Violin Teacher

September 18, 2013 at 7:00 PM

I am a violin teacher. I'm here to make your dreams come true. Maybe you wanted to play in Carnegie Hall; okay, I can't promise you that. But I can promise you that you'll find that I can make a musician out of you, the kind that plays because you like the sound of it, because you enjoy expressing yourself, because it's a safe retreat from the rest of the world's cares and troubles. I can promise you that. But only if you trust me enough to follow me there.

I am a violin teacher. I'm here to show you how to succeed. But you're going to have to work for it. I might ride you if you don't practice, or if you don't follow instructions; I do have sharp spurs, and I know how to use them. But I'd prefer not to. Yes, you will have to put a lot of effort into taming this wild horse before you can call it your own, but there's joy to be found in the discipline, and if you're not careful, you might find yourself making ludicrous statements, like, "I like playing scales" or "The etude this week was fun." It's been known to happen. But only if you practice.

I am a violin teacher. I have lots of expectations. I expect you to ask questions if you have them. I expect you to at least try. I expect you to tell me if I can do anything else to better help you. If you don't communicate with me, I can only guess about what makes you tick, how you think, or what your likes and dislikes are. So go ahead, tell me your favorite color, your favorite composer, your favorite candy bar. (Go ahead: you earned it!)

I am a violin teacher. I'm very experienced. Trust me, whatever musical problems you struggle to overcome, I've been there myself. I will never give you any advice that I haven't had to follow myself a thousand times over. So, you never have reason to feel embarrassed about mistakes or put on the spot when you sight-read. Don't worry: I've been in your shoes. I'm not perfect, just a problem solver who's a little further down the road.

I am a violin teacher. I teach because I want to infect other people with my passion. I know, I'm a little obsessed, and sometimes it's all I talk about. So, I apologize if I get a little too excited about things like intonation, and the genius of Mozart, and Baker's magical rosin, and the superior qualities of wooden wind-up pendulum metronomes. But think about it: who else do I get to share my excitement with? You came to me for lessons, but I took you in because I need a few more string players in my life, and you're the perfect candidate. You hang out with me, and watch out: I'll make a violinist out of you.