Comparitively Speaking

I believe that one of the main differences between my violin playing and the music of Heifitz, is that he could play a few more notes per second. Who’da thunk, but a few notes here and there make a difference. A different bowing technique, hours of practice, training… cleverness… all play a part in it too. Right?
I was scanning the artwork of Leonardo DaVinci last week. My attention was drawn to the fact that his sketches were pen and ink. Some of his pictures do not contain the fine traces of pencil markings and eraser smears that indicate guidelines for the pen. His sketches were set in stone once the ink hit parchment, and they are beautiful. The lines I put down on paper, including pencil markings, fall short in such a dramatic way of this artist’s masterpieces. The difference between DaVinci and myself is what? A few lines? A different production rate? A few tablespoons of genius?
The fine arts get difficult when we start comparing ourselves to others. Not only do we have our peers to compare ourselves to, but when you reach the position of world renown for your work, you then have the world’s historic musicians and artists judging you through their legacy. Is there an artist or musician who can escape the ruler?
This week I’m playing in a musical. The music is very difficult, and I am trying to rise to the occasion. Today I am working on a section to get it up to the tempo marking of 132. I have it up to 100, which means if I try to play it at rehearsal tonight as is, it is going to flop. It’s just 32 more beats per minute than I have already under my fingers, but it feels as attainable as the stars right now.
I’ve been looking through the notes of the music director from last rehearsal. Most of them say I need to play out and I need more confidence. I sigh as I read these. It feels like the story of my life. I wish confidence could be found in some dusty trunk up in my grandparent’s attic. If you don’t have it, it’s not easy to get.
Well, it’s time to get back to practicing. It is time to let the metronome chirp away, and time to stop thinking about comparison... 132, I’m not afraid of you!... I think.