It’s fascinating (and scary) to express myself in public when my skills aren’t great.  “Society” seems to say that showing yourself musically, theatrically, artistically or athletically needs to happen within a context of excellence, rather than participation.  I disagree with society.

On Saturday, May 24 I’ll be participating in a cello concert in Sint-Michielskerk, a lovely Catholic church in Gent.  Thirty cellists will make music: about eight short pieces, with a melody and three harmonies for each.

Here’s our venue:

You might say that such a grand space deserves professional ability, but again I say no.

Some of these cellists are far better than me.  A few are less skilled.  And future musical growth beckons us all.  What we share is a love for our instrument  … how it can “sing” notes high and low, how it can draw tenderness from our souls.

We had a two-hour rehearsal this morning.  Five days ago, seeing my current musical limitations, I committed to practicing the pieces for two hours each day until the 24th.  (I told myself that I would call our two rehearsals “practice”, just so I didn’t get totally obsessive.)  And so far I’ve kept my word.  I will continue to do so.

I struggled this morning.  The usual culprits: some wrong notes, some scratchy sounds bow-to-string, some misreading of rhythms.  But I was there!  I played.  And I had some fine moments.  During one piece (Jesu, Joy of Our Desiring by J.S. Bach) I was carried into the joy of playing a harmony section to another group’s melody.  Oh yes … it’s why I sit in my cello chair. 

Even though my dream is to sing beautiful songs and accompany myself on the cello, there’s a place in my future for … the orchestra.

Shall we play?