As the fall colors have come and start to go, the seasonal nature of our work with the instrument comes to mind. Sometimes, like the long green from early spring through early autumn, we experience a stability or plateau in our playing or the playing of a child for whom we are a practice partner; and then, change.

The change can be akin to the sudden brilliance of the fall leaves, or it can appear more like the falling of the spent leaves, leaving an empty space that appears lacking what it had. But our maintenance of the daily practice brings us a cycle that we come to recognize and respect; the visible growth, the excitement of the newness of the next stage, the fullness of its vigor, and the display of its height of glory will all appear again if we stay with the process.

And so will the next stage of shedding, of growing out of what seemed glorious for awhile, preparing to enter the next stage through letting go and being ready to grow again.

Our families, social circles, and most of all our learning communities and mentors are there to help us through each of these stages. Let us call upon each other when we need help, and let us reach out to affirm each other at each stage.

– Lisa

This past week, after Friends Music Camp ended, I traveled to Dayton, Ohio to make a recording that launches a project with New River Ensemble and Minnita Daniel-Cox, a singer who teaches at University of Dayton. I enjoyed the process of discovering the music of a British-African composer, Samuel Coleridge Taylor, who collaborated with the Black American poet Paul Lawrence Dunbar (author of the words “I know why the caged bird sings” that Maya Angelou borrowed). I find a deep satisfaction in using the voice of the cello to illustrate the marriage of words and music. Also, learning the musical language of a composer I have not encountered before proves to be a fine adventure. When NRE rehearsed the instrumental lines alone in preparation for meeting with the soprano, I was afraid the composition of this reputed “Black Mahler” was actually second-rate. Only when the beautiful vocal line was added in did the magic appear.
This sort of musical exploration provides the reason for playing an instrument, and I hope to help bring that fresh excitement to your own musical path this year. I return from summer travels more convinced than ever that the key to even wanting to find that path, much less wanting to put in the daily practice to find each new step, comes from a steady diet of listening to music for your instrument. The listening illuminates the path. Youtube and Spotify are our great allies in making this easy. When you come to lessons, tell me about your listening discoveries, and share them with the studio. When you find what you love, the path opens before you. (Thank you, Rumi, and countless other philosophers and poets!)