OP. 3 No. 9, Andante, Vivaldi

I don’t know why I use a chair at all. I always sit at the very edge, leaving three quarters of it free, which is a waste of space. Then I prop my violin under my chin, squirm a bit to make it more confortable, invariably without success, tense the bow and check the tuning. This is one of the most difficult bits of all. If I begin wrong, it’s like tripping on a stone: once I’ve stumbled for the first time, I spend a good while at it. So it’s important to take a deep breath and begin with a clear head, difficult as this last thing may seem… Now comes the first contact. Finger on string one end, bow and string the other end and slide through the first quadruplet gracefully. Then a little pause as if deciding whether to go on or not… The second group of notes has a bit more strength –I obviously decided to go on– and a rich and wide vibrato on the two beautiful quavers that end the phrase. After that, the second phrase ventures forth, leading to a staircase of quadruplet steps, to be walked upon very slowly and very carefully, savouring every note and every colour, and then the end and its trill with its charm and its expectancy. Once the next shy and sweet bit is over, I let my violin play on his own while I listen to the beautiful progression in a tender crescendo fill the room, fuses, trills, bowings, demisemiquavers all together in this thing that says without words what I have inside; it’s a bit like what I my life is: a small beginning and a rush of hope and dreams which will end in a climax of exultant joy and fullness… then a quietening down back to first position, serene, with the same joy, but more tranquil, like a calm autumn evening. I close my eyes but the darkness I see is replaced by the light and sound that comes out of my fingers. Then again the short coda to make sure I’ve said it all right. I have. The last note rings long and true, and I’ve been holding my breath without realising… It is a great responsibility and a greater privilege to be allowed to express such feelings and such beauty. I had never got a sound out of my violin like I have now. I’ve had a faint glimpse of something superior. I’m alone in the world, and it’s hard to come back to reality, but I’ve had a thrilling moment that I will treasure for ever! I will tell my teacher about it, and he’ll smile and understand… He’ll say he’s gone through it too, and that I need a few more years' playing to get hold of it forever. I’m ready… One day, I will play so well that I will be able to let other people share what I have, now only for myself.