Letting go

January 24, 2008 at 12:45 PM

I've been thinking about "letting go." Most modern uses of the term are meant to be positive: letting go of grief, of "baggage" of various sorts, of anger, of perfectionism, and of "yourself," whatever that really means.

But when I "let go" it often doesn't work.

Even though I'm supposed to be taking viola lessons, I went to my teacher (who plays both instruments) this week with the violin for help with the William Tell and Copland.

Although I have a pretty good handle on the fingerings and left hand for the fast 16th notes, I am using too much bow. That became glaringly apparent after only a measure or two. I thought had been using only a little bit already. No. "Think about an eighth of an inch." Hmm. It already sounds less frantic and out of control. A little more work on placing the string crossings carefully and it's cleaner, too. That's all fine for the pianissimo, but look, there's that big crescendo, followed by a big ff. "Yes, you can play louder and use more bow, but you don't have to carry the fortissimo there. You can let the brass really carry it."

This is true. Again, it sounds much better when I'm not trying to get as much volume as I can out of my somewhat muffled instrument.

But there are a few times in this piece, and in others, where it seems like it just calls for you, the player, to go all out. To "let go." To play fast and furious and fortissimo. To, for a while, just let your guard down and play. Without thinking about an eighth of an inch of bow and about the brass and on and on.

Sometimes, when I'm alone by myself, channeling the past, it can feel like those places get smaller and smaller until there are none left. There's always something to be "careful" about, to be tripped up, to be self-conscious about, to engage the left brain, to take up rather than to let go.

My teacher now is really nice, and encouraging. I realize that one reason this is so, is that she is very skilled at finding the nugget of good, the grain of promise, in what I did on my own during the week. Even if my playing in the lesson is not really where it could be yet (and it never is), she helps me feel that my effort, and my joy, and my letting go, weren't wasted. That's why I look forward to lessons every week.

From Tom Holzman
Posted on January 24, 2008 at 3:01 PM

Let 'er rip! That's what you want to do. Damn the consequences.

From Terez Mertes
Posted on January 24, 2008 at 7:09 PM

>Sometimes, when I'm alone by myself, channeling the past, it can feel like those places get smaller and smaller until there are none left. There's always something to be "careful" about, to be tripped up, to be self-conscious about, to engage the left brain, to take up rather than to let go.

Wow, profound words, useful on many levels!

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Letting go

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