OK, I'm going to tell you the story of my first real fiddle gig, in the hopes that others will share their stories, whether as humour, inspiration, or cautionary examples.

And I define a "real gig" as playing neither in your living room nor anybody else's living room, but you can define it however you like.

Here's my story:

One day after I had been playing fiddle for about eight months, we got a call from a local church saying that the seniors' group was having a talent show that evening, and asking if my mother (piano) and I could play some duets.

So we picked out and rehearsed four hymns for violin and piano.

When we got there, the audience were already in their seats. We set up then sat in the congregation waiting for our turn to be called.

Later in the show the MC said, "Now we're going to have a poem and violin piece." An old man I didn't know went up to the front then turned to me and said, "Don't you want to come up and play?"

It turned out that he wanted to recite a poem while I played any old thing in the background. I agreed, but since I was flustered by the sudden request I forgot to tighten my bow, which was very loose indeed. Also, I decided to use my muting clamp, which I had never used before, since it would be background music. Once I started playing I realized that the mute blocked my view of the strings so that I couldn't find them very well, and I kept hitting the side of my violin when I tried to find my E string.

The poem he read was "The Touch of the Master's Hand", which is about an old maestro producing beautiful music from a ratty old violin. So I was supposed to be evoking this image, and instead I'm slapping the side of my fiddle with a limp horse's tail. Sigh...

But that's not the punchline. Due to some failure of communication, the MC didn't know my mother and I had something to play and never called on us. So the audience who got to see me set up my music stand, and tune to the piano, and attach my shoulder rest, and rosin my bow... as far as they knew, I went through all that routine just for my miserable "touch of the loser's hand" performance.

I must have looked like such a fool, but I was able to see the humour in it right away. And I did play a respectable guitar piece as well, which helped me feel somewhat better. And there was cautionary example as well - don't try something in performance (i.e. muting clamp) you haven't tried in practice.

More stories?

Marion