Shortly after the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, residents were allowed to return to the area. My husband and I were living in Battery Park City, two blocks from where the towers had stood.
The air quality at that time and for many long months afterward was terrible. About six months after our return home, I began to notice strange vocal symptoms: hoarseness, vocal fatigue, and the development of new allergies. As time progressed, singing required more and more effort when I tried to start a phrase. I looked for solutions while at the same time continuing to pursue a career in opera. Physicians treated my allergies, and I consulted many voice teachers and coaches, but without much success. My singing voice changed so much that it was unrecognizable to me.
After many frustrating years, I was finally diagnosed with paresis of my right vocal fold. Vocal fold paresis is reduced neural activity of the vocal fold. The vocal fold is still mobile, but movement is diminished depending on the severity of the disorder. I feared that I would never regain my voice.
I could not imagine a future without music, and so I began contemplating the possibilities of learning a new instrument—one that I could play well into the future. I have always loved string instruments, particularly the mellow sonority of the cello. I am in complete agreement with those who have noted the timbral similarity between the cello and the human voice.
So, I chose the cello. While I had no professional aspirations as a solo cellist, I did hope to become proficient enough to join a good amateur ensemble.
My choice required serious commitments. First, I rented an instrument for a year of experimental study. The instrument was an old, heavy, clunker that I first dragged home through the Sturm und Drang of a major thunderstorm. As with singing, I had to commit to practicing every day, and creating that time was a challenge.
At the end of the year, I decided to purchase my own instrument. I found a good student-level one made in Germany. My husband and I christened it Marcellino.
A co-worker, who has played cello since childhood, took an interest in my progress. After I had been studying about two and a half years, she encouraged me to join the New York Symphonic Arts Ensemble (NYSAE), an excellent amateur/semi-professional ensemble, in which she played. I couldn’t imagine what kind of orchestra would actually encourage beginners to join. Yet, my friend’s enthusiasm was catching.
After a year of persistent encouragement, she finally convinced me to attend a rehearsal. Then at the beginning of the 2009-2010 season, I e-mailed Tim Hutto, the group’s music director, and explained my situation. He wrote back almost immediately, telling me how happy he was to have me aboard, eventually sending the cello parts for the music for the first concert.
The cello pieces I had played up to that point were notated entirely in bass clef. But cello music is most often notated in movable clefs, primarily bass clef alternating with treble and tenor clef. Material on my first concert would include Tchaikovsky’s Second Symphony (The Little Russian), Borodin’s In the Steppes of Central Asia, and the Paganini Violin Concerto No. 1, with the exceptional young violinist Diomedes Saraza as soloist. Intimidated by the complexity of the music and the notation, I attempted to withdraw, but Tim would not let me off the hook so easily. “Just come to the first rehearsal,” he said.
So I did.
Tim Hutto is a no-nonsense guy with a great sense of humor. Born and raised in Texas, he describes his first musical experience at age five: imitating by ear his elder sister’s piano studies. He studied piano, percussion, and the full range of brass instruments: trumpet, French horn, baritone, and tuba. He spent several years as a music educator, but his developing passion for opera led to the pursuit of orchestral conducting and the move to New York. He made his New York conducting debut with the NYSAE in 2000 and was named its music director in 2007.
At the first rehearsal, I was relieved to find Tim’s baton easy to follow and his manner easygoing and informative. Even still, after our initial tuning, I felt panic setting in. I sweat my way through, sight-reading much of the music. I could sense Tim observing me from the podium from time to time. I felt like a student taking an exam that I had not studied for. I dreaded him stopping the rehearsal and throwing me out. At the break, he politely asked me how it was going, though I knew that he already knew. Recalling the phrase “first, do no harm,” I promised him that if I could not play a particular passage in tune or in tempo, I would not play the offending phrases in the concert. He responded with a dry chuckle, “You got it.” I knew at that point that I had passed the audition, but just barely!
The orchestra was well rehearsed by its first concert. I was fortunate to have supportive cello partners who offered me tips in rehearsal. I found that I was able to play more of the music than initially thought. The first concert was great fun for me, and I was thrilled to be part of it.
The second concert of the season was under the baton of guest conductor Kyunghun Kim, a talented conducting student at Juilliard and one of the young artists that Tim mentors. We performed a difficult program of Grieg’s March of the Trolls and Piano Concerto (with soloist Steven Graff), and the Norwegian composer Johan Svendsen’s Symphony No. 2. By this time, I was slightly more at ease and had established friendships and found a support system within the orchestra.
A diverse group of musicians make up the NYSAE. Many have been playing with the ensemble for more than 20 years. Some, like my friend, have played their instruments since childhood. Others are former music majors who want to continue their music making even though they have not pursued it professionally. Occasionally, as in my case, a beginning player is seeking to perform publicly in a challenging but relatively low-pressure context. All members of the orchestra are serious musicians. Because of the majority of the players’ proficiency, it is apparent when someone plays incorrectly. I find myself still holding back in the more difficult passages, and I willingly sit in the last chair of the section. When I hit a bump in the road, my colleagues just smile at me.
I have had my share of beginner’s faux pas. In one rehearsal, I made my unintentional solo debut when I played along with the first chair during one of his solos. It wasn’t until I looked up and saw one of the other cellists watching me that I realized my blunder. In the context, it was a very civil admonition. I found myself wondering if my opera colleagues would have been as forgiving in a similar situation.
There are, in fact, many similarities between singing and playing a string instrument. Proper bowing technique, for example, mimics good breath support. In bowing, freedom and flexibility in the fingers and wrist are essential to maintain fluid and consistent tone. In singing, as well, excess tension in the muscles of the neck and throat will create a strident and tense sound. Singers are often told to visualize the bowing of string players in the execution of seamless vocal line, and string players are encouraged to bow as though they are singers.
There are also similarities between playing in an orchestra and singing in a chorus. In both situations, excellent sight reading skills are a must. Learning to follow a conductor is vital in either context. An ability to blend with the other voices or instruments in one’s section is also paramount. I have observed that a team spirit exists in both orchestra and chorus in their common goal to achieve a unified level of excellence.
I have noticed a significant improvement in my abilities since that first concert. My increasing ease allows me to relax and enjoy the musical experience. In addition, my cello studies have indirectly improved my singing and my understanding of phrasing and legato.
I never imagined that I would one day play the cello in an orchestra. During my struggles with my voice, my cello provided me with a new beginning and a new inspiration. Through my experience as an instrumentalist and as an orchestra member, my musicianship has improved and I have become a better singer. I am once again finding the joy and freedom of singing that I used to feel as my vocal cord improves.
Most important of all, however, I have been reminded again that it is never too late to take on the challenge of following an alternate path. Carpe diem!
Special thanks to Daniel Gundlach for his contribution to this article.
