Size Does Matter

It’s amazing how a simple realization can change your whole outlook. For my entire playing career I have always thought that I had trouble with 4th finger intonation because I just didn’t practice it enough. I figured I was on the lazy side, and if I really valued it I would have spent the time long ago to really make it work. I was working with student on developing her intonation when I realized that my fourth finger on my left hand is a full 1/4″ shorter than the pinky on my right hand. This accounts for so much that I had not been able to understand about my playing.

Not that it is an excuse for being out of tune, but now I know that I need to adjust my playing due to a lack of reach instead of a lack of intent. There is so much that we are told along the way that we take as law, when in reality these concepts need to be adjusted to accommodate the individual’s physical peculiarities. I have another student whom we have discovered will be unable to play the 4th finger on the G or D string due to a wrist injury when she was younger. We will find ways around this limitation using position changes that we might not employ otherwise. Since we know what the issue is, we will find a way around it.

I suppose my point is that once you know what your limitations are, physical or mental, you can find a way to overcome them.

Posted in: Uncategorized by Cathy 2 Comments

The Cobbler’s Children Have No Shoes

We know that budget cuts are forcing more and more schools to remove or drastically reduce their music and art programs, even though there are significant studies indicating a direct correlation between increased math and science abilities and musical instruction. I teach kids of all levels and degrees of interest, but when it comes to bringing that life skill to my own children, I continually drop the ball. I frequently am asked if any of my kids play violin, to which the unfortunate answer is “No”. My oldest let me teach her for a little while when she was young, but she and I have extremely different personalities, and we did not do well as a student/teacher combo.

My younger daughter expressed an interest in learning fiddle, and while we did briefly start lessons, we also moved three times in three years and that most decidedly got us off track. She has now decided to play the cello in school (the one stringed instrument, along with banjo, that I do not play; OR drums. ) And while my young boy may have an interest, he’s little and we’ll see what develops.

I suppose what I find intriguing is that when it comes to other people’s kids, I have near-infinite patience to allow them to learn at their own rate. With my kids, I expect much more and tolerate less. Hence the concept that the cobbler’s children have no shoes — I spend so much of my time making the path easier for other kids (and adults) that I have not been able to set aside time to teach my children something I feel is valuable to know.

I don’t expect any of my kids to want to do what I do. I just want them to be able to experience the fun of making music. It is around them day in and day out, as I teach and practice at home. I guess I just have to make a point of (like so many other things) making it happen. It’s about time my kids quit having to go barefoot.

Me, Myself, and I

I have come to realize that songwriting has to be one of the most intriguing and gratifying things that I have ever done. I had no idea when I wrote my first song with lyrics how it would affect me. I found that I was incredibly protective of it. I did not leave snippets of lyric lying around, and waited a good week or more after making a rehearsal recording before anyone in the family heard it.

However, while no one else was being asked to listen, I could not hear it often enough. It’s as though every time I heard it, I expected that it was written (and performed) by someone else. I thought to myself “This person really gets me — This song completely nails the way I was feeling. It reflects all the things I was going through!”. Crazy, I know.

It almost felt as if I didn’t have much input in the final creative process, that it just sort of happened, and I was there to write it down. Words that were intended to fill spaces and create the right rhyme, ended up putting voice to feelings I had forgotten I had. Then, once I got the guts to play it for Jim, it morphed into the song it was meant to be. It needed his touch on the guitar, and the ability to help me find that one missing chord — the one I knew when I heard it, but had not been able to find. The words were done, but the feel and the pacing and ultimately the tone needed to be explored before it felt right.

I had never been able to express myself with words and music before. I honestly had not believed that I could do it. I guess in a way, it did sort of happen without me. It happened without my overwhelming doubt and criticism, and I have never been more proud of anything in my life. So, I listen to it and experience those feelings all again, but with the distance that only time and expression can provide. There are some lines that touch me so deeply that I worry whether I can sing them, but in the end they sing themselves.

I wonder if all songs make you feel this wonderful when they finally surface. I guess I’ll have to write another one and find out….

Don’t Bother Knockin’

I need some doors. I don’t mean the proverbial kind, like doors that lead to opportunities, I mean doors made of wood, or perhaps a combination of wood and glass. Maybe something with a nice bit of detail, or etching on the glass.

I have realized that while it’s great to push yourself beyond your comfort zone and self imposed limits, there is something to be said for feeling secure while you do that. Right now, my music studio is in what is supposed to be a front living room. Since our family room is right off of the kitchen and has a amazing view of the back yard, we saw no reason to have a whole room essentially set up as a parlor. Who has a parlor anymore? So I staked my claim, and since I have a ton of gear, it became my music room.

It’s lovely because it’s huge, and I can keep everything in one place, but there is no way to block it off from the rest of the house when I am working. This means that any time it occurs to someone (by which I mean “the children”) to say something, they are right there, in the room. Regardless of how minor or unimportant, it must be expressed immediately. This is the reason why I had to give up trying to teach out of our house and move my studio to Woodsy’s. I could not convince Logan that while I was working, I could not be interrupted unless it was a real problem.

So now I realize that in order to really be able to get any real work done, I need to be able to close myself off. This is one of the things I love about working over at Jim’s studio- not only is it soundproof, but when you shut the door, you feel as though you can make mistakes without the other poor folks in the house having to hear how much you mess up until you get it right.

I had a student this week who was struggling with her bow jittering for the first 15 minutes or so of every practice session. We talked about when and where she practices, she said she has been practicing in her living room, usually while her husband is sitting there trying to read. That would make anyone nervous! I swear that I find it harder to play in front of 1 or 2 people than I do in front of hundreds. I feel very exposed and vulnerable when playing for so few, especially people whose opinion I value.

So, I need some doors (extra wide, please — these door frames are huge!) so thar I can feel a bit safer while I push those boundaries of comfort.

Why Buy The Cow….

Recently, I was having a conversation that I have had several times over the course of my career. Always with different people, but the gist is the same: why is it that people who would not ask for free merchandise from a craftsman, do not hesitate to ask for talent to be given away for free?

There are certain industries, music being one of them, wherein you routinely are asked and even expected to play for nothing or next-to-nothing. Whether it’s for a fundraiser, a project, or an opportunity for some extra exposure or other event, some folks simply expect you to give away your hard-earned talent and skills because they are ephemeral. We don’t have a widget that we can pull off of a shelf, hold in our hand and say “I spent $2.50 wholesale to buy this widget and need to sell it at $5.00 to cover my overhead and expenses”. There is no tangible and lasting evidence that anything was consumed when the product is an experience.

Of course we do have expenses that we have incurred to make the experience not only happen, but if we are careful, memorable as well. There’s the equipment (guitars, microphones, fiddles, strings, rosin etc.) and the training — let me assure you that Vanderbilt degrees do not come cheap! These factors at the very least involve an outlay of cash just to make the music possible. What about all the time spent practicing? Considering the number of hours I put in to every single song I perform, I don’t even come close to minimum wage when I DO get paid.

This brings me to the title of this post “Why buy the cow, (when you can get the milk for free)?” — usually referring to sex, but hey, that’s an experience too, right? Why support a musician or other experience-giver as you would a retail venture, if that person’s talent is only useful when it is being consumed? Like the “If a tree falls in the woods…” scenario, if a musician has talent, but no one is there to hear it, does it have any worth?

To answer my own somewhat rhetorical question, I think the worth is in the realization of the absence of the music, and what would be lacking if the musician was not there. However, to the person who is asking you to play for nothing simply because you can, you are left holding the bag as a horrible, selfish person if you refuse.

“You could make this work if only you would share your skills without thought of compensation! It’s not like you’re using them right now! It costs you (the musician) nothing to take out your fiddle and play, and that simple act would make this a better, more profitable experience!”

Yet, if you respond that this is your livelihood, and that you would have to charge for those services, you’re greedy. Would these same folks expect to call a plumber and say “Hey, you’re not doing anything right now and my sink is plugged. You should come over here and fix it for free, because you can.” All it takes is know-how, right?

I am not angry or upset — I am merely making an observation that talent — all kinds of talent — is not valued in general as a commodity. This is why we don’t pay our teachers enough, and why we have few qualms about paying for the part at the auto mechanic’s, but the labor fee burns our biscuits.

I was heartened that the conversation to which I am referring was between myself and a venue owner. This person also has a creative aptitude aside from her venue management, and can understand the frustration that often accompanies those trying to transform a skill into a living. However, as sympathetic as she is, she is a business owner and has to try and make the most fiscally responsible decisions she can during a difficult period for entrepreneurs.

Perhaps the next time you are spending your very hard-earned money, think a little about the intangibles that had to go into that purchase — it might be the customer service that you experienced during your visit, or the atmosphere that was created to make you feel as though that item was one you should own. (Perhaps created by the music that was playing at the time?)

Then, consider your own talents and how other people benefit from them — I’ll wager that you feel they have worth as well.

I’m the Lucky One

I feel incredibly fortunate – I am able to do what I love for a living, with a fantastic support system and what feels like unlimited opportunities. I think about the things that have come to pass for me to be in this place, right now, and I am overwhelmed by it all. I was able to study at a fantastic school, receive the best medical care when my career was in jeopardy, and although there was a period when I wasn’t playing regularly, I still had the opportunity to teach some wonderful people.

I know this is an incredibly self-centered post, but I was looking at the difference in my life from this time last year, and it is almost unrecognizable. Last April, I was logging an incredible number of hours trying to do the work of two people, recovering from surgery, and teaching only a handful of students. I was playing with a great group of folks, but it wasn’t where I wanted to be — I wanted more.

During this past year, we moved to Medina where we have always wanted to live, I left the full time position to concentrate of teaching and gigging, and miraculously met the perfect person with whom to pursue music. I am fortunate enough to have a full gig schedule, wonderful original songs to help arrange, the inspiration to write some of my own and a great environment in which to achieve these goals that were put off for so long.

So, I just wanted to take a moment to reflect upon just how lucky I am to have been in the right place at the right time, often enough to be happy.

Out Of The Zone

Jim gave me a CD with a few new songs we are working on, and among them was a recording he’d made with some of the other guys he has played with over the years. It’s a big jam tune, and if you’ve been to one of our shows, you know the one I mean. This recording got me to thinking about leaving your comfort zone — the guys who are soloing are not necessarily doing so in a directed fashion, meaning that they don’t seem to be taking a particular theme and following it, including the melody. I have no problem with that, and I have meandered through many a solo break in my day.

I think the thing that struck me most was the willingness to try something that wasn’t guaranteed to work. Admittedly, this was not a performance recording, but done in a rehearsal setting. However, there was a level of experimentation that I find difficult to do in front of other people. I tend to feel like if someone else is going to hear it, it had better be worth hearing (which can make for some interesting rehearsals, let me tell you).

With that in mind, my favorite quote at the moment is one I heard from Mark O’Connor when I was taking his course to certify for his teaching method:

“All of my improvisation happens in my living room.”

This, for me, was an epiphany. I had never considered that these fantastic, in-the-moment players were not creating their solos right there in front of me, but were carefully constructing them to sound like they were done on the fly. This led me to craft most of my solos at home and leave a bit of wiggle room should I feel like reinterpreting it at a gig, but not reinventing the wheel every time I played a song. A very “A Ha!” moment for me.

However, I think that this reliance on preparation and craft can sometimes lead to a lack of originality and a reluctance to leave your comfort zone — that happy, sunny place where you know you are king and anything you dream is possible. Anything outside of that area has the potential for failure, and that is a problem for me.

So there is a phrase that I have been telling my students for years, but that I need to remember for myself:

“Give yourself permission to suck.”

In order to push beyond the boundaries of my own design, I have to be OK with the fact that I will inevitably fail. I want to have an edgy, funky solo during this jam tune, but to achieve that, I have to be willing to play something that I think is not beautiful in the traditional sense, or maybe even to my own ears. Very early on in our rehearing together, I asked Jim “Am I not adventurous enough for you?”. Sometimes I think the answer is that I’m not. So, its time to push beyond where I know I can play, into the areas that are uncertain for me.

This can apply to so many other things that we do in our lives — work, food, clothes, exercise, books, thoughts — even how we interact with other people. If going to a party where you don’t really know anyone fills you with dread, try approaching it as an opportunity to stretch beyond your happy place — but give yourself permission to occasionally do it poorly. You may not be as bubbly and effervescent the first time out as you will be later, but you are giving it a try, and that’s what is important.

So I am going to try and push beyond the safety rail and see what happens. If you try the same, let me know how it went for you — but I will guarantee you that at first, it will suck, and I’m (trying to be) OK with that.

It’s not you, it’s me….

When you work with a student, you inevitably build a relationship with them. Usually, it starts out somewhat distant, with the student bringing a fair amount of anxiety into the studio regardless of how hard you may try to relieve their performance stress. Of course, each student is different, and not everyone becomes nervous playing for their teacher. However, when the relationship is no longer beneficial to the student, he or she should feel free to discuss this with their instructor and expect them to understand.

All too often, concern on the part of the student that they will hurt the teacher’s feelings by being honest with them limits their willingness to end a working relationship. When the student is a child, sometimes they don’t realize that they even have the option of speaking up and letting a parent know that they are no longer enjoying their lessons because they don’t get along with the teacher. It can also be the case that children simply do not realize that changing to another instructor is even a possibility. If they don’t like their teacher at school, they have no recourse other than to tough out the year and hope for better luck next time.

If the student is an adult, I think it can be easier to arrive at the decision to switch, however some folks go to great lengths in order to avoid the unpleasantness of seeing your former instructor as you are going into your lesson with a new person. It’s kind of like running into your ex at the bar with your date. You feel guilty, and perhaps as though you have hurt their feelings.

While this careful consideration of our emotions as teachers is certainly appreciated, this is not how you would approach other business relationships. Admittedly, the music student/teacher counterpoint is far more personal than perhaps your interaction with your dry cleaner. You spend time each week working to perfect assignments to please a person of expertise, and are hoping for encouragement with a personal goal or dream. However, if your dry cleaner wasn’t performing up to your expectations, you would be looking around for a new place to get your shirts pressed, and you wouldn’t think twice about how it might make them feel.

I guess I say all of this to impart that any teacher worth his or her salt would want to know whether you are feeling fulfilled in your quest to learn. If not, we should be attempting to better accommodate your needs. The ultimate goal is for you to be satisfied with your progress. If we are disappointed with your decision to go elsewhere, it should be with our inability to meet your needs, not with you as a person. If we know that we are not able to teach you what you want to know, we should have the wherewithal to tell you as much.

Board to Death – Gear Head Installment #1

Look at all this stuff!!One of my favorite things when I show up to play somewhere is the look I inevitably get when I pull out my pedal board. Most folks aren’t expecting the fiddler to show up with as much gear as the lead guitarist, and on that note, they are generally correct. However, I take my sound very seriously, and I want it consistent and controllable — hence the heavy-ass board I cart everywhere. Of course, this is nothing compared to how heavy Jim’s gear is, but I have to compete somehow.

So for all you gear heads out there, or for the merely curious onlookers who think I’m nuts, I have a breakdown of what’s living on my pedal board. I had to hunt around for a while until I found one that was:

a.) Big enough
b.) Powered
c.) Affordable (this was the toughest part)

I got this Eleca model at GitterPicker in Twinsburg, where I spend a fair amount of my week teaching. Special thanks to Steve (the owner) on the suggestions regarding securing everything to the board. I now have everything tied down with eyelets and wire to keep them from slipping around. Velcro really can’t handle holding down the heavy stuff. However, when you need to move something, you’d better have your wire cutters handy! The only bummer is that the bag it comes with is not as sturdy as I would like. I’ll have to try and find another one here soon.

Across the top, you’ll find my Morley ABC swtich (no store in town carries one — I had to order it online) to switch between the three instruments I use through the other effects. To the right of the ABC are the preamps – one for each fiddle, and one for the viola. This way, I can control the sound for each one individually. These are Fishman G II Acoustic Preamps, but I would love to have a bit better model to use. The Pro EQ II or Platinum, or even a L.R. Baggs Para Acoustic; but those guys cost a bunch — so this is where we stand for now. The third preamp (the one that doesn’t match) is a Martin I borrowed from my dad. It has nice control, but the volume knob is way too touchy and goes from nothing to blasting within millimeters. I hope to replace that soon. Perhaps even before this post is live!

Below the inputs and preamps are the fun stuff. From left to right they are:

Mod Tone Chromatic Tuner – What a fantastic tuner! The display is blue instead of red which makes it really easy to see in any light. I have yet to use it outdoors since I only got it a few months ago, but I am sure it will be perfect even in direct sunlight. I got this one at Woodsy’s in Medina – another place where I teach.

Boss RV-3 Reverb/Delay – The best one on the market. I bought this one off of my brother, and I’m so glad I did. It has a level of control that is unparalleled. Unfortunately when Boss upgraded it to the RV-5, their revamping took away a lot of the ability to control the delay length and depth as well some texture in the reverb sound. If you are looking for one, go used and get the RV-3. The RV-5 is a disappointment.

DigiTech JML2 JamMan Stereo Looper and Phrase Sampler This thing is the best part about my board. I started using one when I saw what Jim was able to do with his. He uses it to loop his voice and sing harmonies, however I use mine to loop my instrument and play against my own melody/rhythm line. I only recently used it for both vocals and fiddle. It’s a bit tricky but has amazing potential. It has a bunch of on board stuff we never use. We are both of the opinion that live music should be LIVE, so we don’t pre-record anything that we use in a show. And honestly, it’s too hard to ensure that you have the exact right tempo and that your recording matches your current tuning. I have ideas and other sketches stored on it for my own sake, but I never use those in performance.

It comes with on-board rhythm tracks and the ability to set a tempo, among other things. The way we use it is to record a section as we play/sing it, replay it and either harmonize against it or record (overdub) over the top of your initial section. That is how I perform Catalyst, Dunmore Lasses and several other tunes that use the looper. When you hear multiple vocal lines that build upon one other in layers, it’s all going through the JamMan. It’s an amazing way for two people, a guitar and a fiddle to sound like a big damn band playing. You can also make some spectacular mistakes along the way!

Seymour Duncan Preamp Booster – I needed to find a way to cut over other things that might be going on during a song when a solo comes up without having to try and adjust volume on a preamp. None of the instruments I currently use at gigs have on-board volume control, so this was my solution. You set the level of boost ahead of time and just leave it in reserve for when you need a little extra push of sound. I grabbed this one at Woodsy’s in Kent.

I am hoping to have a flange pedal in here soon, but I have no idea where I would put it. I guess I’ll be looking for another board at some point. Good grief….. Just play the fiddle, dammit! Do you really need all this junk??

So there you have it — all the boring details you could ever want about a fiddle player’s toy box. I’m going to include info about my fiddles in future posts, so be prepared to yawn some more. If you have suggestions about other items to try — I’m all ears. I love checking out shiny new playthings!!

Musical Catch-22

I recently had the privilege of being asked to adjudicate scholarship auditions at one of the schools where I am on faculty. Hell, I just like being able to use the word adjudicate. I had never done this before, although I have been on the other side of that long table many times over the years. It’s a nerve-wracking thing, performing an audition. You don’t have the same kind of adrenaline that you do before a performance. You feel like it is a far more intense performance when you audition, as if you were on a job interview or a first date. I personally find it much more difficult to play with only one of two people in the room than I do a hall of several hundred. When there’s only a handful of people present, you know that they are listening to every small mistake and in this case, judging your worth based upon a single snapshot moment. Or, even worse, you can tell when they are not paying any attention to what you are doing at all; as if you weren’t even there. Whether or not these kids are thinking of it this way, I can’t be sure, but I know that’s the case, so I am nervous for them.

Their ages ranged from 8 to 17. It was so interesting to see the different levels of playing ability within that age span. There were a few players who were accomplished enough that they could have as easily been auditioning for college. Then there were older children (13-14) who had just started playing an instrument. I am finding a lot more of these players in my own studio. Kids who for whatever reason, didn’t get to start an instrument until middle school, when the previous trend was kids starting while still in elementary grades.

However, what I found most difficult about the whole process was how to rate these kids. Think about it — if you have access to lessons, and have had the benefit of a private teacher, you are far more likely to be a better player than a student who has only recently come to the instrument and may not have had many of those advantages. So which student deserves to get a scholarship to help pay for more lessons? They are all currently studying with a faculty member at this school, but some have only been playing for a month or two. the teacher put them forth for scholarship consideration based upon their desire to learn the instrument and their demonstrated potential, but those attributes are not always obvious to the judges sitting there listening to that snapshot, taken at a moment in time.

So here’s the Catch-22: Do you recommend the kids who are already good and want to be better? Or do you recommend the ones who need the help even more since they are just beginning to learn?

Our jobs were to judge based on ten criteria (we’ll see if I can remember all ten): Accuracy, Dynamics, Tone Quality, Fluency, Intonation, Phrasing, Rhythm, Tempo, Stage Presence and Sense of Style. Out of all of these, I found the factors for Stage Presence and Sense of Style to be the ones where I gave kids the most leeway. there was one girl who showed up and played even thought she was obviously fighting a very bad head cold. Another boy got full marks in these categories from me because when he made a glaring mistake, he not only played through it, but smiled (a personal habit of mine — if you see me smiling at Jim at a gig, I just screwed up. There’s a fun drinking game for you at one of our shows!). And yet another kid who was so visibly nervous that her hands were shaking almost violently, but she played anyway and tried to hide it.

Another difficulty for me was that we were supposed to be very bland in our responses to the performances. We were supposed to use non-judgemental language like just saying “Thank you” after a performance instead of “Good job” or “Nice”. They got the wrong people for the job then on this one, because my fellow judges (very cool people I was happy to meet) and I are all the same — a teacher first. We couldn’t let these kids leave feeling like they hadn’t been appreciated, and we couldn’t put aside being a teacher and offering a small amount of praise for even showing up and trying. Sure some kids were better than others, and some had obviously prepared better, but they were all kids; and we all knew what it feels like to be in that situation and leave feeling like you may have failed.

So I got to spend the better part of a day judging kids whom I thought were all quite talented, who all seemed to have the drive to continue to grow and learn. I doubt that the school will be saving any money on scholarships this year, because I tend to grade high. We’ll see if they ask me to do it again next year….