May 24, 2005 at 8:02 PM

This week I had my ups and downs in practice, and during the first part of my lesson this morning, I felt slow and stupid, like my body feels when I try to walk under water. My left hand had a mind of its own, and nothing DM said seemed to change what that hand was doing, even though I thought I understood her.

DM's words concerning position and fingering made sense, of course, in an intellectual way. But deep inside, I was having a hard time understanding what it was I was supposed to do, and why I had to hold all of the fingers in position on the string, even though I was only trying to play one note. It seemed much easier to just place the finger needed to produce the note I wanted, for instance, just the ring finger when I wanted to play G# on the D string. Putting all of them in position felt awkward and uncomfortable, and I didn't see the point. I just wanted "Twinkle, Twinkle" to sound right.

She could see I wasn't getting it, but that I wanted to and was trying to, and so she patiently kept trying to explain things, frequently referring to "muscle memory". I understood what she meant by that, but my understanding wasn't translating into anything useful with the violin.

Finally, when we were both frustrated (although she was kind enough not to weigh me down with hers), I asked if she would play and just let me watch. So she sat down, and I stood over her, and she began to play the exercises she wanted me to do.

I watched DM's fingers closely as she tried to explain, and suddenly I understood. Keeping the fingers in position allows one to hit notes reliably. My keeping my fingers in position on the strings would help me memorize where those positions were relative to the violin and the other fingers.

As I watched even more closely, it came to me that the violinist's left hand performs a dance on the neck and strings. That dance defines the frequencies of the notes given voice by plucking the strings or bowing. Bowing is, no doubt, another, quite different, dance all its own.

As soon as this metaphor came to me, I relaxed. I love to dance, understand the process of learning a new dance, and being able to tap into that understanding allowed DM's explanations to become meaningful to me in a deep way. Muscle memory? Of course! All became clear and I saw my path before me.

Right now, for me, learning the violin is like learning to dance - it's all about position. And, as in dance, knowing the starting position and being able to return to it is of the first importance. DM had been focusing on position all along; I just hadn't accepted everything she had to say about it. When I was a child, I would have accepted her instructions much more readily.

Again it became obvious to me that to succeed at this, I must be as a child. So easy to do in some things, so hard in others. Not only must I have the playfulness of a child, I must also have a child's acceptance of my teacher's instruction. I needed, in fact, to let go of control, of my image of myself as someone with expertise. Not easy for an adult to do.

At the time, I wasn't able to voice my insight to DM in this coherent way. But I felt a resistance I didn't know I had just melt away. Maybe she could feel it, too. I think she could see that my eyes had been opened. She told me about how, when she first started teaching, she'd hand a student a book, violin, and bow, show them the left and right hand positions, and then not understand why they didn't just up and start playing. Finally, she realized her job was to break it all down into a sequence of tiny tasks her students could master, one at a time. Only then could she teach and her students learn.

Now that we weren't battling my hidden resistance, she could explain more to me and I could listen with acceptance and understanding. She suggested exercises I could do that would help me pin down the E position on the D string and the Bb position on the A string.

We learned a new song, "Baa Baa Black Sheep", and she promised "Ode to Joy" soon. Then it was over and she was on her way.

I'm exhausted, but from the emotional conflict I went through, not from playing the violin. I can see that I will be my biggest obstacle to learning.

Here on Violinist.Com, under the topic, "Practicing Well", Aleksandr Salamov says, " You must know what do you need to do...." Simple and seemingly obvious, but profound. Until today, I didn't even know I didn't know what I needed to do in order to learn to play the violin.

Now I know my next two tasks:

1. To learn to accept instruction like a child.
2. To learn the basic steps of the left-hand violin dance.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on May 24, 2005 at 8:40 PM

Deborah, I teach adult beginners, and it's great for me to read about learning violin from one adult beginner student's perspective. My students are right with you in what you find difficult. I like your insight into why we hold our fingers over (or on) the strings. I often tell my students that your fingers are like the little hammers poised over a string on the piano. The problem is that the younger ones have never seen a piano. They use electronic keyboards. A good student-teacher relationship is crucial for learning, and you sound like you and your teacher are a good match. I'm looking forward to reading your next blog entry.

From Evelyn Ray
Posted on May 25, 2005 at 1:52 AM

I think my best asset when I started was that I relied on my teacher completely. I'm a follower. It was very easy for me to be like a child. I don't question a thing...I just do. I wonder...but I just do. We now have a wonderful, trusting relationship. Eventually it all makes sense.

I will say that judging from horror stories I have read, I really lucked out. She is an excellent teacher. I could have been so easily led down a very bad path because of my willingness to just follow.

If you trust her, trust her.

From deborah mitchell
Posted on May 25, 2005 at 2:18 AM

Evelyn, my husband has that gift, too. Being a follower. I have always, as far back as I remember, been a questioner. Even if I had started violin at 5, I'd have needed to understand why I was doing what I was doing, just not about as many things as I do now.

But I do a good job of following leads in dancing, so I can do it here, too.

From Donna Clegg
Posted on May 27, 2005 at 3:06 PM

Your insight is indeed enjoyable to read. You have voiced many thoughts that I had when I began learning to play the violin 3 years ago. Hang in there. It will all come together eventually. I, too, still have dreadful practice days that I don't understand and disappoint me. They are fewer and further in between when I follow a consistant practice schedule. A few weeks of daily practice for at least an hour a day keep me sounding the best I possibly can at this point. That is often hard to accomplish for adults with many commitments in life. Keep writing - it is interesting to follow your progress.

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May 24, 2005 at 8:02 PM

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