Respectable journalist. Terrible waitress. Reckless Violinist. Noir novelist. Longtime contributor at The New York Times. Sign up to follow my cross-platform project about money, merit and music in the turmoil of America.
Take That, Tchaikovsky. I Can Play Again
Good morning!
When I sat down this month to work up the overture for the Nutcracker, it felt like a big moment.
This time last year, I had just gotten my violin back from the shop, and I thought I would sit down and kick out the Nutcracker after 25 years away.
Well . . . it didn't work out that way.
Here's the video essay where I recount what a terrible moment that was -- and how I've devoted the last year to repairing an act of vandalism on my life.
If you prefer to read the piece, here's a link:
"Take That, Tchaikovsky. I Can Play Again"
During a difficult year, it's been particularly satisfying to resurrect the ability to play again.
I've learned some new things, too.
Last month, I finished adapting John Williams' score for "Fiddler on the Roof" for two violin parts. Then I cranked up the video skills to put the two parts together.
The takeaway? Next time I try something like this, I'll record with a metronome.
That said, I was pretty happy with the result.
If you missed it, here's the link:
Thank you all for joining me this year, and I hope you have a great holiday!
I'll be back in January with a new piece from the audition coach, with advice on how to challenge your rivals in Youth Symphony.
The working title?
"DEATH BY MOZART."
Rebecca Raney - The Reckless Violinist
Respectable journalist. Terrible waitress. Reckless Violinist. Noir novelist. Longtime contributor at The New York Times. Sign up to follow my cross-platform project about money, merit and music in the turmoil of America.
Three years ago, still in the throes of the lockdown, I had my first contact with the music world in many years. I was picking up my violin from the shop, where it had undergone a complete resurrection, and a woman in a Subaru started honking and yelling at me in the parking lot. Oh my God. It was a violinist. “You can’t go in there!” she screamed. “You have to have an appointment. You HAVE to HAVE an appointment!” I yelled right back. “I DO have an appointment, for God’s sake! Jesus Christ.”...
I’ve always believed that violinists would make excellent criminals, because every time you play something well, you’ve committed the perfect crime. The difference between playing a note right and playing a note wrong happens in a matter of a millimeter. No matter how effortless it looks, a performance is never effortless. If all goes well, you feel as if you’ve gotten away with murder. I'm back to plotting those crimes again, every Thursday night, with a group of peers. Somehow, I stumbled...
Good afternoon! I’m happy to report that I’m still playing the violin. But I’m definitely pursuing my playing in a way that my teachers would not have liked. Earlier this year, I abandoned plans to dissect two of the major violin concertos – the Khachaturian and the Mendelssohn. If I had pushed forward with the plan, it would have been a very “Juilliard method” thing to do. However, I’ve got more serious obligations than a 15-year-old phenom, so I’ve had to take this project off-road a bit....