My Musical Pathway
I find it interesting… exciting… puzzling… even a little giddy-making, to be at this stage in my life.
When I was a teenager, I thought I’d be the best cellist in the world and perform everywhere. I’m guessing there were a lot of college freshmen with the same dream. But I quickly learned that after being a reasonably big fish in a small high school pond, I was now just one small fish in a much larger pool.
If I’d known back then that I didn’t quite have the chops to make it as a top-tier soloist… well, I might have hesitated. But this was the 1970s, and there wasn’t really anything else I wanted to study. A college degree in something—anything—seemed better than not having one at all. Tuition at my state school was in the hundreds (not thousands!), so I went for it. I studied hard, practiced constantly, performed every chance I got—and loved every minute.
A few years later, I passed the admissions jury for the Manhattan School of Music and had a shot at graduate school. But by then, I’d spent some time earning a living, and the idea of giving up that income to return to the life of a broke student just didn’t appeal. The scholarship they offered wasn’t enough to bridge the gap, so I took it as a sign—it was time to be practical. I went and got a “real job.”
And I don’t regret it. I’ve had a satisfying career outside of music, and I never stopped playing. I kept studying, kept performing here and there. But in the last few years—since I retired—I’ve been giving full-length concerts in proper venues, collaborating with other musicians, and tackling truly challenging repertoire.
My audience has grown too—from the 50 or so people you can squeeze into someone’s living room to 150+ in beautiful spaces with great acoustics and affordable rental fees. This winter, I went from doing one concert a year to two. That means I’m now working on two programs at once, which pushes me to use my practice time wisely. It’s a challenge—but one I welcome.
Because I’m happy. Really happy. It feels like the reward for years of careful planning, steady practice, wonderful teachers, and the good fortune of finding an excellent pianist to work with. I didn’t become the best cellist in the world—but I’ve become the best version of the cellist I’m meant to be. And that’s more than enough.