My Friends

Every cello that has been mine to play will always have a special place in my heart. I can recall every detail of all of them, from my first rental all the way to my current instrument. I can even remember the slight gradations in the color of the varnish on the back of the instrument I played on in high school; a deep autumnal yellow in the center fanning out to a dark brown, like the color of wet tree bark after a summer rain. I loved them all. How could I not, I spent more time with them then with anything or anybody else!

Finding them wasn’t always easy. In fact, it is more as if they found me. It seems that every cello I have played on was meant to find its way into my hands. In some ways they have been more than just a tool for musical expression; some have taught me about music and myself, others have been (on some days) my enemy, and others at times were my only true friend. For me, a cello is way beyond a mere wooden box and strings. It is as close to a living, breathing thing that an inanimate object can come.

My first cello came to me by way of my first music teacher, Daniel Wilshire. He was an immense, colorful personality, and aside from being a wonderful public school music teacher he was also a gifted composer. He showed up at school one day during a fourth grade assembly. He told us that we had the option of either learning a stringed instrument or singing in a choir. There was no way I was going to sing, so that was out. He first held up a violin, played it a bit, and then asked for a show of hands of who wanted to learn. Half of the assembly raised their hands. I was suspicious; I was already quite the individualist at 9 years old, and it would take more than a majority to impress me! Next was the viola. Almost no one raised their hands. I decided against it; it seemed like a strange hybrid of an instrument, and I didn’t much like the looks of the people who had raised their hands (I have since made friends with some very nice violists, they are a surprisingly nice bunch!) All that was left was the cello and the bass. The cello was the clear winner. It seems that I was enough of a pragmatist to see that the bass would be a literal pain in the neck for me to carry around!

I was given an instrument that day, along with a short lesson on how to care for it. I was actually a little annoyed, as I didn’t really want to be involved with music at all. My passions were history and astronomy, among many others, but none of them remotely close to music.

At home, I unpacked the cello. I tentatively plucked the c string, and it was all over. I was hooked, just as much as when I now take out the instrument every morning and pluck the strings. There was something about the knowledge that I was in control of the sound that I found mesmerizing. The cello itself was a deep brown color, very ugly, with a muted sound. But I loved it. It became my constant companion. I would even practice at 6 in the morning, much to my parents displeasure!

My next cello came two years later. I had been one of the few students to stick with a string instrument, since in the fifth grade they gave us the option of switching to one of those awful wind instruments (such as that glorified duck call, the saxophone.) Of course many were lured with the idea of one day becoming a member of the feted Glendora High School Marching Band. Again, suspicious of any kind of collective movement, I stayed with the cello, but mainly because I loved it. This was a lucky break for me; because of the sudden lack of cellists I got my pick of the best instruments! The one I picked was brand new, not a scratch on it, and its tone was full and noble, if not particularly large. It was only a year later that I started to take private lessons (having only had group lessons twice or three times a week for the first two years of my studies) so it was on this instrument that I first really started to practice.

Around the age of 13 it started to become clear to my teachers and my parents that I needed my own instrument. I was practicing a lot, and I successfully auditioned as fourth chair in one of the best youth orchestras in southern California, so it only made sense to take the next step. I remember going to Studio City Music (now Benning Violins) in Studio City, CA with my dad and my cello teacher at the time, a wonderful lady by the name of Doris Savery. She was an extraordinarily tough teacher who taught me to think seriously about the problems of playing the cello. She herself was a wonderful cellist, and had in the past played in the studios of Hollywood during the golden age of films.

The shop was filled to the brim with celli. I had never seen anything so wonderful! After playing five of them, I had already made up my mind. The cello had found me once again! It was a german made cello, around ten years old, with a rich, golden varnish, and a wonderful sound. I had never played on anything like it. It was on this cello that I played my first competition, first big youth orchestra concert, and my first solo performance for over 1,000 people!

About two years after this wonderful new friend came into my life, it was already time for another. When I was 15 I started studying with Dr. Richard Naill, the man who became my chief mentor (and who in some ways is like a second father.) He determined that in order to be more competitive and to grow more I needed an instrument that could respond to more sensitive impulses. The Colburn School, where I was studying with Dr. Naill, had a few instruments available to loan to students, and I was lucky enough to receive one. It was a wonderful french cello, made sometime in the mid-19th century, with an incredibly rich and buttery sound. It wasn’t especially powerful, but it projected well. It was also the easiest to play among all of the celli I have ever played. It was on this cello that I won a place in the cello studio of the venerated teacher and cellist Ronald Leonard at the University of Southern California. I played on that cello for almost 3 years, which was actually the longest I had ever played on a single instrument up to that point!

Since I would be leaving for college soon, I no longer would be able to play on the cello owned by the Colburn School. It was time for the next purchase, and thankfully my parents had the money for it. I am forever in their debt for not only their wonderful, supportive parenting but also their financial help in acquiring instruments. As many of you know, celli are terribly expensive, and for a middle class family such as mine it was always a stretch. I was an expensive child!

The next instrument was maybe the ugliest looking of them all. It was a very dull brown color, it had a very bizarre form (the upper and lower bouts were almost the same width, and width of the sides were unusually thin) and its provenance was highly suspicious. It had a sticker inside of it stating that it was from the workshop of Hermann Prell, who was a bow maker! There is no record that he ever actually built an instrument, so it was definitely a fake. However the sound and playability of this cello was fantastic. It had a full, slightly coarse and nasal sound, but what power! It was the most powerful cello I had owned yet. You can actually hear this cello being played at the beginning of my Virtual Sheet Music videos!

On to my current and longest relationship. It is a beautiful, extraordinary instrument by the french maker Bertrand Delisle, who lives and builds instruments in Cremona, Italy. He is now becoming more famous for his celli, but when I bought the instrument in 2006 it was the first one sold in the U.S. It is visually stunning. The varnish is bright red with a slight yellowish hue at the edges. Mr. Delisle thankfully left the instrument in its natural state and refrained from antiquing it, so the true beauty of his craftsmanship really shines through! It has a very open and bright sound, which has mellowed considerably after I started using gut strings. It is also the first cello that is thoroughly mine, as I bought and paid for it with a generous interest free loan from my mom, which has since been payed back. I have played on this glorious instrument for over ten years, and it is hard to imagine my life without it!

Not only have all of these celli found me, but music also found me. And I am thankful for all of it. Music has done much to define me, and anyone who is blessed enough to study music (but especially the king of instruments, the cello) will find their life enriched by endless beauty and wonder. Its funny, when we search for beauty we rarely find it; it is only when we give up the search that, like a beautiful instrument, it seems to find us!



The Bach Suites

I think it was Christmas, around 1994 (give or take a year.) One of the presents under the tree was a large, slim book. I opened it and saw a copy of the Cello Suites by J. S. Bach. I was very excited! I had heard Yo Yo Ma’s recordings of the suites sometime before and I had fallen in love, and to have a copy of this music to play was a dream come true. Later in the day, I took my cello out and began a deep, long friendship that continues to this day.

The Cello Suites by J. S. Bach are a singular achievement in the history of western music. No other composer has ever come close to achieving what Bach did in these pieces; he said so much with so very little. He created six suites of such beauty and majesty, such range of emotions, and gave them to a solitary cello. He could have orchestrated them, fleshed them out, adding harmonies and counterpoint in order to give his ideas more impact. But he humbled his music by giving it to a single instrument, and by doing so, he exalted it. He exalted his ideas by showing that all that is necessary to represent the whole spectrum of the human experience is a single cello. No fancy tricks are necessary. Just four strings strapped to a box, and a human being with beauty in her soul.

But why the cello? Not to say anything disparaging about my favorite instrument, but in the early 18th century it was hardly the superstar that it would later become not that long after Bach’s death. And yet the cello seemed to have been a favorite instrument of Bach’s. He featured it (along with its now defunct five-stringed cousin, the violoncello piccolo) in many of his large scale works, such as the passions of Matthew and John, the Brandenburg Concerti, and many of the cantatas he wrote earlier in his career. He never thought of the instrument as purely a bass voice. His treatment of the instrument is essentially soloistic. He gave it interesting lines, never relegating it to simply holding the foundational notes. So it is not surprising that he wrote suites for unaccompanied cello. What is surprising is how unbelievable effective they are.

One of the miraculous aspect of the suites is the fact that the harmonies we hear when the suites are played are largely implied, meaning that notes that are not played are actually “heard,” which fills out the harmonies in such a way so that no other instrument is necessary. Bach depends on our musical memory to make his harmonic argument, and as a result of his writing the harmonies are clear in our mind, even though they are not actively present. For example, listen to the Prelude of the G major suite. The bottom bass notes continue to be present in our memory as the other notes are played, even though they are not being sustained. Bach understood that his listeners would be able to hold these harmonies in our minds if he suggested them through his writing, and he is successful at it throughout the suites (for pieces that are less successful at this, listen to the Cello Suites by Max Reger. They are wonderful music in their own right, but not nearly as successful at communicating implied harmony.) It is because of this “implied harmony” that the cello suites are able to harmonically communicate anything at all (a quick aside: I wonder what this means in regards to current thinking in the subject of philosophy of mind? If our minds can “fill in” harmonic material that is not actively present, isn’t this the musical version of the “after-image” visual effect? Memory is certainly a strange thing indeed!)

Compositional technique aside, The Cello Suites are also amazing in their emotional complexity. In the course of six suites, Bach manages to touch upon an infinite amount of human emotions, giving every listener at every age and level of life experience something to ponder and reflect upon. How many joyous moments have I had listening to the heavenly outbursts in the D major suite? How much more bleak and lonely can music get than in the Sarabande of the C minor suite? How much more architectural grandeur can be displayed musically than in the Prelude of the C major suite? In the Cello Suites, Bach gives us an entire world, a panoramic view of humanity and nature that has never been surpassed.

It should be obvious to all of you by now how much I love this music! It has been a friend in tough times and in happier moments, always lifting me up whenever I am down and keeping me up when I am high. I am thankful to Bach for this music, and to God who made him.

So why all the fuss about the Cello Suites? I have decided to devote some serious time and study to the suites, which will hopefully result in a book about what is required of us technically and musically to play them. The Cello Suites are great music, but they are also a great way to study the problems of playing the cello, the technical and musical. The book will be a “manifesto” of sorts, using the suites to illustrate what I think is important in cello playing and musicianship in general. I will blog occasionally on my progress when I feel that I have anything valuable to share.

Thank you for reading!




As I was preparing for my recording of the complete works for cello and piano by Joachim Raff, I kept finding myself asking some fundamental questions about how this music should be played. In his Duo for Cello and Piano, a wonderful piece which beautifully exploits the technical and expressive range of both instruments, there are markings in the cello part that indicate vibrato usage. This posed an interesting problem for me, largely because I had already been using copious amounts of vibrato in the passage that precedes the vibrato marking in the score. I had also never seen vibrato indications in 19th century music before, so I had no other examples of solutions to draw from. What was I to do, vibrate even more? The markings seem to be suggesting that I should be severely restricting my vibrato before the indication in the score so that the section with the indication for vibrato could become accentuated in the way the composer intended. However, no one today plays with a restricted vibrato in romantic era music. Heavy use of vibrato is considered to be one of the most important aspects of the romantic cello sound. What Raff was asking me to do was to play with sparing vibrato in a romantic era piece. As you can hear in the recording, I kept the standard practice of frequent vibrato usage, as it was the only way I could make the piece sound convincing in the recording sessions.

But I remained unsettled, and after the sessions I started to do some digging. What I found was that the instrument has undergone a profound change since the 19th century, not just in the way it is played, but also in the equipment itself.

Most cellists today are aware that cellists in the baroque period all played with the instrument held between their legs, and that the material used for the strings was a combination of plain sheep or cow gut and gut with silver or nickel winding over it. What many players do not realize is that playing on gut strings with no endpin was fairly common all the way until the 1920’s. In fact, many of the most famous cellists in the romantic era played without an endpin. David Popper, Alfredo Piatti, Friedrich Grützmacher, Friedrich Dotzauer, Bernhard Romberg, and Robert Hausmann (Brahms’s favorite cellist) all played on gut strings with no endpin. The first cellist to use an endpin was probably Adrien Servais, who apparently invented it because his stomach had grown so large that he couldn’t hold the cello between his legs anymore. Following in Servais’ footsteps, some cellists adopted its use, such as Karl Davidov, Carl Schroeder, Hugo Becker, and Julius Klengel. From the last quarter of the 19th century until the first quarter of the 20th, whether or not you used an endpin while playing the cello had much to do with personal taste and whether or not your teacher used one. For example, Pablo Casals used an endpin for his entire career, more than likely because his teacher used one. However, students of Robert Hausmann mostly played without an endpin, with the famous English cellist Percy Such being one of the last in the 20th century to play in the old manner.

At some point between 1930 and the second world war the endpin became universally used. Why? Some of the greatest cellists of the day, such as Hugo Becker, claimed that with the cello secured on the floor the body of the instrument can vibrate more freely, thus amplifying the tone. This “fact” appears in many other treatises written around 1900. I am not sure that this is true. There are many variables that go into the size of a cello sound, and whether or not the ribs of the instrument are dampened or “freed” by the presence of an endpin seems to make only a marginal difference. It also must be mentioned that according to contemporaneous critical reports the sound of Robert Hausmann was the biggest of all the late 19th/early 20th century cellists, and he played sans endpin. But I digress!

After the endpin became ubiquitous, major changes in strings were around the corner. By the 1920’s, steel had already become quite common in the violin set up, as gut manufacturing suffered in quality during the Great War. Also, solo violinists were traveling much more to tropical and subtropical locales, such as the southern United States and southeast Asia, where the excessive heat and humidity were breaking their already fragile gut E strings. It was not long after that cellists started to experiment with steel on the top two strings. There were several notable holdouts, the most famous being Pau Casals, who revered gut as the only true cello sound (a view with which I am sympathetic!) When Rostropovich, with his all-steel high tension set up, hit the scene in the 1960s, many solo cellists became convinced that using steel on all four strings is the only way to create a big, competitive sound. Thus by the 1990’s almost no one was using gut, a rather sad condition that continues to this day.

So why is this important? Is there that big of a difference between playing with an endpin and not? Or between gut strings and steel? I was curious to see what the actual differences were, largely because I had become frustrated with my own playing during and after making the Raff CD. I was no where close to making the kinds of sounds I dream of, the kind of sounds made by Casals and Feuermann, but I also was curious of what problems late 19th century players had to deal with as well. I decided that if I am ever going to understand how these great players approached sound, I needed to approximate their set up, which was gut on all four strings, unwound on the top two. This involved getting an old tailpiece made in the 1940’s (I think, it may have been a little later) that had no built-in fine tuners, getting new notches cut in the bridge and the nut to accommodate the thicker strings, and of course purchasing the strings themselves. I also experimented with hours of practice with no endpin, to see what effect that might have on the sound and approach. One of the things I found was that playing with an endpin allows for much more freedom in the vibrato. The vibrato can be quite wide and ever-present, but without an endpin the cello is less stable, so a very wide vibrato tends to shake the instrument. However, the contact between the bow and the string is much improved, which leads the player to use the bow much more for expression in place of a wide vibrato palate. The result is much longer phrases, but a less beautiful sound. I did not notice a large difference in sound volume, in fact if there was any difference at all, playing with no endpin seemed to make the sound slightly larger, perhaps due to the increased bow contact. The strings made a much bigger difference. Gut will not speak if played aggressively, as opposed to steel which can withstand a violent approach (a sound can be made at least, whereas on gut no sound at all comes if you press even a tiny bit.) This forced my hands to move in a much more lyrical manner, and finally gave me the more cantabile sound I was looking for. The sound at first was quite small compared to steel, but after many hours of practice I figured out how to get a full sound from them. They also carry surprisingly well in large spaces, even though they don’t sound very loud under the ear.

This has led me to believe that, contrary to popular opinion, the changes in string performance style that have occurred since the beginning of the 20th century (a shift from lyrical and sonically expressive playing to a more angular, less sonically but more visually expressive approach) have not been products of changing tastes, but products of changing equipment. The equipment dictates more than anything else how we respond to and play an instrument, because changing styles can only occur if the instrument allows them to occur.

Getting back to Raff and the question of vibrato, I now understand why he would feel the need to mark in his music where he would like it to be present; he had no expectation that players would be vibrating much at all. Mind you this is in the heart of the romantic era. Not that all players of the day did not vibrate much; some, such as Karl Davidov and Adrien Servais, vibrated quite a bit (interestingly, both players were early exponents of the endpin.)

Then as performers, how do we approach the music that was written for the cello in this period? How can we use this information to better understand the music of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Brahms, Tchaikovsky and Raff? Is it even possible, with the cello set up as it is today (steel strings and a long and sometimes bent endpin,) to approach the music of the romantic era in a way that comes any at all close to what the composer intended? This is a philosophical question, and one that every musician who calls themselves an interpreter should confront. Is it your goal to try to play in a way that captures the true spirit of the music you are interpreting? Then knowledge can only help you. Even if you decide to disregard that knowledge and play as you feel on stage, you will still be better off for having that knowledge in you. It was a lesson I had to learn, and I am thankful to Raff for opening my eyes to it.



Want more beauty in your sound?

Well, you would be crazy not to! Everyone who plays the cello is searching for a more beautiful, expressive sound. It is a large part of my daily work at the instrument! However, getting less scratch and more beauty in your sound is easier than you think.

One of most common reasons for an unattractive cello sound is your equipment. How old are your strings? Has your cello been dropped recently with no visible damage? Was there a large change in the weather? These can all be reasons why you don’t have a beautiful sound, so if you haven’t already go to your local repair guy and have him look things over. It may be that your instrument is not working properly!

After you have taken any cello related variables out of the picture, you can then start to work on beautifying your sound. Try running your bow across an open string. See how it rings so beautifully? You should always try to get your instrument to ring this beautifully on every note you play. This is accomplished by making sure you always get the string down all the way against the fingerboard with your left hand fingers. When we depress the string with our fingers we sometimes don’t get the string all the way down. This can deaden the sound, and even occasionally produce a scratch. Try not use counter pressure from the left thumb when doing this, this will make you too tight and you won’t be able to shift or use vibrato!

The next step is to work on your bow technique. I find that most string players over press when they play, the reason being is that they want a big sound. A lot of effort equals a big sound, right? No!!! Sorry, I got a little angry there, I need a paragraph break to cool down…

O.K., I am back. And calm. Pressing does little to help you make a big sound. All it does is make your sound ugly and pinched. If that is what you want, then press away! If you want a beautiful sound rich in overtones, you have to learn to pull your sound out of the cello. When we pluck the string we are actually pulling it up or to the side, right? We should always imagine the same when we are bowing.

After doing all of these things you should notice a big improvement in your tone quality. Remember, playing loud and with an ugly sound is like being that guy at a party that laughs way too loud at every joke. He is the only one enjoying himself!

Happy practicing everyone!


Playing by heart

I love the phrase “playing by heart.” It sounds much better than “playing from memory.” To play by heart means to have the music living inside of you. To play from memory means to simply regurgitate stored information. So why is it important to play by heart?

The answer is simple. When the music is living inside of you it has genuinely become yours. When you play from your soul with no music in front of your eyes you can envision the music close to what the composer heard in his head before he wrote it down. Music does not live in the printed notes. It lives in the fired imagination of a creative artist. How do we achieve this stage in performance? It requires work of a very specific kind.

We must first understand that how we learn a piece in the beginning will do much to determine how we will eventually perform it. That is why I feel it is so important to try to commit to memory every detail of a piece as early as possible. So much time can be wasted practicing with the music in front of you, struggling to find the musical direction and technical perfection that we all desire. It is better to study the piece away from the cello and absorb it into our mind. It will help us to discover what the piece is asking of us before we start practicing it. Then when we start learning the piece at the cello we already have a much clearer idea of the way the work should sound. This will help us to commit the piece to memory much earlier along with diligent practice. Try to memorize one line at a time. Do not try to do too much all at once!

I would like all of you who have never played from memory to try doing it during your next practice session, no matter what your ability level is. You should notice a certain freedom in your playing along with a little more technical security. This is the first step to learning how to “play by heart!”


Thoughts on technique and music

When we practice, what is our goal? Is it simply to “get better?” What does it mean to get better? Certainly there are some purely objective standards such as intonation, smoothness, controlled bow changes, clean articulation, clarity, etc. Is the ultimate goal to play with a high technical standard?

It is arguable that from a purely technical point of view performance standards in classical music are much higher than they were 50-100 years ago. For proof of this all one needs to do is listen to the top 20 competitors of any major international competition. What you will hear is a level of technical perfection that would make even Jascha Heifetz blush. Absolutely perfect intonation, beautiful sound, crystal clear runs and and a very polished visual presence are all there with every performer. And yet most people would agree that something is missing. While these performers are impressive, the audience is left with an empty feeling. Very few of these outstanding players become stars, and even the ones that do still don’t have the public adoration that Heifetz, Kreisler and Casals had in their lifetimes. As great as a player as Maxim Vengerov is, it would be crazy to put him in the same league as Heifetz and Oistrakh.

So what is the difference between the older generation (players from 50-100 years ago) and players of today? To get back to my original question, I think it has to do with what our goal is when we practice. The players of the past were great communicators. They had something to say about the music they were performing. When they practiced their aim was not simply technical perfection. It was to be expressive. Naturally there needs to be a certain level of technical perfection in order to express anything, but what we have today are many players who say very little.

Why were these older players such great communicators? I have several theories, ranging from how careers are made all the way to differences in equipment.

Let me start with equipment. During the last 50 years an enormous change has occurred in the materials that are used in string making. Almost all violinists use synthetic (nylon) strings instead of gut. These strings are more stable in terms of their intonation but lack the beauty of gut strings. Another factor is that nylon strings can be played rather aggressively without the sound breaking, so it is possible to press and make a decent sound. For the cello an even larger change has occurred. The cello now is almost exclusively strung with metal core strings. These strings are at a significantly higher tension which creates a radically different sensation while playing. Most cellists prefer these strings because of there quick response, but they still lag far behind gut in terms of beauty.

I personally think that these changes have had an effect of how we play. You can press an enormous amount on these new strings. This I think has had a huge effect on our ability to play expressively. One of the big distinctions between players of today and players of the past is phrasing. Players of the past pulled their sound more. Today they press more. Pulling a sound with a lower tension gut string is the only way to make a good sound, and it is this pulling feeling that results in the ability to make long, connected phrases. Pressing causes the phrases to be chopped up. This change in string technology is certainly a primary factor in how players play their instruments, and if we want to emulate players of the past it makes sense that we should use the materials that they used!

Another theory I have has to do with the rise of the international competition. I believe that competitions are poisonous to great music making. They automatically put a player in a position of thinking about purely technical matters. If you play just slightly out of tune in a competition you can be eliminated. This drives performers to treat music much more like an athletic event and less like art. I think that a full recital is a much better way to judge a performer. In a full recital a player must captivate an audience with his or her imagination. Of course the technical level must be high, but the level of inspiration must be much higher! If there are some missed notes in a recital it is not a very big deal, which leaves the performer more time to focus on developing a beautiful interpretation. The players of the past made their livings through recitals and understood that expression and communication are far more important than total technical perfection.

I have many other theories about this, but I should stop before this blog gets too long!

To get back to my original question, I think the answer lies in keeping expression in mind when we practice. Practicing can seem like a very dull thing sometimes, but if you are always thinking of an expressive goal then your practice will be much more rewarding!


You mean I have to practice?

Yes! But it it is not a prison sentence. Maybe you have heard of the 10,000 hour rule ( After many years of reading a wide variety of biographies of famous musicians, I can hardly believe that it is true. Gladwell’s theory says nothing about prodigies such as Mozart, Mendelssohn and Korngold, who exhibited huge natural talent at an age where they would not have been able to have had practiced that much! These composer/performers worked hard, but there is simply no way they could have practiced 10000 hours by the time they were 6. Gladwell also says very little on the nature of practice, in fact he uses as evidence the fact that the Beatles performed all-night shows in Hamburg! Performance and practice are very different, and for him to associate the two and count them as “practice hours” is simply naive.

So how should we go about mastering our craft? The first thing to do is to stop worrying about how much you practice, and worry more about what you are doing when you practice. Sitting in a room and making noise for an hour will get you nowhere. Practice needs to be purposeful! Do not beat yourself up for not practicing enough, just practice smarter!

How do we practice smarter? First you need to clearly lay out your objectives. What are you trying to achieve? When I ask students this question I sometimes get an answer like “I try to make it sound good.” I would hope so! But what does it mean to sound good? This is where the principle of evenness comes in. Most people’s solitary goal is intonation, but I have heard many players play very well in tune but still sound awful. There are many other factors! Are your bow changes smooth? Is your sound consistent? Are you able to sustain a phrase for longer than one bow length? Are your shifts well hidden when you want them to be and expressive when you want them to be? How about your stamina? Are you playing effectively and efficiently? The list goes on!

To practice smarter, focus on fundamentals, and you will find that 10000 hours are not necessary at all!

A note for beginners…

Starting to play the cello can seem like climbing Everest. There are so many things to try and remember! How to sit, how to hold the bow, how to play only on one string, where do I put my left hand fingers,the list goes on! However there are a few things that if overlooked can make the experience even more difficult!

Here are 5 ways to make you experience of learning to play the cello easier.

Make sure you are renting or have bought a quality instrument. This is critical! If the instrument is of a really low quality you will only get frustrated. There are dealers in most areas that will have the best value, you just have to make sure you shop around and compare! Do not simply take the first instrument you see on ebay!

Once you have a good cello, make sure the strings are not too high off of the fingerboard. Chances are that if it is a good instrument then it will also have a good setup, but if it seems like that it is too difficult to get the strings down with your left hand fingers then it is not your lack of strength! Take it to a shop and have the strings lowered, you will love the result!

Make sure that you put rosin on your bow WHENEVER you play. I know there are many different opinions on this, but in my experience one of the things that will improve your overall experience is to remember to put rosin on your bow. Rosin dust falls off of your bow even while you are not playing, so put it on whenever you practice!

Find a good teacher. Do not be afraid to shop around. Many students stick with a teacher for really bad reasons. If you are not happy with your progress, don’t be afraid to talk to your teacher about it. If you are getting more and more frustrated, it may be time for a switch!

HAVE FUN! I know this seems silly to say, but playing the cello should be fun. If you are not having fun when you are practicing then something is wrong. I am not saying that playing the cello is not hard work. It takes everything you have, every ounce of mind, body, and spirit. But it is fun! Do not take yourself too seriously and enjoy the process of learning the most beautiful of all instruments.

I hope this helps, happy practicing!