I love how horse hair pulled across a string attached to a wooden box can make sound to fill such a large space. Which can then be blended with other sounds coming from other instruments and people to make a whole new sound, familiar songs, and something to dance to.We played for two hours. And enjoyed it.
When we were told to go get some food before it was gone, we obeyed, and carried our full plates back to one of the empty tables with a pretty center piece. "You know that woman you were just talking to?" Yes. Didn't know her well at all, just that she was the mom of the bride and mom of one of my sister's friends. "Well she seems to think your sister is actually better than you at violin. We told her you are really great, but she had in her head your sister is better. Is that true?"
And then I was six, sitting on my grandma's floor by my closed case not wanting to play. My sister, having finished her family party performance, came over to get me. "You're always better than me."I said to her softly, not looking up. She didn't really know what to say, so she put her hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eyes "It's ok, everyone knows you're just my little sister."
She meant to be encouraging. Kind. Help me see people, especially our family, weren't going to compare us. They knew exactly who we were. They just loved to hear us both play. Which was the truth.
But what I heard was that no matter what I did, I'd always be just Erin's little sister, I would never catch up.
Anyone who has played classical violin, knows what it can do to your self image as a child and teenager. Puff you up, help you feel confident, bring out your competitive side, help you make friends, make you feel worthless, allow you to express emotions in a new way, stress you out, make you question your ability to do anything, force labels on you, motivate you, teach you discipline, help you see you need more discipline, connect you to history, lift your soul, allow you to lift others, be a part of something bigger than yourself, want to crawl into a tiny hole and disappear forever.
This can all happen even if your older sister isn't an amazing violinist. Mine was.
It only intensified the experience, and made me sensitive to things I shouldn't have been, made me feel bad about things I shouldn't have.
For violinists who are reasonably good, your chance at feeling alright about yourself depends largely on who else is in your grade, or the pool from which you will shine or sink. Will you be first chair? Are you the only one at the top? Or is there competition there? The questions never cease. What teacher do you take from? What song are you on? What orchestras do you play in? What competitions have you done? How many hours a day do you practice? What college are you going to audition for?
I didn't realize this at the time, but orchestra is very asian actually, in that you are tested-- and then seated according to how well you tested, from first chair on down to the last. Everyone sees. Everyone knows.
I wasn't horrible. I liked to play. I was first chair, took from the right teachers, won my competitions. But the violin section was stuffy and made me itch. I decided to try viola in 9th grade. Boy what a switch. Three feet away from that horrid first violin section, and we were happy, relaxed, goofy and largely annonymous. Who cares about the violas? Thankfully no one.
In conclusion:
My sister was and is incredible. She is someone who was born to play the violin. I love listening to her play. I love playing with her. I am forever grateful my parents had us both play. I play violin every day now, concerts many times a month. But it has been only within the past few years that I have really been able to feel ok about myself as a violinist, and truly not thought about others comparing me to her whenever I play. Turns out, they still do.
You know of the secrets harbored by viola players! I love when musicians find the place that fulfills them, because what rises from their fingers, their mouths, makes the world better.
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