Yesterday evening, on my day off, I went to play a rehearsal. I didn't get paid and I didn't play the bass. The secret premise was a surprise-going away party for the SF Symphony's former Principal Bass, now retired, and his wife, also a bassist. They are moving from the Bay Area up to Washington State. Both of them have been playing for quite a while in a musical group in Berkeley called The Really Terrible String Orchestra (RTSO). This is an ensemble where the musicians play string instruments that they cannot play with any sort of skill. Both MB and his wife play violin in this group; in fact, MB is the Concertmaster. I came with a violin as well, thinking how hard can this be? I started on violin as a fourth-grader, but hadn't picked one up in 40 years. I remember where the notes are and the coordination is basically the same. But much to my chagrin, not only could I not find the right pair of glasses to wear, (the music is much closer than when playing bass) but because of the thick callouses on my left hand, I was unable to feel the strings. On top of that, my bow hand would not cooperate. Fortunately, I was seated in the second violin section, but let me just say, I might as well have been trying to play the Tchaikovsky Concerto. My main problem was trying to isolate the two middle strings, A and D. As long as my bow was on the outer two strings, E and G, I did a barely acceptable job. But trying to play on just one of the inner strings at a time was for me, the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest: it felt like I was in the Death Zone. I certainly could have used a canister of oxygen.
The only skills I had to fall back on were being able to minimally follow the conductor and, with great concentration, to keep a fairly steady tempo. But I must say, I now have the greatest respect for anyone over the age of eight and a half who is attempting to learn a string instrument. My husband, who had brought me a violin from his music store, asked if I were going to practice. "Heck no!" I responded. "You're not supposed to." But in retrospect, I think that would have been a good move on my part. There is so much to think about at once, particularly in this orchestra. We were not playing elementary school pieces, but actual works for string orchestra by serious, if obscure, composers. At one point, the conductor asked that we try to play a little more in the correct style of the piece. "You mean the style of playing on the right string?" I quipped, only half in jest.
Scott, the SF Symphony's current Principal Bass attended the rehearsal as well. He brought his wife's cello, which presented a litany of other problems. Yes, it is played vertically and the hands are in roughly the same positions. But the strings are not the same and they are tuned in fifths, not fourths, as on the bass. And though bigger than the violin, it is so much smaller than the bass. Nevertheless, Scott seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly and was a great addition to the evening's entertainment.
When it was time for the break, we all went upstairs to the Fellowship Hall where dozens of friends and family were secretly waiting for the right moment to jump out and yell "Surprise!!" The two guests of honor were duly caught off guard, and much merriment and knoshing ensued. A lovely photograph of sailboats against the Golden Gate Bridge was presented and signed by everyone. Intermission lasted until 9:00 PM, and so there was no more time to play music. Who knows? I may attend another rehearsal. But one thing is for sure: my hat--and bow--go off to anyone trying something new.
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