A Love Story

Let me tell you a story.

It's a love story :)

When I was the ripe old age of 8 years old, my loving parents placed me under the care of a very qualified piano instructor. For many years, I begrudgingly practiced my instrument.

I. Hated. Practicing.

I began to hate piano. 

Bless it's dear soul........

The beginning was amazing. I had begun to understand music, and actually become good at it. However, I also saw the other pianists in the same studio. They were much better. I knew I would never be a great pianist, even though my rose colored glass wearing parents and grandparents were convinced I was the next Rachmaninov, I knew it was a lost cause.

Around these parts, we have an orchestra program which starts in the 6th grade.

Now, I knew nothing of the orchestra. 

Yes, my mother played violin, but at this point, I was oblivious of that. She hadn't touched her violin in many years. 

However, despite my lack of education on the matter, when I was in the 5th grade, I KNEW that I had to be in orchestra. Don't ask me why, or where this even came from. I just knew. And, due to my lack of knowledge, I figured I could just play the piano in orchestra. True, orchestras sometimes use a pianist, but not all of the time. In fact, they seldom do.

So, 6th grade came, and time to sign up for orchestra. The teacher came and gave a demo on each of the instruments. Violin, Viola, Cello, Bass. I was giddy with absolute excitement! As I think about it, I don't even know why!

Anyway, after all of the demos, I went up to the teacher, and expressed my plan to just be her pianist. She informed me that she did not have need of a full time pianist. 

I was secretly glad, because after seeing the instruments, I had a giant, giant hope to play one. 

It was probably the first time in my life I actually dreamed. A real dream, you know? 

When I was a child I wished for a pony every time I blew out the candles on my birthday cake, but this was real. This was my real life pony.

I immediately Identified with the cello. Why?

Well.

My mother and sister played violin. I absolutely could not copy them. Plus I saw the violin as a weaker instrument. Viola, was just like violin. And bass was too big even for me.

So, that left the cello.

But it was more than just that. It was some sort of connection, of something that had always been a part of me, I just didn't know it.

So, I went home. Told my parents. Where I found the courage to do that, I have no idea. Because that is a HUGE request, and I was a shy, very conscious child who would have never done that normally. It was just one of those things I knew I had to do I guess.

Well, my loving parents, looked at me thinking about the money that would take. The were probably scratching their heads inside, and trying to talk me out of it.

Well, my Dad called Summerhays music. They had a cello. One cello. So, we rushed over. 

We walked in and told the lady at the desk of our intentions. She immediately went to the back and pulled out a black, curvy case as she started explaining and speaking of cellos and string instruments. 

I honestly don't remember anything she said or what she even looked like, I was already lost in cello world. 

I remember when she finally peeled away the cello case, (a cello sleeve really. Student cellos have pathetic cases.) 

I was instantly in love. The cello had a red tint to the wood, and it was absolutely gorgeous!

MMMM so scrumptious! 

It was like, I was already talking to the cello. It was like one of those body language conversations you have with someone across a sandwich shop with your eyes or something like that.

She finally had me sit down and place the cello in playing position, and actually hold the cello.

OH WHAT RAPTURE!! 

I never wanted to let go, and I honestly never have.

That was my first love. Paul. Lovingly named after my favorite Beatle, Paul McCartney. Though, he didn't get that name for a while. It takes a while to form a bond with an instrument, but once it's formed, it is probably the strongest bond anyone has with an inanimate object in the world. Okay, maybe people have a similar connection with their cars, but instruments win in my mind.

I remember one day sitting in orchestra. Many things came very easy to me in orchestra. I already read music, and all of that jazz, so I was fairly bored. And being bored with a cello, you just kind of think to yourself and mess around on your instrument that's as big as you.

Well one day, I was sitting their as my teacher went through and tuned the instruments in the class. I saw my teacher, and I thought, "Wait a minute. I can literally do this for the rest of my entire life."

Before this, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. Literally, I had no desire to be anything at all. Maybe an artist, but that isn't a very fruitful form of income.

For once in my life, I knew for an undeniable fact what I wanted to do. And I can honestly say, I have never looked back.

I played Paul for many years. 5 to be exact. He was a great little cello, bless his dear heart :) He was like me. Not perfect, still learning, and had his many quirks. His A string when played open in its natural form had a very distinctive "poing" sound, due to his bridge being made too high.

Paul and I grew up together.

As the years went by, My passion for the cello grew. Exploded more like. I was more and more disenchanted with the piano, which I was still taking lessons for. 

However, in 7th grade, all of these new things I was wanting to do with my life became more and more confirmed. My teacher awakened in me more and more possibilities. We played quite difficult repertoire for little 7th graders. My friends were all mostly in orchestra. They also confirmed my convictions.

One day. I did it. I took my tapes off.

Every beginning string player is branded with stickers and tapes. They lack the muscle memory to not look at their hands, so stickers are placed on the finger board to help them know how to play in tune. 

I realized one day, I would not move forward if I left them on.

So, off they came. And I played a little ditty without my tapes to commemorate the occasion.

When I was in 8th grade, I came to my parents with yet another earth shattering proposition. I had wanted private cello lessons for some time. My parents decided to enroll all of their children in music lessons at the age of 8. The original plan was to enroll all of them in piano at that age. (Which I endorse for many,) However, my younger sister refused to play piano, so she had gone straight into violin. 

I must confess I was somewhat jealous. Okay, A lot jealous, because I was still stuck on piano, and I hated every minute. I mean, my schedule was becoming quite busy, so I was getting up at 6 in the morning as an 8th grader to attend piano lessons. Really, I was dragging myself out of bed for yet another ill prepared for lesson where my teacher would just get mad at me for a lack of practice yet again.

One night, at my sister's violin recital, I just couldn't take it anymore. That night I told my parents for the last time I wanted private cello lessons. I got a list of teachers from my orchestra teachers and gave it to my dad.

One of the first people we called happened to be an amazing teacher. We observed one lesson of his just to make sure, but after being thoroughly impressed, the first thing my mother told him after the lesson was, "Book us!" 

I Was SOOOO Excited!!!

Oh my gosh! I finally had a chance at this amazing teacher, and I felt for once that all of these secret dreams of playing in amazing concert halls and doing music for the rest of my life were within my tiny grasp! (Though I'm a cellist, I was not blessed with large hands....)

My first few lessons, I was nervous beyond belief for, my teacher is an older retired gentleman, with a lot of experience, and he can come off as quite intimidating. But he has made me the cellist I am today. 

So, a few years ago. My parents were instrument shopping, Once again. For my brother for a viola. 

Which is totally fine, and their decision, but they went to Peter Prier's....

Let me say that again, They went down to good ol' Peter Prier's shop here in Salt Lake City. 

Peter Prier. That's like the string player's paradise. They made the mistake of bringing me along. I had been playing cute little Paul for 5 years. He tried real hard, but he was on the cheaper end as far as cello goes. So, I was out playing him. Drastically. I was a worse cellist than I could have been because I was playing him. Well, they also made the mistake of letting me try out some cellos on my visit to the violin shop.

My eye caught this one, slightly darker cello. But I tried some other cellos, and instantly knew I needed another cello.

Once again, I convinced my parents to relent. Bless their dear hearts, I don't know how they did it. 

A few weeks later, we made a return visit. Peter's shop is decorated with paintings of all of my favorite cellists. Rostropovich! (Remember that name, he is pretty much the god over the cello.) Pablo Casals, Yo yo ma, So That shop is my heaven on earth. 

Well, Peter took us back to the back room with all of the cellos. I was practically salivating. A room completely full of cellos. That is how to make Jessica Happy. THAT cello was still there. The darkish cello. He pulled a few cellos, and that was one of them. The first one I played was good, a little lighter in hugh, and it's top tone seemed broad. (I prefer darker, more rustic cellos mind you, so perhaps thats why this other cello had caught my eye.)

Well, then he gave me the other cello. It cost significantly more. Of course. My father has always joked at my expensive taste, well it certainly showed this day.

I picked it up, and began doing some rudimentary exercises on the new instrument. Peter was somewhat of a Santa Claus to us that day. We were under his careful care and attention that day. 

At first the cello seemed quite evenly matched, but there was something with this cello. It was THAT connection. That sort of, "this is the start of something..." feeling.

Suddenly Peter chimed in,

"No, no.... Play Mr. Schwann, you know that, don't you?" Of course I knew "Mr. Schwann". This was peter's cute German accent showing itself, He was talking about "The Swan" by Camille Saint-Saens, which is one of those beautiful staple pieces amongst cellists. And it was about to become our song.

It is a slow piece with very high shifts and notes. Well, as soon as I tapped into this cello's tone, He opened, like a book falling to a page, or some sort of mechanism engaging, This cello opened up. His already full tone absolutely blossomed when I played him like that. 

I think at that moment, we both fell hopelessly in love. We fell into a trust that will last for a very long time. Immediately, that was my cello. We opened up to each other. We accepted some sort of oath, and accepted each other as we are and were. It was love at first sight, and now, at first sound. The Swan will forever be Our Song. 

Antonio. That's his name. It came within about 3 minutes of getting home.

Tony is really his name.

Made in 1994, West-Germany. I have fantasized many times about Tony's life before me. I'd like to think he slipped from some virtuoso's grasp, gently into mine.

When I got him, he had his quirks too. He had a giant scratch on his back. Poor guy. Some unknowing user had scratched the back with a button or something on his shirt. So, I had to give Tony back for a few days to get it all fixed up. He still has a scar, but I just call it his battle wounds ;) 

A cello usually takes a while to break in. It just does. Much like a horse, Cellos will buck you off a lot in the beginning.

My teacher played Tony when I first got him. We walked into my lesson proclaiming we had purchased a new cello.

"You did what?!" Was my teacher's immediate response. Well, Tony passed the test :) Poor Paul did  not have as much luck, but under my teacher's experienced hands, my new friend sounded even more brilliant. My teacher played at the very top of Tony's range, testing the endurance of this cello.

"Wow, it just keeps going, doesn't it?" 

"Yes!" I said, beaming like a proud parent.

"Well, you got a good one."

He passed! 

But Tony had to be broken in. According to my teacher, even though he was an older cello, he hadn't been played that much. But it was my job to change that. I had symphony auditions in a few weeks, so I spent the first few weeks, fashioning Tony to be in perfect playing condition for my audition.

But that's the thing. It didn't feel like I was breaking him in. All cellos are a little different, so it takes cello and musician a bit of time to get used to each other, but I fell easily into the flow with Tony. I had previously had to fight my old cello to get a good sound. Not with Tony, he was gentle, but had the German umph when I needed it. 

So perfect.

Tony quickly became my best friend :)

He still is. 

He takes up my entire back seat. In fact, when I got my car, the cello case came along to ensure safe cello passage would be plausible with the vehicle.

This is us on our 1 year Anniversary :) What an amazing year :) And we are nearing 2 years in a few months. Almost to the day I will move into my apartment up at college. It is really because of Tony that I am pursuing music in college. He made a lot of it possible. 

Oh the adventures we have been on :)

Abravanel Hall.

Countless Rehearsals.

Many new friends :) 

The people are my cello family from my symphony, Brigitte and Caleb. The cellos are Tony's symphony family.

Tigris, (on the right) and Gastone (on the left) 

Tony is very flexible for a cello. He has been many places that few cellos have been. And this is the preferred hold for a cello about town :)

Not even a college audition when his person was sick could hinder Tony ;) Apparently I sounded good, I made it into the music program, but my ears were so plugged I could not vouch for myself on that one. It's really all thanks to Tony.

Even 2 pit orchestras, which are difficult when you play a large instrument. That is where the rest of his battle scars come from. Playing in the trenches of the musical world, but he is a trooper :)

That is our story.

It by no means ends there, it will go on and on, and I can't wait for the new adventures we will have. I have had plans of a cello quartet at the back of my mind for years, and me thinks college may be the place ;) 

Never underestimate the power of a dream.

When I picked up the cello, I certainly wanted all of this, but I thought it impossible. 

However, with enough hard work, (I know it sounds cliche,) but those dreams are possible.

My cello teacher has had many a discussion with me on the value of hard work, especially in the music field. I have come across many naturally talented individuals. Although many say that I am, I must respectfully correct them. 

I'm a normal girl with an insane amount of obsession, passion, and willingness to work at it. None of it would be possible if I let Tony rust in his case. (Or, decay, I'm not sure what wood does exactly...) 

I know many talented people who don't have to work very hard. I'm totally jealous. Because music for me has been a constant job for over 10 years. And it's because of that work, that I am able to pursue it in the capacity that I am. 

So please don't short yourself by getting caught up in this world of harsh reality. You don't have to be the best at something to succeed. Just try, and that will bring you much farther in life than a great many things.

And on love at first sight, It most certainly exists :) 

It happens every day.

Just ask the sandwich I had for lunch. I knew it was meant to be.