Interlude and adventure

Two days ago (Thursday Sept 29), Dan (guitar/harmonica/vocals), Justin (percussion/vocals) and I (violin) played at Pasta Moon in Half Moon Bay.   Imagine hardwood floors; clean, cube-and-rectangle chairs and sofas; one row of gauzy white film drapes hanging from the ceiling.   I love this place.   The group listening included smiling couples; best girlfriends in glamorous poses; a solo guy who said he had the same guitar as Dan; and the drinkers at the bar.

Fast forward to midway through our set.  Justin and Dan gave me more and more room to solo; egging me on with the tilt of the head, the strumming of the guitar.  Now normally I can improvise all over the place.   But this was only the second time since high school that I had performed using this violin.   After my solo I whispered to Justin, "It's challenging to solo right now...I have changed my setup."  "Oh, you changed your strings?"  "I changed everything.  Different violin, strings, pickup, chinrest, preamp, cables."

After each of the first few songs, Marc (my French-fiance-and-music-critic) walked up with a polite but determined air to recommend adjustments to the sound.    Regarding any matters of taste, Marc is one of the most honest people I have ever met.   I appreciate this.  Marc says "yes" or "no" without sugarcoating, whenever I try out a new harmony offstage.    This time, Marc pointed out rasps we did not hear; and made a few 1-millimetre volume adjustments.  Apparently, "ca fait toute la difference."

Marc loved the smooth sound created by the new pickup and preamp, but he wondered why my solos were so sedate.  "It's not like you...what others love about you playing violin is that you are so great at improvising.  But tonight you did not."  I confessed my struggles with the new fingerboard and string action.  I will see if this violin eventually feels more comfortable.  If it does not, I will replace it.

For me, music is both an interlude (from work) and an adventure.  You play on stage where everyone can hear you; you meet people you'd never have met; you experience different venues, from festivals to old-time bars to cool restaurants; you try different sound setups, new songs, alternative harmonies; and you adjust as you go.   And in this and other aspects of my life, I keep re-discovering that taking some risk leads to relaxation.

At the end of the night, we all sat down at a table and melted into the chairs.    I can attest that the cod was succulent.  The others reported that the arugula pizza was just the right combination of health and sin; veggie and crisp crust; green and salt.