There were days when I was bored and lethargic; and there were also days when I was invigorated and somewhat hyperactive. But there wasn’t a day without me spending at least half an hour with my cello before I sleep. Sometimes, I practice to prepare for upcoming assessments and concerts; but more often than not, I just play anything that comes to my mind – be it a chart-topping pop song that I heard on the radio, a classical tune that is somehow stuck in my head, or even something I improvise on the spur of the moment. Temporarily freeing myself from the shackles of schoolwork, I get to capture my floating thoughts in the day, process and maybe dissipate them through the vibrations of my cello strings.
Perhaps music is a journey of discovery.
Often I find myself looking at scores the way an explorer scrutinizes his treasure maps. Indeed, beneath those little note heads sitting on the thin black lines lie the enigmatic messages from composers. Without studying the score, who would have known that Schumann encrypted his own name in his Carnaval and Shostakovich’s seemingly triumphant fifth symphony is actually a secret parody of the Soviet’s oppressive regime? The sheer exhilaration of discovering something, however insignificant, that brings me closer to figuring out what …show more content…
As I switch on my Hi-Fi set on a Saturday night, the music could bring me to the nineteenth century Viennese countryside, where amidst the chirping birdcalls and rustling trees, I feel the joy and wonder Beethoven had for nature in his Pastoral Symphony. Or while rehearsing for the Quartet for the End of Time, I could be brought to a prisoners-of-war camp in the 1940s Germany, experiencing the despair Messiaen had for the world and the redemption he longed for. Where I go all depends on the music and my