My Mission

I love being a violinist. I love everything about it; the instrument, the technique, the students, teachers, friends, and most especially, the repertoire! I find, on occasion while teaching, that I am suddenly pierced with a twinge of jealousy that my student has the opportunity to practice hours a day on a certain piece of repertoire...say for example...Bach's Concerto in E Major, and I don't. The students are the lucky ones, in my opinion. Many of them have a caring overseer (i.e. parent) mandating them to practice every day. If only I had fully appreciated that kind of 'freedom' at the time I was in their shoes.

My mission is twofold:

First, I aim to facilitate the process of instilling a true love of violin music and the violin, coupled with solid technique, in many aspiring violinists. Secondly, I aim to bridge the gap between varying schools of violin technique and pedagogy, and restore harmony to the communities of violinists in which I circulate.

Let's explore these, shall we?

"Shouldn't the goal be to love it?" A wise friend of mine posed this question when the conversation had turned toward attaining perfection in technique. Perfection had been my goal since the dawn of time. Perfection for myself and my students. And it just so happened that I was lucky enough to also love playing. But consider how many violin students don't end up loving it, or worse, fall prey to allowing the struggle for perfection to take its heavy toll on the whole sense of self. They are many.

Not long ago, a friend of mine who had studied violin as a child and was now attempting to pick it up again to play a simple musical number at church, with much trepidation agreed to let me help her. I could sense the anxiety becoming no-longer latent and as we worked together, did my best to reassure her while at the same time, giving her some helpful tools. She later described to me a few of the horrendous experiences she had had as a youth, being constantly on the receiving end of teachers' disapproval, disappointment, and rejection. With tears in her eyes, she expressed gratitude for the moment she realized while working with me that I made her feel like she was OK. Just OK? Her childhood teachers couldn't even give her that?

Learning to play the violin carries with it a plethora of emotional burdens; the self-worth or lack thereof, the struggle for perfection, the struggle to please a teacher and/or parents, the competition, the performance anxiety, the disappointment of failure, the exhilaration of success, the pride of winning, the list goes on. I want to help ease these burdens, and help my students succeed to the level they desire without ever losing sight of what this is all for; Love, in its many forms.

Which leads me to my next point. It can be very hard to accomplish all of this without solid technique. From my experience, people don't love to play the violin unless they sound good. Good technique is essential. But....which technique? I am SO glad you asked.

It's touchy.

And sometimes political.

Everyone I know who is not a violinist thinks this is the dumbest argument ever:

How to hold the bow.

And while I agree that it's a dumb argument, I still lean to one side. Why? Because I happen to LOVE my technique. In case you are not privy to the discussion, I refer primarily to the rift between Franco-Belgian and 'Russian' (aka Golden Era) Schools of technique. Now, if you really do your research, you'll find that the terms we use to define these different schools are actually not strictly representative of what the techniques have always been. There is so much crossover in the history of violin playing, none of it is that cut-and-dried. But for the sake of clarity, I will use the terms as they are generally used and what they mean today.

The mechanical definition of these terms is not for this missive, but in the future I am sure will be available elsewhere on this website. It's mostly the social ramifications I hope to address. I believe it's safe to say that I'm not the only one who loves my technique. The investment that violinists make in their individual technique is a lifetime endeavor, requiring incalculable dedication and commitment. It stands to reason, then, that people get defensive about it. Particularly when they are threatened by a technique that they can not use and don't understand.

In the realm of performance and playing with friends, it's not really an issue. I have Franco-Belgian friends a-plenty. We play together, laugh, and have fun. But when it comes to teaching, it becomes a problem similar to the conflict at the heart of the film Strictly Ballroom. "If you can't dance a step, you can't teach it." And where does that leave us?

I'll be the first to admit that it's impossible to teach a student who does not want to learn your technique. That is, in fact, what teaching is. That puts us all in a sticky situation when students want to participate in events and activities where there are teachers who dislike their technique. Open the floodgates of prejudice, disdain and demeaning behavior.

We have been living this way for going on 20 years. Guys, it's time to stop. I am going to move forward with my plans to educate the public, parents, students, soloists and other professionals, and anyone who will hear, to call attention to the legitimacy and merits of the Golden Era Violin School. I already know I'm not alone. I have hope that we can bring peace to the battleground and open the door for our students to study wherever they please.

We can do this. Let's pull love back into the equation.

Emily Ricks Violin School

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