The Violin Recital

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Church basement, fluorescent lights, frayed red rug, metal folding chairs—a timeless setting for a violin recital. This is my daughter’s 4th (or is it 5th?) recital with the same instructor. The same cohort of students have grown along with her—literally, student whom I didn’t think could grow any taller, stand up to perform 4” taller than last year. And as the years passed, each student progressed, playing more challenging and therefore longer (and longer) pieces. Consequently the recital length has extended from one year to the next.

Scanning the program I notice the mother-daughter duet has returned. Last year they played a 20 minute concerto. Sigh.

I watch the students waiting nervously in the “on deck” chair. Black flat shoes tap in time with the current performer. Sweaty hands distractedly tap on the instrument.

The accompanist, from her black flats, black pants and black tank top to her long white arms, blends in with her grand piano. She has an uncanny ability to match the drifting tempo of each student.

My daughter proudly announces her piece, grinning broadly. Her performance is flawless to a parent’s ears, although she claims a few missed sharps.

We near the end of the program—the mother-daughter pair step to their places. My husband looks at his watch. My daughter rolls her eyes. Just 4 short minutes later they take their bow. What a pleasant surprise.

And then, like the fat lady singing, the instructor (who is actually tall and thin) performs to conclude the recital. We retire to lemonade, fruit chunks on toothpicks, brownies and chips. Another successful year of violin lessons concludes.