One day in grade school, probably 3rd grade, violinist from the Seattle Symphony Orchestra came to our class room. We would be going on a field trip to hear them and he came to tell us all about concert etiquette.
Well, he did a lot more than that. He showed us his violin, talked about how its made and shaped and held and played. Every time he would say something he would tap or pluck or bow a string so we would get it and every time he did it was insane magic how good that thing sounded.
He talked about how expressive and versatile an instrument it is. Then he did something I will never forget. He said, "Everyone close your eyes. Now you are going to hear one violin." And he played this little phrase, sweet solo notes, which all these years later no way I remember what it was, only that it was so achingly beautiful I still get choked up just thinking about it. I mean think of it, third grade, sitting maybe ten feet from a concert violinist. Damn.
Then he said, "Now you're going to hear four violins." And he played another little bit, only this time chords, and damned if it didn't sound like there were four of him.
And then for the next however long it was he let loose. Whatever he played, I don't know, but it was awesome. That close up in a class room, everyone sitting dead quiet, you can imagine the detail, the incredible dynamic range. A well-played violin can tug at your heart strings or make you dance at a hoe down, and this one was doing it all.
Been a close your eyes see with your ears listener ever since.
Well, he did a lot more than that. He showed us his violin, talked about how its made and shaped and held and played. Every time he would say something he would tap or pluck or bow a string so we would get it and every time he did it was insane magic how good that thing sounded.
He talked about how expressive and versatile an instrument it is. Then he did something I will never forget. He said, "Everyone close your eyes. Now you are going to hear one violin." And he played this little phrase, sweet solo notes, which all these years later no way I remember what it was, only that it was so achingly beautiful I still get choked up just thinking about it. I mean think of it, third grade, sitting maybe ten feet from a concert violinist. Damn.
Then he said, "Now you're going to hear four violins." And he played another little bit, only this time chords, and damned if it didn't sound like there were four of him.
And then for the next however long it was he let loose. Whatever he played, I don't know, but it was awesome. That close up in a class room, everyone sitting dead quiet, you can imagine the detail, the incredible dynamic range. A well-played violin can tug at your heart strings or make you dance at a hoe down, and this one was doing it all.
Been a close your eyes see with your ears listener ever since.