My violin teacher
After twenty years I found my violin teacher on Facebook. She remembered me, that was one of the joys of teaching, she wrote. In the mean time, entire lives have started: our children born, nine eleven, financial crisis. History has happened. I want to ask her about my vibrato.
You think fingers!
When I was a boy, I took violin lessons. I remember playing Vivaldi in a room with a blue carpet and high windows. The teacher listened and made remarks, most of which to the benefit of my musical development. One time however, the teacher, a woman who must have been in her early thirties, noticed ...