Here is Maria Duenas.  She plays inspiring violin on July 10 in London, England.  I’ll be there.

Here is Bruce Kerr.  He plays unknown cello on July 7 in Ghent, Belgium.  I’ll also be there.

We both love music.  We both love playing music.  The quality of our playing differs.  And that’s fine.

***

Today my friend Cara visited me.  We went out to breakfast at Franz Gustav on the Kongostraat.  Delicious.  Far better, though, was the conversation.  We talked about what was real to each of us, what our lives were about in the moment.

Two days ago, as I anticipated being with Cara, I asked myself “Should she be the first person to hear me play the cello in the last 56 years?”  I said no … then yes.

As we approached the apartment building after breakfast, I asked Cara if I should close the windows.  “No.”

I saw a father and two kids sitting on the terrace of Nonna Stella, the Italian restaurant two floors down from me.  “I’ll ask them.”

Turns out that dad, daughter and son were all enrolled in the Poel music school, exactly where I’m heading in September.  They were all smiling at my story.  The verdict from all three?  Windows open.  So be it.

So here we were back inside.  Cara said she felt “honoured” to be the first to hear.  I was on the edge of saying “It won’t be very good” but I declined.  The bow was in my right hand.  My left fingers were ready to press the strings.  My eyes were on the sheet music for You Can Close Your Eyes.

This was the moment

I heard the words “Timid no … Passionate yes”.  And I began.

Yes … the passion.  No … the intonation.  But I carried on.  Playing on the G string in the key of D requires a stretching of the left hand so that the fourth finger lands a semi-tone higher than usual.  I wasn’t getting it.  And my transitions from string to string were strident … bad for the ears.

I glanced over at Cara’s face.  It was full of attention.  The sheet music kept presenting notes and I kept playing them, often squeaky and out-of-tune.  I could feel the passion regressing to the norm.

“No!” my brain yelled inside my head.  “Bring it up!  To hell with the notes.”

So I did.

My bow strokes had oomph again.  My fingers slammed down on the strings.  My head jerked back and forth.  The zest!

At the end, did Cara applaud?  I can’t remember.  But she smiled.  Whatever she said was held in admiration for the Canadian guy.

I played You Can Close Your Eyes a second time – also in the key of D but an octave lower.  Notes on the low C string had a deep vibration.  There were new challenges, and I failed some of them … but others I passed with flying colours.

Often in my playing I used vibrato – rotating my finger on the string to create a slight wavering sound. That brought back memories of teenage proficiency.

***

Cara enjoyed my playing. And actually so did I. I played for another person after so many years of absence. There are things to work on … and that’s exactly what I’ll do. July 7 and July 10 are heading my way.

Good for me