Mandolin

I've been playing mandolin for a little under a year now. I've picked it up firstly just to try it out, and play it alongside the guitar. I soon found it more enjoyable than guitar, and have been playing it... off and on, where I've time, but fairly consistently for just under a year now. I feel I am still a beginner: techniques certainly still elude me (I haven't the ability to play a good tremolo, nor to play fast) but I can at least play.

Recently, I played at a musical get-together with my mother and some of her friends Losing my Religion. I messed it up quite badly, but found that I enjoyed to play it with the music behind me. I still made mistakes, but it felt as if there was less pressure. Oddly, I actually didn't feel emotionally nervous to play in front of others for the first time, yet clearly was, as my hands were trembling and sweating.

I'm trying to learn to read music now, and to learn a few more pieces. It's been very slow going: I've spent months on Losing my Religion and have gone through some emotional turmoil with it. My left thumb gets tight and restricts my playing, and the pain can at times be so unbearable I cannot move my left hand altogether. I get very demotivated. I think this is where I am putting too much pressure in and not assuming a good form, which will of course come with time. The B (?) chord (0-2-5-4 from the E to the G string) often sounds hollow somehow. It sounds trifling, and yet it can be difference between me being satisfied and happy, or me curling up into bed and holding back tears.

I've also realised, gradually, that the mandolin sounds different to me playing it than it does to others hearing it. I hear mistakes physically, and suffer a great pain whenever one occurs; when hearing, the mistakes are often non-audible, and pauses are far less agonising. Many chords that sound unpleasant to my ears are thoroughly joyful to hear for others. Recording myself play, and listening to myself as if I were another has helped this dramatically. I hear it as music, and not as a sin.

I think that I am somewhat past the unpleasant stage, this thoroughly unpleasant first year, where I am simply sitting in my room denouncing myself for my hideous inability. My ability itself has not changed dramatically, yet I am now at the stage where I simply want to play. Of course, I may not manage to play every day: I am quite busy with many things, but I do manage to play at times, and that is all I need. I feel good when I play now.

I think also, what helps is to play pieces that sound good regardless of the skill(lessness) of the player. J.S. Bach's Cello Suite in G Major sounds beautiful, and is fairly easy to play. Even making mistakes, or having unfortunate timing or pauses cannot stop the piece from being beautiful. I am finding that classical pieces are considerably easier to play, and are far more beautiful, or melodic, really, for it. Perhaps it is also that I am used to the style of music, and find it to be sensibly pleasing.

As far as the website goes, I've mentioned the mandolin a little bit, but not a lot. I wrote this blog post about love thinking of the mandolin. I still cannot really say I love the mandolin, even if I certainly am infatuated. Every young love goes through difficult patches. I feel that whenever I try to force myself to play mandolin, I find myself resenting it. Yet, I always go back to it eventually. This is the same as any relationship. With family, or friends, or a partner, you need periods away from them as well as periods with them. You also cannot schedule time with them: you may end up forced to associate with them when you would rather do anything but! Instead, the realisation of this love comes from always returning to them at some point, even if the time spent away from them is concerningly long.

I think I will try to, at some point, upload some recordings of my playing the mandolin. Really, I want it simply to have something to look back on. This first year has been solitary and quiet, and I have regarded my playing as something even I should not hear; I now want to begin to hear the sound. Love is devotional service, yes; love is also reciprocated. To deny the pleasures afforded by love is also not love, even if these pleasures are not the love itself.