The
feeling of
joy
and stress
is
all
too
real
scary
and
nerve
wracking
I think of a hill – insurmountable
yet strangely comforting in its earthy sound
resonating through the wood, the soundpost, the
bridge, the fi ngerboard. On stage, I am nervous
shaking even as the person before me performs
they’re usually a prodigy, born into a musical family
who teaches them the basics when they have barely
begun preschool, who provides their children with
free musical education instead of paying nearly
four hundred dollars per lesson plus a lot more,
a few thousand more for a simple piece of metal
and wood repurposed into an instrument
that makes sound, sound that has
long ago lost appreciation from
the younger generation, who
deems any piece on this metal
and wood as “classical music”, even
though I am aware of many, many pieces
composed during the twentieth century, fittingly
fit into a category called “twentieth century compo-
sitions”, yet these people refuse to believe that “old”
music is anything other than old, outdated, and decidedly
not pop music as if I have never played with a rock band
before. I have. Twice, in fact. Rock bands are never always
simply basses and violins as the sole string instruments.
By the way, this isn’t a violin – or a “bigger” violin, or an
“even bigger” violin. The number of times I have heard
these kinds of words is truly astonishing, even sorta
worrying. Has no one ever listened to an orch-
estra before? That’s concerning, but also
expected. Last time, no one listened
to us.