Lifestyle of the Broke and the Tame-less

June 20, 2007 at 4:36 AM

Today, I had a very eye opening lesson with the renowned violinist Mr. Clayton Haslop. Some of you may know the name from his successful violin DVDs, Kreutzer for Violin Mastery. Also, you may have seen his name floating around on some of your favorite movie soundtracks such as on The Village.
Since he was in LA, he generously set aside time out of his busy schedule to meet a direct and high-spirited late-starter and give her tips on her playing since she could not afford any of his DVDs—me. I awoke at 7am, dressed, prepared my violin materials, and set out on the journey to Century City.
The bus in the morning was late, but I made it to the metrolink station five minutes before the train was set to arrive. I sat next to a talkative, yet nice, young lady who discussed every aspect of her life in the forty-five minute ride and then she directed me to the Santa Monica commuter. I enjoyed the first bus I rode which took me pass the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Walt Disney Concert Hall, and The Los Angeles Opera Company. Traffic seemed non-existent to my chagrin.
I arrived on Avenue of the Stars one hour early. The location where Mr. Haslop stayed was right across the street and there were no eating places in sight. So, I went to the Ralph’s Grocery Company and pretended like I was an anxious shopper, all the while my violin hung off my back and my purse started to make a dent in my shoulder.
But my excitement could not be cooled with these little trivialities. Even though I had no money and I began playing late, this great violinist was about to give me a lesson in the person. Even better, not one nerve in my body jiggled or shook nor did one butterfly flutter in my stomach. I stood confident in Ralph’s while holding the can of sliced pineapples that I contemplated buying.
I bought a little food and decided it was time to walk over to the hotel and wait in the lobby. By this time, the clock read 12:45pm. I looked over a couple of magazines and newspapers. I fiddled with my shirt and stared off in to space, hoping time would speed up. My patience waning, I phoned Mr. Haslop to let him know that I arrived. Two years ago, I would have embarrassed myself for trying to stall the momentous event.
Finally, Mr. Haslop exited the elevator with his violin in his left hand and coffee cup in the other. We introduced ourselves and I think I smiled just a little too bright for my own eyes because suddenly my self-reassurance became blurred. I asked what he was doing in LA in which he answered, “I am going in to the studio for Car Wash or something about cars. Or no, Rush Hour is the name.” I laughed and told him about the movie. “Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan are hilarious. You got to go see it.”
We went to the breakfast room. I took out my violin and warmed up while he went to get a stand. People came in occasionally and listened, but I just could not seem to get nervous. My bow did not shake when I drew it across the strings. Well, maybe a little but not as much as it used to.
Mr. Haslop came in and the lesson began. I played part of Kreutzer thirty-six. He stopped me and told me to go to number two. With my ego a tad bit bruised, I turned solemnly back thirty-four or so pages. I played through it and missed four notes. My sound pleased me greatly until Mr. Haslop pulled out his violin. My face dropped in anticipation of the coming disappointment. And sure enough, he drew a few down and up bows, his changes completely silent, while explaining that I used too much of my upper arm and my tone was uneven. He said, “You need to feel the connection between your bow and forearm—as if moving through the universe. Let the bone in your arm do the work, not your shoulder and fingers.”
He instructed me to play two again while thinking about what he just said. I pulled the bow, trying to feel the bond with my arm but my mind was on speed drive. “Slow down, Jasmine. You have to go slow and experience the journey in between, and then you will be able to go fast. But you have to know what is going on in the meantime.” The goal he wanted to achieve was for me to pull even bow strokes while my upper arm relaxed in complete peaceful quietness. He told me to inhale and exhale with my diaphragm and with every stroke. As much as I tried to sound like a tranquil flow through the universe, I could not help but feel I sounded more like a barefooted woman painfully struggling through a hot desert.
As I did a few more strokes, my noise began to turn into the quiet beaches of the Hawaiian Islands, not the flow of the universe, but hey, I’ll take Kauai any day. I was close.
We moved on to Kreutzer number six. He explained, “The pressure comes from the arm, you release and instantly relax, holding out the note and completely stopping before going on to the next note.” He demonstrated. I followed suit. Yes, something I could do. He said, “Good, but your fingers need to stay positioned over the finger board.” I could not keep my pinky over that board no matter how hard I tried. He gave me a finger placement exercise that he said might help. Play an open string half note and drop the first finger down also a half note all in one bow—go on to the next string. Drop all fingers, keeping them in their respective places over the fingerboard.
All throughout my lesson, he preached the significance of calmness and meditation. Which he said would be hard for me since I am so “high-spirited.” He suggested laying flat on the floor and doing breathing exercises before each practice session.
“You have to learn to slow down and enjoy the process,” he repeated.
Although I was not expecting to go to my lesson today playing like young Milestein or girl Paganini, I still gained so much knowledge in to my playing that I did not recognize before. You may remember a while back, I started a discussion called “Wah Wah Bow.” Mr. Haslop gave me many tips to fix that. He said the problem was “a trained reflex that you become used to doing as a beginner. You play a note quietly until you actually get the correct pitch and then soar in to it with confident bow speed and pressure, which creates this quiet/loud effect. As you transform into a more advanced musician, your brain conditions itself to continue that motion. So, just play a note out and evenly from the start. Do not hesitate.”
The three hour ride on the bus to and back was way worth the exertion. Even though I was broke and my spirit during the lesson could not be tamed, I gleamed so much; I wonder what I would learn from the DVDs. In fact, I implore everyone to give his program a try.
Do not forget to go see Rush Hour 3 and Ratatouille!

From Elizabeth Smith
Posted on June 20, 2007 at 1:28 PM

What a wonderful story! Thanks for posting it.

From Nate Robinson
Posted on June 20, 2007 at 5:46 PM

I do like his videos on youtube, he does seeme like he knows a lot about what he's doing.

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