Leader/Srings

The strings form the core of the symphony orchestra. Between them, the violins, violas, cellos and double basses have a total compass of some six octaves and have a range of expression unmatched by any other orchestral instrument.

There are many ways in which a string can be bowed in order to achieve a particular musical effect. These include playing close to the bridge ('sul ponticello') which produces a harsh, wiry sound; and playing over the fingerboard ('sul tasto') which produces a more ethereal tone. Bowings can be long or short, and both on the string and off, the latter ('spiccato') producing extremely short notes in detached style. Occasionally, as in the Witches' Sabbath in Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, a composer will require players to use the wooden part of their bows rather than the hair ('col legno'); and Rossini goes one step further in his Il Signor Bruschino by requiring players to use their bows as percussion instruments by tapping their music stands.

The use of up-bows or down-bows is another matter of vital concern to the string player, and is often the subject of considerable debate at rehearsal. Whilst many passages can be bowed 'as they come', there are inevitable musical phrases for which the bowing is a question of interpretation and therefore a source of potential dispute. In hired sets of parts, these passages are reliably identified by heavily pencilled (and often contradictory) bowing marks leading, in extreme cases, to holes in the paper where an eraser has been used once too often. A good conductor and leader always ensure that such contentious bowings are sorted out at an early stage rather than running the risk of wasting valuable rehearsal time.

Bowings are not always left to the discretion of players and conductors: composers and publishers' editors often have their own ideas (sometimes erroneous) on the bowings they believe to be necessary to achieve the desired musical effect. A notable example is the Finale of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 2 ('Little Russian') in which the composer calls for no fewer than 52 successive high-speed quaver down-bows - a searching test of string ensemble.

The ways in which the strings are fingered also have a profound bearing on the nature and quality of the note produced. The shaking of the left hand which produces the distinctive 'vibrato' effect is an important part of a string player's technique; but on occasion, players are required to produce a remote glassy sound by touching the string with extreme lightness to produce harmonics.

Another way in which a distinctive effect can be produced is by the use of mutes. At one time, these were small stand-alone devices made of wood or metal which could be lightly clamped to the bridge as required, thereby producing a much quieter, softer sound. They also had an alarming inclination to go missing when required, or fall embarrassingly to the floor with a resounding tinkle during pianissimo passages; as a result, most players today prefer to use contrivances which locate permanently on the strings near the tailpiece and which can be quickly and safely brought into play at the appropriate moment.

A characteristic of the strings shared only with the harp, piano and organ is the ability to play more than one note at a time, achieved by stopping and bowing a number of strings simultaneously. Double or triple stopping of chords is a common requirement, but the concave shape of the modern bow (developed by the great Parisian maker François Tourte (1747-1835) makes it possible to achieve quadruple stopping only by spreading the chord to some degree. In an orchestral context, multiple stopping is normally only required over individual chords where a composer is seeking a particularly rich harmony; for extended passages, players are more than happy to share the notes between themselves on an agreed basis (playing 'divisi').

‘As a child, I thought music was amazing. I still do!

‘My first experience of music as a group activity—other than hymns in church—was singing in choirs from the age of seven. I also tried out any instruments I could get my hands on and when I was nine I started teaching myself the violin. Three years later I joined the school orchestra. Finally, some months after that, I had my first violin lesson. As well as learning the violin I kept on singing and dabbled with euphonium and classical guitar, but the violin was the instrument I most enjoyed. Later, I went to university in Bangor and studied electronic engineering. But I also made sure I joined the two college orchestras, and continued having violin lessons. I now consider that those lessons were the most useful part of my study there and I still benefit from them.

Most violin teachers teach people how to play the violin. That sounds obvious! But at university, I was fortunate to have a teacher—Edward Davies—who taught a much more valuable skill: how to learn the violin. I learnt how to track down the causes of difficulties in my playing and start solving them, and how to analyse the difficulties of a piece of music and find the best way to practise it. The basic principle was always to find the most relaxed and efficient way of getting the desired result. A lot of work was needed, because most of what I'd taught myself as a 9-year-old wasn't relaxed or efficient! For a while after university I didn't do much playing, but in 1988 I started getting involved in amateur orchestras. A while after that, I decided I could play a lot better if I set my mind to it. But I wasn't in a position to afford lessons from a suitable teacher. So I set about giving myself violin lessons, using a combination of the principles I'd learnt from Edward Davies and the analytical thinking that came from having a science education.

‘Eventually I was keeping a notebook in which I analysed my playing, gave myself exercises to practise and so on. I was well aware that bad teaching does more harm than good, so alongside this I read all I could about violin playing. The Art of Violin Playing (Carl Flesch), The Modern Technique of Violin Bowing (Harold Berkley) and A New Approach to Violin Playing (Kato Havas) were of particular benefit, but everything had to be evaluated against the question “Does it help?” Some things helped a lot, especially Harold Berkley's book. Others didn’t—it’s not unknown for famous violin teachers to make comments which go directly against the laws of physics or which assume everyone's hand is the same size and shape as theirs!

‘I'm still giving myself violin lessons. And I still think music is amazing!’