For the past three semesters I have been in a quartet. Quartet, as it turns out, requires organisation far more than skills, and I was taking care of organisational schemes for the past two semesters (setting up practice rooms, setting times up, getting in contact with everybody). This semester, after our third cello left, a professional instructor came in lieu, and he designated someone else as the “frontman”.

Good, I thought. I’m freed from obligations.

What a frontman does, essentially, collects information, distributes accordingly, and takes actions. So if someone is sick, it’s frontman’s job to tell it to the instructor; someone is missing, it’s also the frontman’s job to contact them and know where they are. They are the organisers of the group; sets up time, reserves room, contacts instructor, e.t.c. Since I was no longer the frontman, I relegated the information (that I was busy this week and can’t do it Wednesday or Friday) to our new frontman.

Well, as it turns out, our new frontman did NOT inform the instructor. And now the instructor is pissed off. Apparently he wants me to quit.

So I shall.

That opens up two hours during the week, not to mention I get to go home at 3:45 – ish on Fridays. And do homework. And other things that demand my attention.

They can try to find someone else.

I got my new Evah gold. It costs an arm and a fortune. I think I’ll need to take out a mortgage.

I haven’t strung it yet, but I’ve heard rumours that it sounds “amazing”. Wonder how. I do need a brighter G. My E’s gold, and D and A are bright enough, but G has a tendency to sink.

Last Rose of the Summer is killing me. It took me an entire day to write out the chords on Sibelius so I can just practise the chords first. Then the ricochet.

Summer’s already 1/3 gone. Wow.

Rosin makes a world of difference.

Seriously. My eyes have been opened. Hello, Pirastro. Goodbye, Paganini.

Recently I have been wondering why my bow wasn’t resonating as I wanted it to. My vibratos weren’t getting through, my resonating pitches fell flat, and the double stops at the frog sounded squeaky and forced.

Now, my boyfriend uses Evah and my lover (?!) uses Tonica, and while I was browsing JS Fisher I found that Pirastro actually manufactures rosins tailored to these string sets.

OMFG OMFG MUST GET NOW!

After a quick permission, I purchased them, and it came in mail today. As I’m practising Tchaikovsky after leaving it alone and forgotten in some dark corner of my music cabinet for seven years, I applied the rosin, and played the intro.

OMFG. Is that really me?! Actually, is that really my bow?! My bow glides effortlessly, while the sound is richer, more vibrant. The traction’s better. I need to force less. The sound’s more powerful, the higher registers more smooth, the lower registers sweeter.

Being a conzertmeister ensures you do one thing: practise.

I’m starting Nel Cor Piu Non mi Sento and Ernst’s polyphonics. My hand is going to die.

The concert series is over. And boy am I glad.

A lot of us – that is, anyone who is a performer on stage – always wants a solo, be it ballet, violin, or jazz. And it’s understandable, I think. You get all the flowers, all the attention, all the laudatory comments (and then some)… you get to be the princess for the night.

Unfortunately, not quite so for me. My hands get cold to the point they are freezing. My breaths become shallow, my heart rate soars. There is a flutter of excitement, apprehension, and fear. I want to run away. And I can’t. I need to smile. Go out there. Face the audience. Give my best.

I can’t count how many times I’ve been on stage, whether it be a small recital or concert series. And yet I have stage fright. On the other hand, it’s exhilarating. It’s exciting. It’s sort of like a drug.

I’m also fairly certain my teachers won’t be impressed with my performance. They never are. They always expect more, for some reason. “You can do better” seems to be their motto for me…