The Sweet Spot

I have recently joined a community orchestra after not playing cello much at all over the last year. And I have to say that playing regularly, including home practice, feels good. This is not a metaphor for some kind of emotional satisfaction, though that is present. I am talking about actual, physical sensation.

I have been thinking a lot lately about this physicality of playing music. I hadn't played my cello all summer. Ukulele, yes. Banjo, yes. Guitar, yes. Even some violin and piano. But I hadn't felt compelled to pull the cello out until I decided I was going to get into this orchestra, and started preparing for the small audition required. The first couple days, like any restart of an exercise regime, were painful. I sounded terrible, and my fingers felt like Vienna sausages on the strings. But I made myself get the cello out even when I didn't want to, and finally, after about a week, I started to feel better. By "feel better" I mean that my fingers found the right places on the string, my bow had the right fluidity, I could play with my vibrato to enhance expression, and what surprised me was that this was all actually pleasurable! I had never thought of playing music as having a physically pleasurable side to it, but here it is. After a good practice session, my arms and hands actually seem to tingle with life and energy, my brain feels like if you put one of those brain scan things on it, it would show up all lively blue or whatever color the sign of big activity is, and now the sounds I make are sounds I enjoy hearing.

The cello I own is a 115-year-old French instrument my father bought for me about 25 years ago. When I got it, I loved the many "colors" of sound it could achieve, even in my relatively unskilled hands. Over the years, I have discovered and exploited one feature of its sound in particular. Perhaps this is a feature that other, good cellos share, but I had never experienced it in all the student models I had played before this one. Intonation is a string player's constant nemesis, and having a good ear is not the only tool we have to keep the pitches centered. We must continually monitor relations between fingers moving over strings, training muscle memory to get the fingers to the right places in no time. My cello seems, to my fingers, to have sweet spots on the fingerboard where the note is in tune, and I can actually feel that in my fingertips. Sometimes in loud orchestral music, it is nearly impossible to hear one's own playing, so muscle memory becomes super important. I have found that I can feel when notes are in tune, particularly ones that are in unison or octaves of the open strings.

I have been trying to teach my students about this. Not just the string players, though they maybe have the most to gain from learning about it. I teach all the wind instruments too, and have begun talking to students about what they are feeling in their fingertips, and at their lips. Young clarinet players, for instance, can learn to feel the seal in the left hand ring keys. When the hole is completely covered, and you blow into the instrument, you can actually feel the air moving past the fingertip, and the vibration of the note. Flute players learning to play in tune can feel a sweet spot at the lips where the pressure of air is going strongly into the embouchure hole. Even before a string player is fine-tuning the ability to play in tune, he can feel the fingertips pressing the string into the fingerboard for a clean, true sound. Brass players must learn how the lips feel for any pitch, since one valve combination or slide position can produce many pitches.

Things in which we find physical pleasure (that are appropriate for all ages) might include all kinds of exercise, stretching, holding someone's hand, hugs, eating. I want to add playing music to this list, and draw students' attention to it, both as a means of honing their skills and as a way to keep them interested in playing.

Now it's time to go practice cello.