I have my daughter, Sara, to thank for my fiddling. We went to see Lord of the Dance, which featured two beautiful blondes clad in black leather dueling it out with fiddles. We were right down in front of the stage and one of them stood above us and played her heart out. Not only did Sara's dad admire the fiddlers for all the wrong reasons, but Sara thought it was pretty cool too. "I want to learn to play the fiddle."

"YES, Mam." I was secretly delirious at the idea. I'd played guitar most my life and the idea of having a fellow musician in the house was music to my ears.

Only trouble was, Sara was only six years old. So I called up the folks who taught the Suzuki method. It sounded like they knew what they were doing and knew how to teach kids. And they had a rather startling rule. A parent must sit in on every practice session and every lesson. Ouch. That's a real commitment. But I really wanted this, for Sara, and for me. And the thought kept nagging at me, if you've got to spend the time on it, why not learn yourself? Who wants to sit there and listen to someone else screeching away? I'd rather be screeching along with her.

So I rented two fiddles, one for me and one for Sara. I found a place that would allow us to apply the rental price to purchase in case we stuck at it and wanted our own instruments. But I didn't go the Suzuki route. She'd been attracted to the Irish fiddling. My focus in music at the time was fiddle tunes on the guitar. How cool would it be to learn fiddle tunes on the fiddle. So we found an old-time-fiddle teacher and began. Instead of a classical repertoire, we would learn fiddle tunes. We would learn in the aural tradition instead of relying on sheet music.

This is an interesting point of disagreement in the world of music. Should one learn to read music or learn by ear? My own experience taught me that learning by ear was the right way to go. I started out on guitar using sheet music and for many years felt inadequate to the task of picking out a song by ear. So sheet music was my crutch, but also my prison, because when there was no sheet music I couldn't play a piece. And for many years I was a very mediocre musician. Then I started making the effort to play what I heard instead of reading from a score. It was hard at first, but I did improve. I slowly created a direct link between the music in my head and my instrument. And that has made me a musician in a way I was not before. Being able to read music is a wonderful tool which opens up all sorts of possibilities. But in my humble opinion being able to play what you hear is where music should begin.

So Sara and I learned together. I was warned by our teacher that Sara would soak it all up like a sponge and soon surpass me. I knew I was a whole lifetime of music ahead of her and that being left in the dust was not a possibility. Our teacher would play a few notes for us, and we would attempt to find those notes on the fiddle. Once one phrase was mastered a few more notes would be offered until we'd learned an entire piece. We'd then take that song home and learn to play it well. Or at least try to play it well.

It was not easy. First you've got to learn how to use the bow. Those horrible screeches are not what you were expecting. Then you've got to hold the strings down with the fingers of your left hand. Do your realized there are no frets on a violin? How on earth are you supposed to find the right note? By ear? Here, you try it. It's not that simple. You're trying to do ten things at once, and you're supposed to be able to find the exact millimeter of fingerboard which will result in the correct tone? How do they do it? Initially I was very aware that I was not playing in tune and that it sounded truly horrible, but I couldn't focus well enough to tell whether that note I had just landed on was sharp or flat. There is a crutch you can use. Lines can be placed on the fingerboard to at least get your finger close to where the note hides. But sooner or later you've got to find those notes by ear instead of by sight. And then the sound is painful. I tell you, fiddle teachers are a special breed. They put up with some real agony to get their students to the other side.

But you do get better. It takes time, years, in fact. But eventually you learn to hold the bow more gently. The screeching subsides. You gradually begin to find the notes and play in tune. Tone is a tricky thing, slowly your body finds the way to make the sound sing instead of whine. But good tone takes years. I once asked a woman at a violin shop to see if different strings would help my sound. She picked up my instrument, played a few notes, and my jaw dropped. The sound was lush, stunning, beautiful beyond words. That couldn't be my instrument! It didn't need new strings. It needed a better musician playing it.

Will I ever be any good at this? I suspect someday I'll be adequate. And that's enough, because the journey has been wonderful. Every day Sara and I sit together and play music. It's my favorite time of the day. I can't always keep up with her. It turns out our teacher was right. Sara is soaking it up, and I'm panting just trying to keep up. But as I watch Sara race ahead, I am not dismayed. I know that most classical teachers would not be willing to work with a middle-aged duffer like myself. Not enough years left to turn me into a quality violinist. But I play the fiddle for my own contentment and am very satisfied with where I'm going. Sara is faster and quicker on the uptake, but I can still pour a little soul into my playing and be rewarded with a returned caress from this instrument I've learned to love.

© Bruce T. Holmes 2000 All Rights Reserved