Italy Fermata 11: Cremona
Tl;dr: leaving town without becoming a better cellist
It was an ambitious plan, coming to Cremona. A few years ago, I decided I wanted to learn to play the cello. I am not sure what the final push was for choosing that instrument. If it was the character of Stephen Maturin in Master & Commander, who being not only a doctor and a spy, could also play while sailing on a fictional 19th century frigate; or if it was Zoe Keating, who samples echoes of herself and creates a one person chamber orchestra; or (I am ashamed to share), a desire to play Bach’s Prelude #1 (that is such a cliched reason - I am sure adult cello teachers roll their eyes every time somebody books lessons with them to learn to play with Prelude #1). Anyway, I rented a cello, took some lessons and added even more structure to my home days with at least a half hour of practice. Starting with the basics. And even after a couple years, continuing on with those same basics. I think I was improving. But I was still cheating and looked at the numbers above the notes that indicated fingering. Some notes just never sounded right. I couldn't get a vibrato going, and I was lacking musical interpretation, mechanically right, spiritually flat. But I was consistent. I was so diligent even the neighbours noticed. They would commend me on my regularity at every opportunity we encountered each other. One neighbour even setting up misguided plans for a concert in the neighbourhood parking lot.
The plan in getting myself to Cremona, the birthplace of craftsmanship of European classical string instruments, was to force a leap in my cello playing. Maybe just walking the town for a couple of days, I would inhale some inspiration. That through osmosis, my exposure to all the cellos of Cremona would fix my vibrato, have me read bass (and tenor) clef, give me classical soul while playing, and get me ready for my neighbourhood concert. My airbnb host, whose brother or cousin is a luthier, seemed a bit disappointed that I wasn't a professional string player of some sort. She recalled fondly of one of her recent guests, who was a concert violinist, and had to practice for his concert in her flat. The flat is on the 2nd floor of one of those typical old low Italian apartment blocks shaped in a circle that overlooks a courtyard (where I could finally hang my travel clothes to dry after doing a proper laundry cycle for the first time in a week) so the sound travels. Anyway, the host got a call from one of her neighbours asking her if she could tell her guest to rather just practice in the courtyard so that they could enjoy the music at its full volume. Now that’s a neighbourhood concert.
Cremona is of course still the place to get your cello. In the Violin museum off the centre of town (it is also the cello museum, and the viola museum) - there are exhibits of the most famous cellos that were made here, along with a directory of all of the luthiers, from the families that began with the lutes to the people who came from different parts of the world to learn the craft and takeover or open their own trade. Walking through the town, you can see the shops - some possess a quality that feels like it reaches back to the beginnings of the trade, while others are more modernised with a whole sales team. I suppose the demand is greater today than it was when classical music was popular music. I had seen social media videos of professional cello layers coming to Cremona to order a custom instrument, and then coming back months later to pick up their cello, while booking an extra seat on the way back to make sure the cello does not get damaged on the way home (not sure if one can take the cello’s extra meal/drinks). I wasn’t really going to buy a cello, though I did walk into a central tourist/agent office, the one that connects you with the luthiers (a union of luthiers), just to ask if they had any summer specials? Turns out you can get it for half the price if you ask an apprentice. The lady who assisted me was kind enough to talk me through the process of what happens, but based on my lack of experience, laughed off any suggestion of even sharing the price of a cello.
Ahead of arriving, I had seen that there was some kind of music festival taking place and ensured that my visit coincided with this. I found the address for the evening’s performance and climbed up the stairs of a university building and walked into a modern auditorium. There was something friendly and homey about the crowd, lots of families, people greeting each other, lots of kids running up and down the aisles dressed formally and wearing a nervous energy. It reminded me of band concerts at my international school when I was playing the trumpet (a story for another time). Something was dawning on me and when the first piece started it confirmed that this was an international summer school festival where not one of the featured performers was going to be older than a pre-teen. And the accompanists were all their teachers - who may have on occasion been their parents, all from international places - mostly the States. And so I settled in, to watch a selection of duets and trios, with piano, violin, cello and the occasional viola performed by the next generation of the world’s classical musicians.
To my ear, they were exceptional. There is a surreal experience in watching incredibly talented youngsters - the juxtaposition of their age, not only with the age of the music they played, but the mastery of their instrument. Their hands move effortlessly with frantic energy while also being commanded at high precision. Their bodies feel like they are straining with the emotional demands of the musical pieces, emotions for which they have not had the life experience. Their faces are so focused, yet almost surprised at what the performance of the piece is doing to their soul. It is a musical intersection of time. It was difficult not to think that they were miles ahead of a level that I could ever get to even if I made rehearsing the cello my full time job. When I was looking for inspiration in coming to Cremona I am not sure that this was what I had in mind. Maybe it was the perfect thing.
Cremona has a Torrazzo, one of the tallest brickwork bell towers in the world. For 8 euros you can climb it and stop at the largest astronomical clock along the way. You can also learn about the measurement of time, and clocks. The climb, even in the late afternoon, is physically intense, and you can feel the history change with the three different sections, as they were built during different times. Finally with the last narrow spiral wooden stairs you emerge just below the roof, look out and see all the tiny roads spreading out of the piazza, many of them housing the luthiers of Cremona. And you can hear the kids performing their end of school gala in the courtyard off the piazza underneath the tower. The sounds of their strings rise up, and I felt the distance to their music
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Very nice, funny and visually pleasing. You imagine in your mind the author’s « picture « of places and events. Hope the author recovered from the Cremona’s schlock and continued practicing cello!