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in search of comfort

We musicians accept that there’s a certain amount of discomfort involved in playing our instruments. Whether it’s blisters for cellists doing a lot of pizzicato, repetitive motion stress for pianists, wrist problems for flutists, shoulder and neck pain for violinists, the list goes on and on.

What we don’t quite accept is that this leads to a fair amount of injury. There’s a great deal of avoidance of the topic, as if it might be cancer or mental illness. In conservatory, getting injured is viewed as a consequence of improper technique. In the professional world, it is seen as a career-killer. This stigma on playing-related injuries is apparent in the strange and alternative ways we often deal with them. Where an injured athlete would seek a sports-medicine doctor or physical therapist, a musician will enlist the help of an acupuncturist or a Reiki practitioner.

My own journey on the violin and piano has involved a good bit of pain and injury. I ignored an injury to my right hand, practicing through the pain until I couldn’t use my hand for six months. In college my left shoulder became so inflamed that I couldn’t even touch it without searing pain. Two months after joining the opera orchestra in DC, I had to have cortisone shots in my neck and shoulder to keep playing.

I’ve had years of Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, acupuncture, and yes, even Reiki. I’ve also endured electric shock therapy (just on my arm) and plenty of psychotherapy. For a long time I was convinced that I was doing something fundamentally wrong on the violin. I would compare myself to so-and-so, who has never been injured – what does he know that I don’t? No shoulder rest, a higher shoulder rest, wrist vibrato, arm vibrato, higher chinrest, flatter chinrest – I tried every combination possible and spent a lot of time and money in my search for the Holy Grail of injury-prevention.

my collection of chinrests and shoulder rests

The lesson I’ve learned through all this is that there are two truths that we must face.

Truth #1: it’s possible to do everything right and still get injured. Playing an instrument is athletic, and spending many hours a day doing it is tough on muscles, tendons, and ligaments.

Truth #2: what I do with my body when I’m not practicing is almost more important than what I do while practicing.

After all, I really only practice for a couple hours a day. I spend a lot more time slumped in front of the computer. Even so, I treat my body as an athlete would. The better shape my entire body is in, the better able I am to deal with the demands of playing the violin. This is working so far. Strength training keeps my shoulder girdle and back strong so things stay in the right place whether I’m playing violin or checking my email. And when something hurts, I treat it and stop using it if need be.

my pain treatment arsenal

Have I stopped searching for the Holy Grail? Of course not. Even though I’m not in pain now, I just started seeing a chiropractor three times a week. I’ve ditched my shoulder rest and am currently trying out an arsenal of chinrests loaned to me by the violin setup guru Andrew McCann, who uses a custom chinrest built for him.

Andrew's monolithic chinrest

I might get one built for myself. But I’m no longer under any illusions that a certain chinrest or shoulder rest is the key to never getting injured. While I can make playing the violin more comfortable to a point, I accept that it is inherently an awkward endeavor – the only magic fix is to quit.

Posted 01 February 2012 † Yvonne § eighth blackbird ‡ Comments (0) °

meet the composers

Our recent composers competition required us to quickly become familiar with the works of three composers we had never played.  We spent hours rehearsing and putting together their pieces, and while we did have some correspondence via email with them, we didn’t really know what they would be like in person.

My curiosity got the better of me and I kidnapped Kurt, Andy, and Eric during the workshops for a little chat.  (If you’re wondering why there’s a soap dispenser in the background, that’s because the only space we could find was inside a small dressing room next to the toilet.) Unsurprisingly, they were all charming and intelligent, but as different from each other as their pieces were.

 

 

 

Posted 22 December 2011 † Yvonne § Composer chit-chats § eighth blackbird ‡ Comments (0) °

the upside of quitting?

I am not a quitter.

Okay, that’s a lie. That’s what I want people to think of me.  That’s what I’d like to think of myself. The truth is, I have immense shame about my lily-livered quitting nature. From a very young age, my mother has admonished me for quitting:

“You always give up so soon! I hate quitters!”

My mom’s right.  She especially likes to tell the story of how I would have quit the violin if it weren’t for her, and now I’m a musician. (Actually, I’m only a musician because I gave up on studying for the SATs.) When I was around twelve years old, I begged tearfully to quit the violin.  My mother, seeing my tragic flaw rearing its ugly head, repeatedly refused. When I persisted, she said I could quit only if I also quit the piano. That gave me pause, because I loved piano. But after some thought, I decided to take her up on her offer, only to discover that it had expired.  I imagined myself the victim of unspeakable abuse and spent the rest of my adolescence punishing her in my head. That might be the only thing I haven’t quit.

As fate would have it, I ended up developing a deep love for the violin, and made the choice to quit piano in my sophomore year at conservatory. Most recently, I quit my job as Assistant Concertmaster of the Washington National Opera in order to join eighth blackbird. This job was supposedly the culmination of all my efforts: a title position that paid the bills, that my mother could brag about, and that didn’t demand very much of my time or energy. I lived in a great city, had a nice condo, boyfriend with a dog, dinner parties with friends. Why would I want to quit?

Recently I listened to a Freakonomics podcast with the same title as this post.  I knew the title was provocatively spun in the way health and fitness magazines cover titles often are (Lose your gut while drinking all the beer you want!), but I was curious anyway.   Perhaps I would find some rationale for my lack of perseverance, some brilliant psychological advantage it gave me.  The first segment was a story about a woman who left a desk job earning $70k for a life as a high-end prostitute making over $300k.  Then there was a statistic about minor league baseball players earning 40% less 10 years after high school than those who never pursued baseball.  At the very least, quitting was looking like the smart thing to do if you cared about your bank account.

When I agreed to audition for eighth blackbird, Nick asked to have a conversation with me over the phone.  He asked me repeatedly why I would even consider quitting my cushy opera job – didn’t I know that I would be working much more and making less? Plus there was no guarantee in this quasi-freelance world.  Was I in a relationship? I’d never see my partner. Planning to have children? I’d better think twice. He seemed to be trying to scare me out of auditioning.  He might as well have offered me money not to audition, which, according to the Freakonomics podcast, is exactly what Zappos.com does.  One week into their employee training session, they make an offer: $3,000 to anyone who wants to quit, no strings attached.  Surprisingly, only 10% of trainees take Zappos up on this offer, even though it represents two months of pay at $11/hr.  When asked why they turned down the money, the trainees said,

“This job is worth a million dollars.”

Bring in the expert, please.  He (Dan Ariely, a behavioral economist) says, “This is about cognitive dissonance.  If you’ve acted in a certain way, over time you’re going to overly justify your behavior.” Meaning, once you’ve turned down the money, you’re going find all sorts of reasons to love your job. We like to suffer, and if we suffer for something, we will decide we love it.  If you think this is crazy, think about fraternities, the military, sports teams, religious cults – they all use this tactic. By the way, this segment ends with one trainee taking the money because she thought Zappos was too cult-like. The afore-mentioned prostitute ends up quitting her lucrative lifestyle because she falls in love. The whole podcast ends with two women who have finally quit their cultish religions to lead normal lives.

Oops.  Is it possible that I have joined some sort of new-music cult? Maybe I should have listened to this podcast before I quit my job, although I’m probably even more confused about quitting than before. Sometimes we don’t quit soon enough, sometimes we quit too soon. You can’t tell which is which until after you’ve made your decision. Whatever the case, it’s too late for me. I’m deep into my decision to join eighth blackbird and now I’m going to find all the reasons why it’s the right one.  I don’t have to look very hard.  I get to vote on what we play. I get to be onstage instead of in a pit. I no longer have to wear all black. I get to play viola — wait a minute…

Posted 09 December 2011 † Yvonne § eighth blackbird § Inside our heads ‡ Comments (3) °