July 22, 2005 at 9:59 PM

I'm in Santa Barbara! The weather is beautiful here all the time, and the University Center has a Jamba Juice and a huge bookstore! But on to musical matters.

I just finished my second viola lesson this morning with Helen Callus. She is simply one of the most amazing teachers I've had the privilege of studying with. She is extremely intuitive, intelligent, and unrelentlessly demanding, in a kind way, of her students' highest possible potential. One of her gifts is being able to find a metaphor for virtually everything--a vivid picture that is common to human experience and describes exactly what to do with the sound. I'm working mostly on the Bach 5th Suite, and we've spent a lot of time on the first note: how it immediately sets the tone of C, and furthermore C minor--it's something dark, old, and evoking death. The phrasing I'm doing just on that first note is to establish the sound solidly from the very beginning, then a swell in the middle, and a decay at the end. The picture Helen conjured up was that of a firework: the initial boom, then a blooming of light (or in this case sound), and a dying away.

We've also been able to discuss a lot more the main issue I'm having and how to work through it. She sees that right now I have two ways of playing--either I have a shopping list of things to do mechanically (flat hair, slow bow, arm weight, or whatever), or I forget all those things and play artistically, or with what she calls emotional intent. But I have a hard time seeing how the two link together and being able to play with intent without getting carried away and losing core and focus to the sound at points. Thus along my development there have been some bubbles in my technique that I now have to go back and really hone before I'm able to play with both intent and security. By far the most pressurized situations, probably for any musician, are recording sessions--those times when you're expected to do a take, nail everything perfectly, and squeeze in some originality and expression as well. It's like doing two things at once--driving a car and talking on the phone (which I am terrible at), and being there 100% for both things. Or (this one's strange, but it works for me) driving a car and comforting your friend in the front seat next to you who's just lost a loved one in a car accident. You have to be able to convey true empathy for your friend and give him your full attention while still being fully in control of the car so as not to cause another wreck.

I feel relieved and reassured that Helen is able to give voice to the things I'm struggling with in my playing right now. She's incredibly articulate and communicative equally as a performer and a teacher, and every lesson I feel like she uncovers more layers.

(By the way, I highly recommend her CD, "A Portrait of the Viola," featuring music by British women composers. It's available at amazon.)

July 22, 2005 at 9:59 PM

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