The Second Language

       It's like you're poking him in the side with your bow.

       You've gotta answer with like, an AMEN BROTHA.

       And here's where the British come marching in...

       Oddly enough, this all makes perfect sense. You see, musicians speak two languages: A) what ever is splattered out across the staff, and B) crazy. Just, plain, crazy.

       When I was first learning to play viola, my teacher made me walk backwards while I warmed up. She'd have me play with the bow upside down, and make me hold a cracker with my thumb while I did shifting exercises. We'd do yoga, too, and even though they were viola lessons, she'd make me sing. Musical phrases were described as spider webs, or a king's march, or an act of revenge. Notes were happy, or sad, or sassy, and rests were either a coffee break or a mental “UH!”.

       This is how passion becomes translated into music. When a musician plays, approximately 2.7 million different things will be passing through their mind, and while these thoughts zip through the folds of our brain at lightning speed, we don't have time to consider whether or not they are completely sane. Most of the time, they're normal. Don't rush, or get louder are some common ones. But thinking in the second language helps musicians add style and individuality to the pieces they play.

       So then, why should it matter that I play a piano like cotton candy, while someone else plays it like snowflakes? They both add style don't they? What difference does it make if my forte is like church bells and yours is like a snare drum? In some cases, it does make a difference, but other times, the difference is only in your head. For example, the sound of a snare drum comes in short, loud, bursts, while the sound of church bells is also loud, it comes in fuller beats and has a warmer tone. On the other hand, the difference between snowflakes and cotton candy is not so drastic. The second language is important in understanding the difference between church bell and snare drum sound, especially in group playing, but sometimes, it's just for you.

       Speaking crazy in the music world may not be entirely necessary, but it makes playing an experience rather than just a performance. You can play a piece in terms of fortes and flats and those rests that look like hats, or you can play it in terms of elephants and sad little goblins and mental tea time. The second language sure is a strange one, but it helps players decide what sort of sound they want to make, while adding a bit of individuality to their performance.