time to practice in the sort of three weeks we have remaining until the concert (especially the 3rd movement of the Haydn, which is vivace).

Last year when we played this event, there were gusts of wind that it blew the notes back into my flute. And, even clustered in a tight horseshoe shape, we had a hard time hearing each other. Why do we keep doing this? It's fun. We don't really attract huge crowds because there are three stages in operation at any one time, as well as tents full of artists and artisans, children's activities, and food, but I enjoy being part of it.

Time for practicing

I've been having a hard time finding time to practice the last couple of weeks. I know it's best to practice every day, even if only for 20 minutes, than to skip a day, or three, and try to make it up in a marathon practice session, but it has been hard finding even those 20 minutes.

Yesterday, I managed an hour and a half, but was so tired in the beginning (from lack of practicing) that it took 20 minutes just to warm up.

We have been playing Haydn's London Trios in our quartet though, so I have played through them several times, if imperfectly. How does a quartet play a trio, you might ask? Well, one night, the flutist was not able to come, so we were, in fact, a trio; and the second night, tonight, the violist played the cello part (which he had transposed for viola) with me, which seems to work fine. But, a little practicing would help me a lot.

I had asked the violist to transpose the part because I wanted, sometimes, to play flute and have him take the cello part, but, you know, as hard as it is to play the cello, it's harder not to.

Marcello Sonata

I've been looking forward to working on the Marcello sonata for a long time.

My favorite flute piece when I was in high school was a Marcello Sonata in F. I lost track of this sonata when I stopped playing the flute regularly, and, though bits of the piece would come back to me at odd moments, I couldn't remember enough to track it down.

Then, one day, I walked into my flute lesson a little early and heard a friend in her lesson, playing the piece. I recognized it immediately and went out and bought the sheet music, so happy to play it again. (I have since transcribed it for both woodwind/cello quartet and string quartet, but we have not played it yet in either group.)

The Marcello cello sonata is structurally very similar to the flute sonata. (Actually Marcello's other flute sonatas are all kind of similar too.) I tried the cello sonata recently and was disappointed by it. I searched Youtube, looking for a good version of it, to inspire me, but to no avail. (I couldn't find my Suzuki CD.)

We worked on it in my lesson this morning though, and wow, my cello teacher transformed what I thought was a bland piece into a gorgeous one. I was so relieved, to have my regard for Marcello restored. Hopefully, I can do the piece justice.

Here is a version of the flute sonata in F, from the Wikipedia page on Marcello:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benedetto_Marcello

It was the festive second movement that I most remembered fragments of, though not quite at that speed. I do love the first movement too, and the fourth is not bad either.

Haydn's London Trios

For those not familiar with Haydn's London Trios, here are performances of the first and third (of four) trios by Cesar Peredo, Javier Rodriguez, and Marco Oiveros. The cello seems subdued in this, at least compared to when I played it (on flute) with another flute and cello. Our cellist was our most accomplished player, and he played so vibrantly that I felt like I was playing in a "cello forest." I liked it that way.

Haydn, London Trio no. 1.



Haydn, London Trio no. 3.

Flute as Cello

A few years ago, I played Haydn's London Trios (2 flutes and cello) as first flute, with another flutist and a cellist. I love these trios (especially playing with the cellist, who was very good, despite not having changed his strings in 30 years. Well, ok, that part annoyed me, but my hints that his tone might be even better if he bought new strings fell on deaf ears).

I am working on the cello parts now, hoping to play the trios with the flute quartet (all flutes). I play both flute and cello in the group, but have not played cello with them all winter, because sometimes it is just easier to leave my big bulky instrument at home and take only a flute.

So, I found a version of the London Trios for 2 C flutes, alto flute and bass flute. Alto and bass play essentially the same part, the cello part. We have an alto flute in our quartet, but no bass flute, so, right now, I am playing the bass flute part on my C flute, which makes it an octave higher than it should be, but it sounds fine. I am also enjoying doubling the alto, I who generally prefer not to play doubled parts.

Oddly enough, the flute/alto flute is a reasonable substitute for the cello. It is also helpful in terms of reminding me of the tempos, the rhythms, etc., and so my playing of the music on my cello is benefiting. Eventually, the weather will warm up, and I will bring my cello to play with the group. I will still be doubling the alto flute, but, this way, all four of us get to play these lovely pieces, and it can be comforting to hear someone else playing the same part.

The cello parts are both relatively easy and interesting, and I love the flute parts; and it is fun playing a piece that I know the other parts to. Sometimes, in sightreading unfamiliar music with the other flute quartet (flute/violin/viola/cello), I am so intent on my part that I can't appreciate the others (or even recognize the piece from the upper parts), so I am enjoying this.

Slow month, blogwise

This has been my slowest month, postwise, since I started this blog. This will be my ninth post this month, much fewer than usual. It's not that I don't have anything to say; it's just that I have no time to say it. Or maybe that I have nothing bloggable to say.

On the other hand, according to Sitemeter, this shortest month is my highest month ever, in terms of people dropping in to read what I have to say. Perhaps there's a strategy there. Thanks for reading!

A quick update on my musical activities: I have a cello recital coming up soon. My good friend and violinist Laura is playing piano for me and coaching me, and I thank her!

My flute performance at church went well (the one where I slept through the rehearsal). I have another flute performance at another church (my own) on Sunday. This time, I am accompanying the choir, which I love to do, but I have not gotten all the entrances down yet. There is a final rehearsal just before the performance, when, I am sure, everything will fall into place. We have a wonderful conductor, and I need to rely more on him instead of my thus-far-ineffective combination of watching him, the vocal line, the flute line, and counting. (I don't have separate flute music for this, so am reading off the vocal score.) Going with the flow is the best option for this piece, about caring about the person whose hand you take at church.

There is a women's fiddle session on Saturday. I enjoy these because we are working on a limited number of tunes, we allow sheet music, and we generally play slower than with the larger group. It gives me a chance to try and work out some appropriate cello lines, though I never have enough time.

I need to practice! But, first, back to work....

Sunday's Performances

Yesterday was a busy day.

In the morning, from about 9:30 to 11:30, the fiddlers played along the route of the Cape Cod Marathon, to encourage the runners on. In the photo, you can see my chair and cello (I used my old cello for this event because it was cold and I wanted to make sure nothing happened to my good cello before the afternoon concert). The runner at the far right is applauding our efforts, as many of the runners did.

Long ago, I used to run what was then called the Bonne Bell women's 10K in Boston, and it was energizing to run past MIT dorms, in particular, because the students would play loud rock music on their radios for us. I hope the fiddle music helped yesterday's runners. There were several other musical groups along yesterday's route. Too bad there are no college dorms.

Another cello blogger (CelloGirl) wrote recently about the good players sitting toward the front in an orchestra, and it is kind of the same with the fiddlers. Although there is no "assigned seating" in fiddling, some of us who doubt our playing ability tend to stand or sit in the back. This can be awkward for me when most of the others are standing. A couple of times, a fiddler stepped, obliviously, on my end pin, and I had to pull my cello to safety. Toward the end of the two-hour gig, though, we took a little break and when we reassembled, the rest of the fiddlers stood behind the cello. What an improvement for me! I could hear so much better and it is possible I played better. And I didn't have to fear for the safety of my cello. I am going to have to try this deliberately sometime.

For our efforts, we received official Cape Cod Marathon Volunteer jackets. Very nice jackets! The marathon was sponsored by Dunkin' Donuts. Much better to have the jacket than the donuts.


To keep my hands warm I wore some polar fleece practice gloves (Wristies) that I bought at the violin shop where I work occasionally. They kept most of my hand warm. The fingers were still a little cool, but it was a great improvement over playing with bare hands. (Nice for typing in an unheated room, too.)

My Wristie (also demonstrating that the leaves are still green here, in late October).

After the marathon, I raced home to change clothes from fiddler blue and purple to church-appropriate black, switch cellos, and grab my music. I got to the church in time for their pre-concert potluck lunch. Good thing, too, as I was hungry.

The concert started at 1 pm and lasted about an hour. My early music group played in most of the pieces, either as an instrumental group with the organist, or supporting the choir. I played both cello and flute. The choir sang a few hymns on their own, so we did have an occasional break. I felt I played the Corelli sonata well (the one I had been focusing on), all things considered, but there were a few flubs in this piece, probably caused by not rehearsing enough with the organist. Someone did come up to me afterward and say, "You were really good." (I take the you to mean our instrumental group, rather than me alone.) So, some level of success here. We (the early music group) will keep these pieces in our repertoire and continue to improve them. Our final piece went very well, ending on a happy note.

I have no photos of our church concert, but it was videotaped for local cable access television. It might be a good idea for us to watch it, though that will take a bit of courage.

Three Concerts

I have been overwhelmed with work lately, and have not had as much time as I would like for practicing, especially considering I have three concerts looming in the near future.

On October 28, several members of the early music group (Fritz, Laura, and I) will play with our friend Marion, an organist, at her church as part of a concert to raise money for organ repairs. Laura plays violin, beautifully. Fritz plays many instruments, but will be confined to violin and viola for this concert. :-) We'll have three instrumental pieces (currently, we think they will be sonatas by Boismortier, Corelli, and Falconiero). I'll play flute in the Boismortier piece and cello in the other two. I will also play flute to accompany the choir for "Shall We Gather at the River," and with Fritz and Laura on another five hymns. The music is all quite playable, but I want to play it well. This is, after all, a fundraiser!

On November 4, the flute choir plans to play for the nursing home which so generously gives us a space to rehearse every week. I may play cello on one piece (Joplin's "The Entertainer"), but so far I've been doubling the first flute, too lazy to haul my cello to flute choir rehearsal for only one piece. The rest of the pieces are, of course, with flute.

Finally, I'll give a recital of recent Suzuki pieces, tunes from Scottish fiddle camp, and, with members of the early music group, one or two ensemble pieces we have been working on. The audience will be small, so this is mostly a wine and cheese party, with music. The date for this is undetermined. I thought it would be in October, but I don't have another lesson until the 15th. I actually slept through my lesson this week. My teacher called, waking me at 11:30 am to ask me why I hadn't shown up at my 11 am lesson. 11:30! I have been working around the clock, but didn't realize I was that tired--to sleep through a cello lesson!

None of this is too difficult, but there is a lot of it! I'd better get back to work so I can get back to practicing.

P.S. I forgot the fiddle events! There is a bluegrass festival my fiddle group is playing in this coming Sunday. It is in Rhode Island, at least an hour from here, so I haven't decided whether to go or not, but it sounds like fun. We'll see. There is also a fiddle performance on Saturday the 13th, the Rachel Carson dinner at my church, another fundraiser, and fiddling along the path of the Cape Cod Marathon on October 28 (the morning of the other church fundraiser). I do enjoy the latter two annual events and will attend those.

Labor Day Weekend Concert report

We had an excellent time at the Labor Day weekend concert on Saturday. Both the Flute Choir and the Early Music group felt we played our best, triumphantly sailing through the tricky parts that had derailed us not long ago. The two groups alternated playing for about three hours, a long stretch, particularly for those of us who played in both groups, but we enjoyed it immensely. Our fingers a little sore, we're both going to take this week off from rehearsals!


The Early Music group. I seem to be smiling. My husband is taping our performance. I haven't looked at it yet.


A close-up of me, perhaps not the most flattering shot, but reflecting the intensity of the moment, both listening to others and concentrating on my own music. Or perhaps, fear. :-)


The Flute Choir. You can see some of the art displays to the side. There are six flutists; one is hidden in this photo.

The view from the stage. This was taken while we weren't playing of course, so no one is looking at us. :-)


The "after-concert" concert: The Cape Symphony has just finished playing the national anthem here. Seven thousand was the predicted attendance. I don't know how many came, nor how many visited the art/music building.


Fireworks ended the symphony performance--just like the 4th on the Esplanade! Except, as one flutist put it, "freezing cold."


The next day we dined out at this lovely restaurant, sitting in the vined window on the right. The trumpet vine is over 100 years old. The food was delicious, and the company stimulating.

And still one more day of the Labor Day weekend remains. We're planning a family cookout today. I am also working much of the day, but even that is relaxing. Hope you are having a great weekend!

Labor Day Weekend Concert

I bought this music on eBay when I first started the cello. It was in a collection of "easy music for beginning cellists." It is almost entirely first position, but does have its little challenges and is fun to play, and I am happy to finally have the opportunity to perform it!

Saturday, tomorrow, is our big concert of the summer. The Symphony is performing a Pops concert at the Fairgrounds at 7 pm to crowds estimated to number over 7,000, and we're part of the background music for the afternoon's festivities that lead up to the big concert. Both my flute choir and my early music group are playing, alternating half-hour segments for over two hours. (Three of us play in both groups.)

We've been performing at this event for the last six years. The first few years we played outside in a tranquil garden setting (as people walked past, eager to set up their chairs for the Pops), but the last couple of years have been inside an airport-hanger sort of a building, with the artists, mostly painters, showing their art and demonstrating portrait painting and other techniques. It has been a nice blend of music and art, and people have lingered longer to listen.

This year they have doubled the number of artists, adding a myriad of craftspeople and children's activities: jewelry-makers, ceramicists, photographers, and visual artists, all demonstrating their crafts, along with puppet shows, face painters, and other children's activities. It might be a little crowded. Hopefully we will be heard above the din. More important is that we hear each other.

We have been given us a stage, though, and microphones, so in a sense we are being elevated. :-) I am a little nervous; I should have practiced more. But both groups are sounding good. As long as we can hear each other, we should be fine. There is a certain comfort in being background music--no one is listening to your every note; but, on the other hand, we do want people to hear our delightful music that we have worked on for months! :-)

The Arts Festival....so far

It was a beautiful day, there were lots of festival attendees, artists, and musicians filling up the library green, I played my "break" on Old Joe Clark very well, though stumbled a little at the end when I thought to myself, "this is going very well."

I played 2 As and 2 Bs (twice through the first part and twice through the second part, for those not familiar with fiddling jargon). About 35 seconds, total. When I finished the 2 As, I thought, "Did I play one A or two As?" So insecure.

But, as someone said afterwards, it really doesn't matter--everyone else is just accompanying until you finish. I haven't listened to the recording yet, but I felt it was very much in tune.

The flute choir performance was another matter entirely. I have never played so badly. And I was not the only one. There was a wind which occasionally moved pages of sheet music, but more often just sucks the sound out of the flute. Or maybe I was feeling really good about knowing this music, and didn't practice the last day or two. I worked on another selection of music, for another concert. Not a good idea.

The audience was friendly though, and it was still enjoyable. Not quite as enjoyable as playing well. I stayed to watch about four other groups, mostly people I knew, on way or another (ex-fiddle teachers, other people who play in Town Band), so it felt like a community of music. Though I ran into a cellist-friend today, there were no other playing cellists. Maybe next year.

Tomorrow, I will return to the Arts Festival with an armload or two of violins, violas, and cellos for the instrument petting zoo, and try to encourage some cellists for future events.

Memorization, Again

I gave my teacher a printout of the article on memory that Erin suggested a while back about why it is not necessary to memorize music. My teacher just laughed. This is not an article she is even vaguely interested in reading.

I've been grumbling about having to perform Suzuki book recitals (all the pieces in the book) from memory. I think I am focusing too much on memory and not enough on technique, intonation, and expression. Either I need to improve my memorizing skills or I need to focus less on memorization.

On the whole, I believe in memorization. I like having a repertoire at my fingertips; and I like performing fiddle tunes, and you can't use sheet music for that. But memory doesn't come easily to me. It requires a lot of analysis and repetition. Then, I tend to be thrown off a bit when I play from memory with others, especially the fiddlers when, sometimes, everyone is playing a slightly different version of the tune.

I tried an experiment a week or two ago. I memorized a fiddle tune, Coleraine, on the flute, to compare the memory process and to see whether it would help or hinder learning the tune on the cello. I memorized it easily the first day, forgot it by the next day, re-memorized it and solidified it over the following few days, and can now play it well. I had never memorized anything on the flute, and it seems to be a very different process than memorizing on a string instrument. When I memorize a fiddle tune on fiddle or cello, I tend to visualize the fingerboard as a grid and think about finger placements on the grid. Most fiddle music on the fiddle is in first position, requiring no shifting, so this works well. Most fiddle music on the cello does require shifting, so it is a little different process. I think about where the shifts are, the bowings, where there is a scale fragment, a fifth, an arpeggio, etc.

With the flute, I found I thought more about note names. No shifts or bowings to worry about, and the pitches are more dependable. It also helped that I could play the tune on the flute--no learning needed, only memory work.

Then I switched to the cello to see if I could play the tune on the cello just from my knowledge of it on the flute. To some degree I could. Curiously I forgot the G#'s that I had focused on in the flute version. Just knowing the tune better helped a lot, though.

Why go through this, you might ask? Well, I have been thinking of memorizing a few fiddle tunes on the flute so I can play flute with the fiddlers on occasion. I have 4 or 5 tunes memorized on the flute now, and have learned several of these on the cello. I think the flute memory work is helpful to memorizing on the cello. At least it does not seem to be detrimental.

As for Suzuki music, I think I will change my focus a little. Instead of memorizing first, polishing second (the Suzuki way), I will concentrate on the learning, intonation, and polishing. I will continue to memorize, and to analyze the music in preparation for memory, but will try not to make memory the major focus of my work. It is not easy to make this transition, but I will try.

Good-bye to Town Band

Town Band rehearsals started last Thursday, and I didn't go. This would have been my 10th year playing flute in Town Band, but I have decided to take a break.

Town Band is fairly demanding. There are 10 weeks of rehearsals, followed by 10 weeks of public performances, outside, at the band shell on the harborside. We play 14 different pieces a night, so have a huge collection of music to learn. We play each piece twice a year, once (sometimes more) in rehearsal and once in performance, but after you have been in Town Band for a few years, you do get to know the music. It is hard to practice 14 pieces a week and do them any justice. I could only manage a few each week. Two to six new pieces are introduced each year, but there are many old standards, like John Philip Souza's "Washington Post March." Even I remembered that from high school.

I started Town Band when I could barely play the music, in part to learn to play better. I had been directing/producing a children's music/art TV show for the local cable station, and I felt that I had done my part to promote music and the arts, that it would be OK if I used Town Band to teach myself how to play the flute. We have had as many as 20 flutes in the 100+ member band, so my wrong notes, or inadequate playing of some passages, did not seem to create any problems. One philosophy of Town Band is always play out, even if you make a mistake. You learn from it. Even with 20 flutes, the dozen trumpets tend to drown us out, so, for a flutist, Town Band remains somewhat of an individual journey, even in a sea of musicians.

Town Band is an intergenerational band, and I enjoyed that aspect of it. There are kids who just completed 6th grade, there are high school and college students, there are 70 and 80-year-olds, and there are people who have been in the band over 35 years. It welcomes adults (like me) just picking up their instruments after a lapse of 20 or 30 years. At one point our whole family was in the band: my son on saxophone, my daughter on clarinet one year, oboe the next. My husband serves as announcer. Each concert is taped by the cable television station, and shown year-round. I always meant to practice along with the tapes.

In the beginning, I was lost or inept much of the time. Struggling with my too-fast, too-high parts, I was helped greatly by sitting next to, and becoming friends with, two excellent adult flute players. I have improved considerably over the years, and I have learned a lot from the directors/conductors, and the other musicians.

But, honestly, band music is not my favorite type of music, and it is much too loud! I have developed a ringing in my ears and do not want it to get worse, so am giving up Town Band this year. Also, I am in two other ensembles that meet on Thursday, fiddles once or twice a month from 5-7 pm, and early music at 7 pm. In those ensembles I play the cello, sometimes flute too. So, while I will miss the camaraderie of Town Band, it was not such a hard decision to leave. I need to cut back on ensembles, and prefer the ones in which I play cello.

Playing at church

I played flute at church this morning, not mine, but another one where a friend plays the organ. I play with her perhaps a half-dozen times a year, sometimes flute, sometimes cello, sometimes both. I like this church, not for the sermons, but for their grateful acceptance of my musical offerings.

Today, I played the prelude and three hymns. One of the hymns had a flute descant, which I enjoyed playing in rehearsal, except for one measure, which had an awkward, and in my opinion, unattractive, run. I have to admit I forgot to practice for this event. We rehearsed briefly before the service, but I still had a problem with the measure.

When we played it, I managed to fumble not only the troublesome measure, but also the one before and after it. Nevertheless, the organist beamed at me when we were done, saying, "great job!" I mention this not to justify non-practicing, but simply to say sometimes (maybe often) no one notices when you blunder.

January 27 March on Washington

Appalled by Bush's plan to send 20,000 more troops to Iraq, I joined the antiwar protest in Washington DC this weekend. I liked the purpose of it--to ask Congress to represent the people who elected them, stand up to "the decider," and support the troops by bringing them home.

At 10 pm Friday night, my daughter and I boarded a bus sponsored by Cape Codders United for Peace and Justice; we arrived in Washington about 8 am. Our first stop was for a delicious buffet breakfast, generously provided by the Friends at the Quaker meeting house on Florida Ave., just around the corner from where my husband and I lived when we were first married.

I went to college in Washington DC, back in the 1960s, during the Vietnam war era, and my husband and I lived there for another four years, so I am not a stranger to anti-war protests, but I had not been to one in years.

After breakfast, my daughter and I walked down to the mall, a distance of maybe 3 miles. The streets seemed very quiet, though occasionally we would see another group of people from our bus. We walked by the White House. Only one demonstrator, a regular, was out front. There were other people about, but they were waiting in line for White House tours.

We got to the mall at about 11 am, just as the speeches were starting. We passed people selling buttons and giving away literature and signs. We picked a couple: "I voted for Peace" and "Impeach Cheney first and then Bush." We passed a large group of jovial people from Melbourne, FL, taking photos of themselves in front of their banner. Suddenly emotional, I started crying, in part because so many people had come from long distances, and in part because, I was afraid that there would not be enough people to really make a difference in U.S. foreign policy. I am not sure how many people came; the media said 100,000; the organizers, United for Peace and Justice, claim 500,000 (the size of the largests anti-Vietnam protests).

In many ways, this protest was a lot like the protests of the 60s. People felt fervently about the issues; signs and banners colorfully addressed the issues; celebrities and peace and justice leaders spoke; enthusiasm and solidarity were high.

But there were differences too. The 60s demonstrations were driven by college students and other young people. All age groups and types of people were represented at yesterday's protest, but gray-haired former protesters predominated. The current absence of a military draft might be a factor.

In the 60s, the demonstrations were against the president's policies, the congress, the military-industrial complex, chemical and other corporations, and--anyone over 30. The January 27 protest was directed against Bush and Cheney, and implied a faith that Congress would in fact act against the war. There were many, many organizations: veterans for peace, women for peace, Gold Star families for peace, people serving in the military for peace, kids for peace, socialists, unions, religious groups, nuclear disarmament groups, people concerned about global warming, people wanting Guantanamo closed, gay/bisexual/transgender groups, people wanting to end Israeli occupation of Palestine, local and national peace organizations, and more.

My daughter and I carried white roses, symbolizing "I will not be silent," a reference to resistance to Hitler's attempt to eradicate Jews and other "undesirables."

After the speeches, mostly compelling and energizing, we began the slow march around the Capitol building. I was worried about getting back to the Friends meeting house in time to catch the bus home, so after a time, we stepped out of the march and joined others sitting around the Capitol building reflecting pool. At this point I took out my flute (the cello would have been a bit unwieldy) and played a little. Just something I had to do.

We returned to the Friends Meeting house for a wonderful dinner of soup, salads, cheeses, breads, nuts, and cookies, and looked forward to boarding the bus home at 6:30 pm. At 6:15, we learned that our bus had broken down, .2 mile away from the meeting house. Lug nuts had become loose, and one of the rear wheels had fallen off or was about to fall off. Grateful that this had happened before we had started out, we settled down in various comfortably furnished rooms, and waited. We talked, we read, we slept, we ate, I worked on a project I had brought with me. The Quakers were great throughout it all, offering blankets, food, comfort, and support. Finally, at 2:45 am, we had a new bus, and we headed for home, arriving back on the Cape at noon.

Exhausted and aching from the walking and sitting on a bus so long, we we happy that we went. I hope we made a difference. I know there is much more to do.

Getting Started

I started the cello over 7 years ago as an adult. At the time, I was playing flute in an amateur adult flute choir, and my flute teacher, a violin teacher and a cello teacher brought their adult students together for an evening of music. Before that evening, I had not given a thought to the cello, but I realized that the rich tones of the cello made the high sqeaky flutes sound so much better. One of the cellists told me she had only been playing a year, and she sounded pretty good to me. I thought I might start the cello myself, to make the flute choir sound better.

About the same time, my family and I went to visit my sister and her three children. Two played violin, one played cello. My daughter, then about 10 years old, decided she wanted to play the cello, just like her cousin. So, my daughter and I started cello together. She no longer plays, but I am grateful for her early enthusiasm. I may not have had the courage to start a new instrument "all by myself."

I still play the flute, and I have since taken up fiddle and toy with mountain dulcimer, guitar, and piano, but the cello seems to define me.