The Birth, the Slumber, and the Reawakening of a Violinist

            There were three events in my life that happened and existed with a violin. The first one is my first time learning it at elementary school during 4^th grade, the second being the last time I played it and put it in its box in 6^th grade, and the third being the reconciliation and meeting-again between me and my old woody friend as a 1^st year college student, last October 2018. For this reflection, I want to focus on the general event of me welcoming the 4-stringed instrument into my life.

            My primary reflection begins with the question, “What is violin-playing?” In its most basic concept, violin-playing is the act of playing the violin. It happens when the instrument is rested on the shoulder of a person and supported by the left hand, while the bow is drawn across the strings thus producing sound. For me, and all other violinists, that’s what violin-playing is.

But this act does not occur right then and there because, of course, you will need an instrument. The history of my violin-playing began when my mom realized that there was a solid music program in my school for piano, violin, and trumpet. Although I didn’t really learn it, my mom thought that I already had a share of my experiences with the piano and so she enrolled me for the violin music program at my school, the Digos Seventh-day Adventist Elementary School. So we went to a music store, purchased my first ever violin, and went home with excited hearts.

            I don’t really remember much the specific details from 9 years ago, but I remember excitedly bringing my violin to school for the start of lessons. My school had this thing called siesta-hour where all students stay in their classrooms after lunch, with the doors and windows closed, for an hour of sleep. The lessons are one hour each day, during the siesta hour. I wasn’t much a sleeper anyway and was very much a hyper kid so losing my siesta hour for violin lessons was better than being forced to sleep by my teacher.

            The lessons were, of course, new to me. Our teacher was nurturing and encouraging but the instrument itself was just something hard to handle. The bow can get lopsided so many times and my fingers also mistakenly press on the wrong areas of a fingerboard. But at the end of week one, 4^th grade Charlotte can already successfully play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.

            Every end of the violin lessons at 1 o’clock in the afternoon, I go back to my classroom and sit down for another 4 hours of learning. And each time, I am always excited to come home so that I can play open strings and simple pieces out in the balcony, forcing my neighbors to listen to the shrieking violin played by a newbie.

            After a few months, I already had a decent violin skill at a beginner level. And it was time for me to perform in a recital. As beginners, we were only assigned simple pieces to play on stage, although I had to admit, I was quite a good beginner and was assigned the piece of Minuet 1 by J.S. Bach. I practiced a lot during that time and I can still remember the nerves and scared anticipation I had while waiting backstage to perform my turn. When it was already me, my teacher set up the pick-up microphone on the violin and then I played. It was not prodigious or any close to a virtuoso level of playing but I was happy that I made it.

            The lessons and the recital were synchronized with the school calendar. After the recital, it was the end of the first lessons and time for summer break. When I returned to school for 5^th grade and another year of violin lessons, of course, it would be expected that a hyper child as I who only wanted to play outside would perceive those lessons as tedious and more like a chore than an act passion. So then, I lost interest. I missed practices and didn’t tell my mom about not attending paid sessions. I stayed at the classroom for siesta-hours, not really sleeping, just secretly playing with my other hyper friends.

            5^th grade went fast and before I knew it, the 2^nd recital happened. My violin teacher did not see me improve so he gave me the same piece I played during the first recital. I could not care any less. At least I did not have to practice and learn much anymore. And then on 6^th grade, we did not have a recital during that time. We just performed during the Araw ng Digos and played during school events. Again, I could not care any less. In my defense though, not only was I a hyper kid, I was also a competitive academic during those days, joining quiz bees left and right. So as expected, my violin lessons were indeed overlooked.

            And then came the moment for me to put the violin in its case for the last time. I did not realize then that it would be the last. After all, I didn’t give the instrument much thought because I was pre-occupied with my high school application for the biggest national high school in the city with the most renowned science program. So in 6^th grade, during our last violin lesson, I strapped the violin in its case, secured the bow with its lock, zipped the case, and never held the violin in my hands again. That was the day I put the violinist in me to bed.

            Junior High School began and I got into the Engineering and Science Educational Program (ESEP) of the Digos City National High School. The academic environment was so competitive that because of the pressure, I worked more and focused only on my academics. During 8^th grade to 10^th, I was a top student in the first section of the top science curriculum in our high school. So if you ask where the violin was in the picture, I am going to have to answer nowhere. My violin was in its box, at home, infested by bugs, as I persevered in school. Again, I could not care any less. Music is out, academic competition is in. Real fast-forward to senior high school graduation, I ended up being the salutatorian of the 4, 000 high school graduates of the University of Mindanao Davao. I had achieved great leaps in my academic life already but there is still a void—a void that was once filled by music, art, and melodies. It was time that I realized, I wanted to wake up the sleeping violinist.

This is where my secondary reflection begins. “What is violin-playing to me?”  Violin playing to me is my summon of the decade-old memories I had with creating music and sound and the lifetime memories I have had of my love for this wonderful thing called music. All throughout my junior high school up to now, I’ve always enjoyed listening to classical music, for real and not for show. I frequently played them while I lived my ordinary life day by day. When I reached my first year in college, I realized that I did not anymore want to only listen to those pieces. I wanted to create and make the sound myself.

 It was during the night of October 11, 2018, when I felt that I wanted to play again. I was surfing the internet and looked at violins. As I scrolled further down, my desire to press the fingerboards again and make the bow vibrate the strings got so much stronger. I planned on getting a new violin instead of using my old one because the latter is already unplayable. When I checked to see it on a weekend that I was in my hometown, it was in a really bad shape. The pegs were already very loose that they turn by themselves, the bridge collapsed, and its bow already very thin. It was so sad to look at that piece of wood which gave me the music and the talent that I love until now. That thing was worth a lot to me. I started my journey with it.

            I told my parents I wanted to play again and they were really supportive. After all, they were the ones who introduced me to music. When I was still two years old, my mom would set up her karaoke sessions and she would make me sing, and there, I gained a sense of rhythm then and really just welcomed music into my life. See, the violin is a sleek instrument which produces the most beautiful melody when played with passion, and the ugliest of noise if played without art. It is not only about me or my aspirations to be a great musician but it’s also about my family—my mom who taught me how to sing, my dad who loved to play the keyboard, and my sister who had enthusiasm for both. It’s not just the history of my elementary days playing the violin onstage as a blank slate kid, but the violin is also the history of my family, of my love for music, and of how ugly the world would be without melody.

            On October 15, 2018, I held a violin again. It’s bizarre how the touch and familiarity of a simple instrument can bring memories and feelings that were never really gone even after their many years of silence. I brought it home and named it Cassini. And the moment I got into the house, I unzipped the case, unstrapped the violin, detached the bow from its lock, and held the violin in my hands. I have awakened the violinist from her long slumber. She’s back.

            Bringing back the violinist in me had always been the plan. Maybe, while I was putting back my violin in its case for the last time when I was in 6^th grade, I have also unconsciously created a big scheme for my future to be a person living not only with a career but with art and music in her life. This was a dream I have buried for a long time because it is much easier to get good grades than dedicate your will and power to achieve that talent you’ve always wanted to have. To be an accountant, to be a lawyer, and to be a businesswoman are such sad and boring careers. So I called music back into my life because I know that it is what I really want.

            Learning the violin also gave me the insight that if I am to ever start a family, I want us to be bonded over music. I can teach my children the instrument and let them explore others that they can also play. Actually, if I close my eyes now, I can see a vision of me playing the violin, my husband accompanying me with the piano, and our children singing along to the rhythm of our delightful Sunday mornings.

            Playing the violin was my past, my present, and will be my future. It is not just an instrument that symbolizes my musical talent for it is a lifetime token that my family, my experiences, and I have gifted myself. I want to look at it during my last days on Earth and ask myself, “Did I live a full life?” I have no doubt the violin will play, “Yes.”