Last week I gave a presentation on my Wagner Violoncello da Spalla in the Music Conservatory in Bolzano. It was a fulfilling experience because all the people there were interested in their own way. None of them was there just to hear a music conference. They were there for curiosity and information. I spoke in front of twelve people: you may think it was a tight number, and it sure was, but this allowed establishing relationships, which is far more precious than a bunch of email contacts. Four were teachers from the conservatory, two others were a singer and a cembalo maker, and they asked technical questions and about repertoire. And finally, two violinists and were there to try. One was already thinking about it and was informed, and the other was just moved by extreme curiosity and enthusiasm.
I had the opportunity for the first time to observe someone trying to play a cello da Spalla not just out of curiosity and bravery (oh, what’s that, let me try), but because they are interested and wanted to succeed. And I noticed something remarkable.
The two guys were indeed different, one from the other. One was high, big shoulders and big hands already used to baroque playing and gut strings. The other was tiny, with experience only on modern instruments. I had with me two instruments and two bows, so they started trying at the same moment. Of course, I gave them a bit of indication about the position, how to use the strap and how to hold the instrument not to drive the bow into your nose. Muscle memory is a powerful thing and always gets in the way, making us lifting the scroll and the left hand to get to a more violinistic position. So, for both, the first minute was a fight: against old posture habits and a long time metabolised use of the right hand. But the instrument and bow were fighting back, and it seemed for a moment that a common language was not to be found on that evening. They knew it was possible because they heard me playing both the instrument during the presentation, so they were not to accept a failure easily.
However, there was a moment of delusion in which probably they both abandoned their expectations. At that moment, they relaxed. It was just a second in which their position changed, their body changed, and the sound came out. One of them became tremendously serious, the other had laughing eyes! And it was in the exact moment that, one to me and the other to Alessandro, they asked: where can I buy one of these?
Later at home, we were still talking about how their relationship with the cello da Spalla evolved at the same time, how for both it took no more than three minutes to move from “try hard” to open availability, and how in that right moment the instrument responded with his full warm voice.
As a viola player, I never give for granted a relationship with an instrument. “My” viola was the fifth probably that I owned. Sometimes we cannot find that relationship, and we start to think that it is just a tool to express ourselves. A tool. I saw that evening that Violoncello da Spalla has a talent for creating that relationship, even with very different musicians. It demands some attention and respect, but he’s generously and promptly giving back.
I am grateful I could witness the moment in which the relationship between the musician and the instrument was born.
Updates from our workshop
Exactly, we are enjoying a brief holiday. We are in Liguria and the incredible ship at the horizon is Amerigo Vespucci, the training ship of the Italian Navy. We took the occasion to visit our friend Antonino Airenti to show him our cellos and have a try with different bows and strings.
Featured video of the week
Released this week, Sergey Malov playing a Beethoven Cello Sonata. Enjoy!