Any critique would be greatly appreciated! Is there enough self reflection?
I clenched my bow, and took in a deep breath- I was standing backstage, a few minutes away from my first solo performance of Vittorio Monti's Czardas. The long hours of the practice that I had been putting in for the past few months would all come down to how I played in these next few minutes. Even though I could feel my hands trembling as I prepared the first note of the piece, I thought of the passionate longing infused into the first phrases of the piece- my favorite part- and as I drew my bow for the first note of the piece, I only thought of conveying that expression to the people in the audience. With the first note I played, I felt the vibrations of the G string penetrate my chest, soothing my heartbeat. A small smile crept onto my face as I felt the subsequent notes fly from my fingers, and my fingers quivered no longer as I played the last D.
My relationship with my violin has been far from easy. The grip of my hand on the bow, the way I placed my fingers down on each string, and my posture were the subjects of thorough examination for the first few years of my violin playing. I was also completely against playing by myself. Playing in an orchestra was a comfortable setting, and no one would know if I played a wrong note among the sea of sounds coming from the group. Solo performance brought a whole new set of problems aside from just playing the right notes- my facial expression, my sound quality, and every single movement of my bow would be heard, even if it was just an involuntary twitch of my fingers. Meticulous, slow practice was the way I overcame these problems. Although it seemed like grueling experience when I was younger, I now realize the value of all the time I had put into practicing, and how it has contributed to my success in playing and performing today. I don't have to consciously think about my bow to draw it straight across the strings. Instead, I can focus all my attention on the details that make the sounds that come from my violin music, rather than a jumble of notes.
Playing the violin has given me the determination to do the best I can in any task given to me. Even if the start is rough, like those tough months of practice when I felt I was never going to become a better violinist, I can look past that and focus on my goals. Performing in front of people with my violin turned my stage-fright into self-confidence. I could run for a club office, undaunted by the fear of losing. Even if I didn't win, at least I had given it my best shot, or I could try again the next year. The violin has molded me into someone who will not give up easily.
I clenched my bow, and took in a deep breath- I was standing backstage, a few minutes away from my first solo performance of Vittorio Monti's Czardas. The long hours of the practice that I had been putting in for the past few months would all come down to how I played in these next few minutes. Even though I could feel my hands trembling as I prepared the first note of the piece, I thought of the passionate longing infused into the first phrases of the piece- my favorite part- and as I drew my bow for the first note of the piece, I only thought of conveying that expression to the people in the audience. With the first note I played, I felt the vibrations of the G string penetrate my chest, soothing my heartbeat. A small smile crept onto my face as I felt the subsequent notes fly from my fingers, and my fingers quivered no longer as I played the last D.
My relationship with my violin has been far from easy. The grip of my hand on the bow, the way I placed my fingers down on each string, and my posture were the subjects of thorough examination for the first few years of my violin playing. I was also completely against playing by myself. Playing in an orchestra was a comfortable setting, and no one would know if I played a wrong note among the sea of sounds coming from the group. Solo performance brought a whole new set of problems aside from just playing the right notes- my facial expression, my sound quality, and every single movement of my bow would be heard, even if it was just an involuntary twitch of my fingers. Meticulous, slow practice was the way I overcame these problems. Although it seemed like grueling experience when I was younger, I now realize the value of all the time I had put into practicing, and how it has contributed to my success in playing and performing today. I don't have to consciously think about my bow to draw it straight across the strings. Instead, I can focus all my attention on the details that make the sounds that come from my violin music, rather than a jumble of notes.
Playing the violin has given me the determination to do the best I can in any task given to me. Even if the start is rough, like those tough months of practice when I felt I was never going to become a better violinist, I can look past that and focus on my goals. Performing in front of people with my violin turned my stage-fright into self-confidence. I could run for a club office, undaunted by the fear of losing. Even if I didn't win, at least I had given it my best shot, or I could try again the next year. The violin has molded me into someone who will not give up easily.