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Personal Essay
How to Make Peace With the Ghosts of the Past: I Played My Cello Again
And I did it great by debuting in an orchestra
I made an impossible reentry as a cellist thirty years after I gave up playing and studying music. But first, I had to restore my cello after a disastrous accident that occurred twenty years ago. The story is long, but it’s worth reading. I hope you find it inspiring, entertaining, touching.
Ready? Engage!
Prologue:
This day of late spring is clear, and the sun is now high in the sky. The facade of the large yellow building bears the Roman year: ANNO MDCCCLXXXXI, which is 1891. But we are in 1985. And we are sitting outside, under the stern gaze of the statue of Dante, who lends his name to this small square in Mantua, a small city known as Virgil’s birthplace between Milan and Venice.
Low box hedges surround this tiny garden and white gravel cover the short paths. There are no trees, but four green wooden benches around the statue, which the other students and I have occupied. There is still half an hour left until the boring afternoon theory and solfeggio lesson starts at 3:00 pm.
“Move that cello from here, I can’t pass!… Thanks!”
