The Joy Of My Life
The telephone rang shrilly like a school bell – loud, persistent and never-ending;like thunder on a cold,wet, winter's evening. The kind of sound that would send a large dog cowering under the living room table.
Ring, ring-ring. Ring,ring-ring. I grabbed the telephone and said, “ Hello!Who's there?” Little did I know that this was the beginning of a long journey: a journey requiring a lot of determination and hard work, one which would bring happiness along with frustration.
The voice of Mr. Parfitt, head of the music department, boomed down the phone. “ Do you want to play the viola? There is a vacancy available. Are you interested?”
I didn't really want to play a viola. Who would want to play a viola? As far as I was aware only three people out of the school played one, that proved how popular it was! Why would I waste my time learning that large, clumsy instrument? If only I could learn the violin, I could get all the solos. The violin was a popular instrument to play. However, there were no vacancies at the time.
“Don't you have any vacancies for the violin or the piano?”I asked.
“No,” said Mr. Parfitt, “ I don’t think there will be any vacancies for a long time.”
“Yes,okay, I'll do it,” I replied quickly in case I changed my mind. Even though I didn’t want a viola, maybe if I started I could swap to violin eventually. Or so I hoped! I have heard a lot of people saying that once they learn the viola they can pick up violin in a click of a finger and vice versa.
That's how it all began.
My first lesson was in October 2007, four years ago when I was in six Junior. I arrived at the Vivaldi room only to find it was like a small cupboard which was just about big enough for a mouse and its bed. The walls looked as if they had once been white but had not been painted for a while. I felt like saying “ Squeak, squeak, where's my cheese?” like a mouse in its house. This room would not inspire me to be a great violist. It was going to be miserable playing in this small, dingy cupboard. I felt like a nightmare had begun to unfold.
As I stood there, the door slowly opened with a creak. A hyper-active, middle-aged woman burst in like a monkey jumping around the trees searching for bananas. What is this, I thought? My fears started to fade away when she softly said whilst smiling, “ Where's your viola? You can't play a viola without a viola itself! I'll get you one.”
She went out of the room and brought back a pitiful excuse for a viola. It wasn't even a viola it turned out Miss Reid had cunningly disguised a violin for a viola by changing the strings! It wasn't that heavy but it was awkward to hold. Oh, I thought, chapter one of my horrendous nightmare had begun. What am I doing here with this horribly chipped viola? Are those strings real or rubber bands?
“ The rental for this viola is fifteen pounds a month. The school will put it on your bill,” stated my teacher.
Fifteen pounds for that sad, cheap - looking disaster. In my opinion, that viola was not worth even five McDonald's hamburger meals.
The lesson began.
“ My name is Miss Reid and I will be your viola teacher. We have a lot of damage to do in the next few years,” she joked. “ Hold the viola like this and the bow like I show you.”
It was not a happy sound. It was like the wailing of a drunken sailor leaving a harbour side bar as he stumbles slowly home.
Could it get any worse? Oh, the shame, I thought wanting to block up my ears. This sound will scar me for life and even if it does not then it will certainly be enough to disturb the dead. Why don't I just give up now? I'm wasting my time and I want an instrument that impresses. What have I got? A log for a viola.
The lesson passed more quickly than I thought. Then again the lesson was only forty minutes.
“ Put your instrument in your case. We're finished. Watch you don't damage it,” laughed Miss Reid.
How can you damage a log? Logs are made of solid wood. You throw them in the fire during a cold, winter's night which is what I would have done with this viola if my dad did not have to pay for it. I fled from the Vivaldi room like a cat kicked by a schoolboy and went to my class thinking, this is going to be an uphill struggle.
The years have passed like the speed of light.
Four years have passed and I am now grade five in the viola and I will sit my grade six exam in June. I have a beautiful viola now and it is brand new. It came in a lovely, light brown colour. There are no scratches or chips on it. When I play, it sounds like a choir of angels celebrating God's birthday rather than an animal in pain!
The “log” viola has returned to the school and I hope to never see it again. I feel sorry for the person who now hires it.
I now play in the Vivaldi Orchestra and String Ensemble on Wednesdays after school and I thoroughly enjoy doing this. On Friday evenings for two hours I play with the Aberdeen Youth Orchestra. I really enjoy playing the viola. It makes such a sweet sound.
Miss Reid asked me to audition for the National Children's Scottish Youth Orchestra in November. Nervous as I was during the audition, I passed and was put in second desk out of the five desks available which meant that I must be doing something right.
Although it took determination to climb the ladder from grade zero to grade five on the viola and I still have some climbing to do to get to grade eight to be the best violist in the world, but nothing will stop me. No storm can blow me off course.
