I have to admit to a certain fascination with the early 20th century. The clothes! The changing times! All things Downton Abbey! And of course, the professional female violinists breaking new ground in their era. Irma Seydel (1896-?) was one of those young women, achieving virtuoso status and making her way as a concert soloist at least into the 1920's.

Seydel was helped along by having a father in the Boston Symphony, who started her on the violin at the age of three. She studied with the renowned violinist, composer, and teacher Charles Martin Loeffler from the age of ten, and later on made the obligatory "finishing" trip to study in Europe (though I have not discovered with whom she studied). Seydel clearly progressed rapidly, and in 1909, at the age of 13, she was soloist with the Gurzenich Orchestra in Cologne. During her career, she was to perform with the Berlin, Leipzig, and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. In America she appeared with the New York Philharmonic, the Chicago, San Francisco, Philadelphia and Baltimore Symphonies, and multiple times with the Boston Symphony.

Seydel often performed the Saint-Saens B minor Concerto, including its premiere performance with the San Francisco Symphony in 1913. The reviewer for that concert wrote, "The youthful virtuoso has spirit, vigor and sympathy. She plays with faultless Intonation and exhibits a rare capacity for expression. She was recalled for two encores, playing Schumann's immortal 'Traumerei' exquisitely."

World War I disrupted Seydel's plans for another European tour, but she stayed active on the home front. The Musical Courier of 1918 (from which this picture was snagged) reported that she "has proved herself as great a patriot as she is an artist," spending two months that summer playing for soldiers and the wounded at various forts and a naval hospital. "Although there were no printed programs," the article continues, "Miss Seydel always played until long after 'lights out in the barracks' on some of the islands. The well-liked violinist and her accompanist, Edna Stoessel, both charming girls, were entertained and chaperoned by Y.M.C.A. men, and created much enthusiasm wherever they appeared."

Seydel also made appearances drumming up business for the Edison Musical Instrument Company. An ad in the May 12, 1918 Reading (PA) Eagle, the Metropolitan Phonograph Company announced a concert at the Rajah Theater in which Seydel, Marie Morrisey (contralto with the Metropolitan opera), and cellist Jack Glockner would "sing and play with and without the Edison, for the purpose of comparison-- see if you discern one from the other." Seydel recorded Kreisler's Liebeslied on an Edison wax cylinder, and later two 78 records (Beethoven Minuet in G and D'Ambrosia Canzonetta). Syracuse University has made an mp3 of the Kreisler recording available here. I love technology! You can hear that, like Kreisler, she uses an almost continuous vibrato. Her approach to rubato and slides are quite conservative for the time. The recording is dated as from 1924.

Seydel married in 1921, an event which seems to have been undertaken in haste. A notice in the March 26 Musical America is headlined, "Waives Five Days Clause When Musician Marries in Boston." The spouse was one William Dunbar, "a member of the theatrical profession." I don't know how long the union lasted, or whether or not it provided wedded bliss, but maybe it's not a good sign that Seydel registered a piece entitled "Dirge" for copyright a few months later. She never took his name professionally, at any rate.

In the late 1920's, Seydel served as concertmaster with the Boston Women's Symphony. She taught violin and solfeggi, possibly at the New England Conservatory, from 1920 to 1937, and is listed in a document of new Department of Music hires for Boston schools in 1946. It seems her concertizing reached at end sometime in the 1930's. 

Besides the Bijou Minuet in Volume Two and the Minuet in Volume One, I looked at two other compositions by Seydel. Valley of Dreams and A Sunset Picture were both copyright in 1927, and are significant departures from the earlier minuets. Somewhat impressionistic in character, both were more dissonant and dreamy. I remember not liking either one very much, but now I wish I could to review them again and see I what I think.

Bijou Minuet suited the need for a straightforward, entertaining piece in 1st and 3rd position. Of technical note is the bowing in the A section, which could be treated as either elementary upbow staccato/hooked bowing, or as "standing spiccato"-- upbow circle lifts that don't travel. The scalar motion in the outer sections lends itself very nicely to learning note/finger placement in 3rd position, in everyone'a favorite key of D major. The trio spices things up a bit with chromatic 16ths on many downbeats. I used the "modern" chromatic fingering rather than sliding fingers. In several spots, a shift is required from open A or E to the 3rd finger in 3rd position. Students can test their growing feel for the location of 3rd position with these "leaps of faith!" Alternations between forte and piano dynamics about every two measures provides great fodder for work on sound and bow control. For it's 48 measures, Seydel's Bijou Minuet supplies plenty of meaty technique to keep a student satisfied!

I hope everyone's had a great holiday! This post features a few more books by Mary Cohen that I happen to have around. There are many more I haven't gotten yet, and urge us all to explore-- collections of pieces, duets and quartets, and even theatrical works suitable for children's concerts. She is prolific, creative, and a brilliant violin pedagogue! 

The first somewhat random book on today's list is Space It!, or "A tuneful introduction to violin second finger spacing." How often students struggle with the mysteries of high 2 vs. low 2! This is a whole book devoted to unravelling the mystique. 

In the publisher's words, Space It! is "a collection of easy well-known pieces for violin. Each tune is presented on a double-page spread in two versions: first in finger pattern one, then, at a different octave, in finger pattern two. Useful hints and fingering charts ease the pupil through each piece and brilliant alien characters are guaranteed to liven up violin lessons." Here on the cover, you can see the ever-helpful aliens, the one with the black cape representing finger pattern 1 (high 2), and the one with the jet pack for finger pattern 2 (low 2). Most of the tunes are presented in either G major or D major, where the lower octave uses finger pattern 1, and the upper octave uses finger pattern 2. In addition, each page features a graphical fingering chart (like the one you will see below in Scaley Monsters) and a performance-enhancing suggestion from the "Sound Effects Files"-- tongue clicks, tremolos, foot stamps, harmonics, col legno-- all designed to further technique and add a little spice to the study. Later in the book, Cohen contrasts major and minor versions of the same tune (along with the necessary finger spacing changes), provides previously learned pieces in new keys to finish by ear (with quiz questions on whether the version was major or minor, and FP 1 or FP 2), and lists seven challenges set by the aliens to get those brain cells in even more motion. As in so many of her books, I love the way Cohen takes simple material (high or low 2?) and adds perfectly achievable layers of complexity and creativity to keep tedium at bay.

Space It! serves as preparatory material to Cohen's scale book, Scaley Monsters. How can you not love something subtitled "Scales without tears for young violinists"? As you can clearly see, this book features a dinosaur motif. Major keys included are A, D, G, C, F, and Bb. G and A major are presented in both one and two-octave versions, while Bb is given only in two octaves. For minor keys, Cohen has separate pages of harmonic minor and melodic minor versions for A, D, and G. On the page following each scale sheet, a familiar tune is provided using that key, along with some blank staff lines for the student to compose his or her own short tune in the key. Pieces are all in first position, and require attention to dynamics and articulation. Some can be rhythmically challenging, such as "Havah Nagilah" in D harmonic minor. The last page of the book is a "List of Little-Known Dinosaurs" (somehow related to student characteristics) and their causes for extinction. The "Altogether-too-Difficultosaurus" died because "it never got around to finding food because it gave up before starting out."

This sample page shows the layout for each scale sheet. The "dinosaur footprint map" shows the finger pattern for the relevant strings (Space It! includes the same charts, but with stars denoting fingers instead of footprints). Each scale is written both ascending and descending, with an accompanying arpeggio. There is also a "Dinosaur rhythm game" for each scale (a little hard to read here) with a rhythm corresponding to the dinosaur's name (sneakily incubating rhythm practice for the future). Either they've discovered a lot more dinosaurs since my day, or Cohen has made some up to fit her rhythms better. Here, the dinosaur is "Albertosaurus," and is linked to a long-short-short-long-long rhythm. Each dinosaur picture is, of course, different, and could be colored if one so desired.

Again, Cohen makes a dry bit of violin study an opportunity for humor, creativity, and better yet, musical expression and understanding. Applying the keys immediately to pieces gives them so much more meaning!

The contents of Nifty Shifts are a little harder to describe. The subtitle here is "Tunes and tips to kick-start position changing," and I think we should just take Cohen's word for it. It is by no means a comprehensive shifting method, and at 16 pages is a bit shorter than most of her other books. What it really comprises are mental concepts concerning position change, rather than pages of drills, and the concepts have pretty far-reaching implications for advancing as a violinist. The preface lists a number of transferable skills that students should already have, and be able to use in the book: glissandi up and down the fingerboard, finding the harmonics halfway along each string, playing in tune in lots of different keys in 1st position, using the 4th finger to replace an open string, and being able to play in tune on a violin that is several sizes too small for you. If a student has played the Superstudies books, they will certainly have all these, other than perhaps the last one. Seven symbols pop up as guides in crucial spots, including a pencil as a reminder to mark in half-steps, an engaged doggie telling you to listen to your playing, a zooming skateboard telling you to shift, and a lightbulb pointing out a bright idea.

The first concept, though she doesn't put it this way, is that if you can play a tune with a certain fingering in one position and key, you can play the same tune with the same fingering but in a different key in another position. The intervals stay the same, though the finger spacing will change as you play in higher positions (and she talks about this as "the incredible shrinking violin"). On this first page, Cohen sets up playing "Frere Jacques" in third position by establishing the fingering in first position in E major and Bb major. On the next page, she writes out the first measure in Ab major on the G string, asking the student to finish it by ear. Only then does she give instructions on how to find D on the A string in 3rd position, and again asks the student to play it by ear. At the bottom of the page, the tune is written out in G major starting in 3rd position on the D string. "Can Can" gets a similar treatment on the next two pages, followed by three pages of tunes presented in 1st and 3rd position (but not always with corresponding fingering). The next few pages offer tunes that shift between positions. The book ends with some exercises. "Fingerobics" is a page of one-octave major scales, starting on Bb on the A string and rising chromatically on the same string to G major in 6th position (with the last 5 using an 8va sign instead of ledger lines). "Glisserobics" focus on shifting from the first three fingers up to the half-string harmonic on A, using harmonic pressure during the shifts. Finally, "Shifty bits and pieces" introduces the idea of a guide finger in the shift, using one-octave D major and D minor scales and arpeggios. It's a novel approach, and one that I think needs more reinforcement than the book provides, but it's a very welcome alternative to learning third position as it's own separate kingdom, geographically isolated from any other.

The last book I'll discuss is Cohen's Jazz Technique Takes Off! Being a middle-aged, white, classically-trained violinist, I haven't spent a lot of time with this one and admit I feel a little intimidated by it. But in the privacy of my own home, with no one but the dog listening, I've experimented with these etudes and have found, as always, that they are beautifully written in a variety of styles and techniques. Most are solos, some are duets. Rhythms are challenging, with syncopation, mixed meters, and composite meters (3+3+2/8). Fingerings have to accommodate more chromatic writing, and so often use "creepy crawly" changes of position and half position. All but one study stick to 1st-3rd position, and that one rebellious etude goes all the way up to seventh! Styles include blues, ragtime, tango, charleston, jazz waltz and rumba. Where we classical violinists sound least stylistic is in bowing, so these etudes offer an opportunity to try to loosen up and get used to new coordination patterns (oh, there I go again)...er, I mean grooves. I'd place these between the Technique Takes Off! books and Technique Flies High!, as they definitely require dexterity and a new way to look at playing.

I hope these blog posts have encouraged you to open your wallets and buy a few of Mary Cohen's books. Check out her website, http://marysmusiccupboard.epartnershub.com, for ideas and free stuff. You and your students will love this music!

There will be more on Mary Cohen’s books next month, but I’ve been thinking about this issue for some recent lectures and couldn’t wait to write about it any longer. Did you know that there’s a difference between male elbows and female elbows? Was that a gasp I heard? This was first brought to my attention by the wonderful Jonathan Reynolds, a Minneapolis physical therapist who has a great arts medicine practice. He just happened to mention this casually in conversation with another violinist and I one day. We both said, “huh?” and gaped at him. He kindly replied, “Yeah, women’s arms angle outward from the elbow, and men’s are straight. Our stunned reply to that was “WHAT???” along with jumping up and down a couple of times. This just seemed immensely important in terms of holding the violin, and I couldn’t believe I'd never seen anything about it in pedagogical literature. What follows below are my conclusions, based on a lot of thought, harassing my students to let me examine and photograph their elbows, and no rigorous scientific testing whatsoever.

The angle in question is called the “carrying angle” and is seen when the arm is extended straight by the side (it’s easier to see if your palm is facing forward). The website,  http://www.healthline.com/human-body-maps/elbow , provides the following information. “The resting angle of the elbow prevents the arms from hitting the sides of your body as you walk. This is known as the “carrying angle.” Women typically have smaller shoulders and wider hips than men, and this can cause variations between carrying angles in men and women.” The greater carrying angle in women develops during puberty. There have been quite a few studies done (you can google it), and the difference in carrying angle is now seen by many as a secondary sex characteristic (which could be used as a means to differentiate male and female skeletons).  Here are two examples from my studio, male on the left and female on the right:

So what does this mean for violin and viola players? For holding the instrument, the implications are quite dramatic. When a person (let’s say a male) folds up his forearm to bring the hand towards the body, the elbow angle naturally allows the forearm to be directly in line with the upper arm:

However, when a person with a greater carrying angle (let’s say a female) does this, the natural motion of the arm is to bring the hand towards the chest.    

The only way for females with carrying angles such as these to attain the same position as the males shown above is to rotate the arm/elbow to the right (as you would to play higher on the G string). It seems therefore that many females would be better served to hold their instruments more in front, rather than out to the side, so as not to argue with the natural angle of their arms when bent into playing position. The more an arm is pulled under the violin or viola, the more susceptible it becomes to injury, whether by straining tendons or by putting undue stress on the ulnar nerve where it runs in the bony ridge of the medial epicondyle. Most shoulder rests have been designed with a man’s body in mind, with the possible exceptions of the Wolf Forte Secondo, or the old Menuhin pads. The newer Everest, a wonderful shoulder pad, was designed by making a computer model of the shoulder. It definitely angles the violin out towards the side when its curves and the shoulders’ curves are lined up. I often find it to be a great choice for my tall college guys, but rarely for the young ladies. How much would you like to bet it was a male shoulder that was the model for the Everest? I wonder if one modeled on female shoulders would be different? Sure seems like an area ripe for exploration.

So that is my brief and unscientific exploration of the topic to date. I’m still pondering the effects carrying angle might have on the bow arm. Seems like it might make for more natural pronation in females, but I need to get out the construction paper and experiment (the only way I figured out this much). In the both holding the violin and in bowing, elbow carrying angle might be a factor contributing to the fact that more females suffer playing-related injuries than men. Any thoughts?

I have long been a fan of Mary Cohen’s pedagogical works. Like the music books of Caroline Lumsden, they make me want to grab some children to teach! If you haven’t yet seen them, let me echo the words an older colleague once said to me about another Brit: “Oh, to be young and have all of Dorothy L. Sayers ahead of you!” I promise that the prolific Ms. Cohen will provide you with marvelous discoveries for some time to come.

Mary Cohen is a British violinist who studied at Royal College of Music (piano and composition in addition to violin) and was a member of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. She also plays viola and cello, and is a passionate advocate of chamber music for students from the earliest possible moment. Ms. Cohen has been deeply involved with the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, especially with their Music Medals program. Her books are full of humor—let me repeat that, FULL of humor-- and opportunities for creativity. She incorporates a wide variety of styles, including jazz, ragtime, 20th century compositional techniques, and many dance forms. Half-string harmonics are introduced early on, as are more “sophisticated” rhythms and bowings. Faber Music publishes her books, and her website, Mary’s Music Cupboard (http://marysmusiccupboard.epartnershub.com/Default.aspx#), offers some free materials in addition to purchased music downloads. 

You can get a good idea of the flavor of Mary’s works in this progression chart of her books:    

Cohen dispenses crucial information to students in ways they won’t forget, such as this list from the first edition of Superstart, Vol. 1:

Seven Useful Tips
(to make you one of the worst pupils in the world)

1.     Always arrive at your lesson with filthy, sticky hands and long fingernails which need cutting.

2.     Forget to put your bow/violin in your case after practicing, so you have a good chance of leaving one of them at home.

3.     Leave all the pieces you are working at on your music-stand after practicing so even if you remember your violin/bow, you will probably forget to bring your music.

4.     Lose your practice notebook the second you arrive home—so you don’t have to read it and you can aim for the world record of the pupil who has the most notebooks with only one page of writing.

5.     Never look in your practice book (if you’re being kind to trees and haven’t lost it yet) to remind you what it is that you are supposed to be working at this week.

6.     Always play pieces with as many of the mistakes you made first time round as possible, and definitely don’t try to remember what it was you worked on in your lesson which solved this week’s problems.

7.     Don’t practice until the day before your next lesson and if possible make sure you’ve left either your violin, bow or music with your teacher.

Have you any other great tips to pass on?


Like those in the "Words and Music" blog posts (January and February 2013), Ms. Cohen is another great advocate for using words to teach rhythms, particularly in the earliest levels of development. Bags of Fun, a book for the “absolute beginner,” is a collection of one-line “pieces” where the rhythm reflects the title. Students also get to play col legno, behind the bridge, and accents; do retakes; and even go up for the half-string harmonic. All four strings are used, fingers are limited to 1 and high 2, time signatures are 2/4, 3/4, and 4/4, and combinations of eighth and quarter notes contribute to the fun. Here are a few examples (apologies for the lag time after hitting record):

Energetic elephants down at the gym.

Sometimes words are used to reinforce concepts instead of rhythms, such as in “The good sound guide” on page 13 of Superstart (“If you grip you’ll make a scritchy scratchy sound,” sung to the tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic). When low second fingers are introduced (page 40 of Superstart), the tune “All mixed up!” has these words:

Oh.. sometimes I feel happy

And.. sometimes I feel sad.

Oh.. sometime I behave so well

And.. sometimes I’m just bad.

I’m.. all mixed up (I’m a mixed up pup) but I want to be quite or-di-na-ry

So today I’ll just feel happy

And.. then we’ll all be glad (Hooray!)

Here is the D string version of the tune, which the book presents in A string and G string versions as well. The accompaniment is from the cd that comes with the book.

Egbert’s Circus Games manages to be an etude book incorporated into a story! The short studies are similar to the targeted technical work in Sally O’Reilly’s Fiddle Magic. There are several pages of excellent Teacher’s Notes at the end to clarify and elaborate on the exercises. The story is a follow-up to The Adventures of Egbert, telling what happened when (spoiler alert) he joined Mr. Bim Bam’s circus. 

Whew! That’s just some of her beginning repertoire. More to come!

Having been a horse-obsessed young girl, it astonishes me that I had never read one of the most famous “horse” books ever, My Friend Flicka—until now. Mary O’Hara, author of this trilogy and other books, is also Mary O’Hara, pianist and composer.

Ms. O’Hara (1885-1980) lived a varied life! Born into a family descended from William Penn, O’Hara grew up as a minister’s daughter in Brooklyn Heights, NY. She married a third cousin (against her father’s wishes) and moved with him to California at the start of the 20th century. They divorced, and she stayed on and worked as a screenwriter in Hollywood in the 1920’s. Marriage again uprooted her, and she moved to Wyoming with husband #2, a man who had worked with horses in the Army. This ranch and her experiences there form the not-so-well-disguised background and characters in the Wyoming trilogy of My Friend Flicka, Thunderhead, and Green Grass of Wyoming, which were written while living there in the 1940’s. Divorcing again in 1947, Ms. O’Hara moved back east and settled in Maryland for the rest of her life.

Wyoming looms large in O’Hara’s musical output. She wrote a musical called  “Oh! Wyoming! : a folk tale of the Western plains with music” in 1959; a song “Green Grass of Wyoming” in 1946 (the words of which are quoted in the novel of the same name),  and another musical, “The Catch Colt” in the 1960’s. The Sunset Dance (which is in the second volume of the anthology) was published in the 1920’s, so it seems clear that her love of nature and the wide-open spaces of the west was long a source of her musical inspiration. After finding this piece and looking into O’Hara’s background for her biography, I decided that I really needed to read her most famous books.

So recently I finished reading the trilogy. One thing that stood out to me throughout was that sunrises, sunsets, and the weather itself almost became characters themselves in the books. My Friend Flicka begins the trilogy with a sunrise: 

“High up on the long hill they called the Saddle Back, behind the ranch and the county road, the boy sat his horse, facing east, his eyes dazzled by the rising sun.
    It seemed like a personage come to visit; appearing all of a sudden over the dark bank of clouds in the east, coming up over the edge of it smiling; bowing right and left; lighting up the whole world so that everything smiled back.”

There are numerous descriptions of sunsets, usually helping to set the mood for the action. In Thunderhead, while Nell and Rob share a strained car ride, O’Hara describes a sunset:

"It was a sunset of blue and silver. The light had gone away from the earth, leaving a sea of darkness beneath a sky as blue as turquoise. The eyes, straining to discover at what far-distant point that dark earth me the jeweled light of the sky, were lost in mystery. That was not all. There was a mile-long, torpedo-shaped lake of quicksilver some distance above the horizon, it’s edges as finely turned as if blown in glass, and below it, thrusting up from behind the earth, the tops of thunderheads burning white, like great alabaster lamps lit from within… The sunset dawned, burned, died at the slow swing of a gigantic, omnipotent arm."

In the last book, Nell writes to her son Howard the “sermon” she was too sick to give him before he left for school. Several threads come together:

"…just one more word about the way LOVE bestows happiness. When you come to think of it, there is nothing that bestows happiness except love. Love is implicit in all praise, in admiration. You know how, in yourself, when you see some glorious thing, a sunset, or a beautiful face, or some of these exquisite scenes of nature that you now and then come upon, a great tide of praise, love and happiness rises in your heart until it seems that it will burst, and tears push up behind your eyes! Or perhaps it is the grandeur of a symphony. Or perhaps it is great courage or a noble, unselfish deed—and again that bursting love fills that heart."

O'Hara delves more into her feelings about music in Green Grass of Wyoming. For me, one of the most striking scenes in the whole trilogy, and some of the most beautiful writing, describes Nell’s reaction to Rob’s gift of a piano:

"She did not know he was there. Her face was rapt. She sat with one elbow on the rack, her head leaning on her hand, the other hand playing that low fifth with a deep, gentle touch, over and over.
    At last he couldn’t help asking her why she kept playing just those two notes, and why there were tears in her eyes…She explained hesitatingly, as if she were feeling her way through the thoughts. ‘I learned to do this when I was a child. By the hour. It is as if we know so small a part of life and of the universe and all that is. The world, all worlds, heaven, hell—whatever there is in the way of worlds and universes and life! How little we knew! We cannot know more. We’re not constituted to know more, and yet we can’t help wishing we could. Well, music hints at all we cannot know but just dream of. If I sit playing one chord over and over, listening with an absolutely blank mind, it does something to me. Deep down. I don’t know what, but it is a marvelous emotion. Everything falls away. And I begin to be aware of the depths of things—I don’t know what to call them. Perhaps beauty. Perhaps love. Perhaps an immensurable longing. Of the final deep and dreadful and marvelous things that would be too much for human beings to bear if they did know of them. Yes—that’s it, through these two notes, I get a message, a promise, a terrible enticement...‘"

Children's books? On some levels, yes. But in addition to the gripping stories of horses, adventure and growing up, O'Hara explores depths of feeling and relationship issues that surprised me as an adult. Reading them, The Sunset Dance became more to me than a cute tune that explores first and third position and is a really great opportunity for left hand octave frame work. It is all that, yes, but in the same way that these are much more than YA books, her awe of nature and love of music are going to stay with me when I play it.

The books explored in this segment are really the reason I chose this topic in the first place! They are some of my favorite works for children, and it is a toss-up as to which wins the award for most adorable illustrations.

The first (chronologically) is Sally O'Reilly's Fiddle Rhythms (originally String Rhythms). For anyone unacquainted with Ms. O'Reilly, her official biography reads as follows: "Sally O'Reilly is known throughout the music world as a soloist, chamber musician, and pedagogue. Professor of Violin at the University of Minnesota School of Music in Minneapolis, she studied with Ivan Galamian at Curtis Institute and with Josef Gingold at Indiana University, where she was his assistant. Later she studied with Andre Gertler and Carlo Van Neste in Brussels, where she was a Fulbright Scholar. Her chamber music coaches included Janos Starker, Gyorgy Sebok, Artur Balsam, William Primrose, and Felix Galimir." (https://music.umn.edu/people/faculty-staff/profile?UID=oreil004) 

While Ms. O'Reilly doesn't use specific lyrics throughout the book, she equates each rhythm with a mouth-watering pie filling as a clever mnemonic device. For example, "apple" (as in apple pie) represents two eighth-notes. Each rhythm has a page devoted to its exploration. First, the rhythm is used by itself to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," and next reappears in a variation of this tune called "I Like _____ Pie." Then two or three short familiar tunes which use the rhythm put the cap on the lesson.

Ms. O'Reilly's pie fillings are often ingenious. "Orange" represents a sixteenth and dotted eighth (she is from Texas-- give it two syllables!), "banana" = 16th-8th-16th, "chocolate" is an eighth-note triplet, and so on. "Mixed fruit pies" are pages with tunes that combine the rhythms, and "Lopsided pies" use asymmetrical meters. A final page has a quiz on the different rhythm types, with the opportunity to compose a little. I love this book, even though it makes me want to head for the nearest diner for coffee and pie.

Next up are two of my all-time favorite books. They make me want to run out and lasso children to teach so I can have the joy of using them. Both are by British violinist and teacher Caroline Lumsden, author of the "Musicland" series, widely used in the UK. Ms. Lumsden studied at the Guildhall School of Music, and has spent much of her career specializing in teaching children. She is the director of the Beauchamp Music Group (named after her house), which is a registered charity that has taught hundreds of young people in Britain. Ms. Lumsden imbues her teaching with a great sense of fun, which is readily apparent in these two books. 

The first, Witches' Brew, is a collection of pieces for open strings and first finger. Yawn, you say? Not with the collection of rhythms, bowings, special effects, jazzy accompaniments, and hilarious words (were you wondering when I'd get to that?) that comprise the music. Put out in 2002, the books got to ride in on the Harry Potter wave, but stand the test of time now that he's all grown up.

Each piece uses words to reinforce the rhythms, and the words  all lie in that range of grossness that delights children so. The first of the tunes, "Witches' Brew" (pictured here; I don't know who stretta music is, but I can't think that they have any copyright claim to this), has the following lyrics:

Witches' brew, witches' brew
do not drink the witches' brew
Tail of rat, eyeballs too
toes of toad and nose of shrew.

Witches' brew, witches' brew
do not drink the witches' brew
Rotten eggs, lumpy goo
nasty odor, smells like stew.

Witches' brew, witches' brew
drink drink drink


Practice suggestions at the top read: 
Whisper and sing along; Clap with time names; Clap and sing note names; Practice the final noise.

The book comes with a cd which includes both performance and accompaniment tracks for each piece. Here is "Witches' Brew":

The second volume, Wizard's Potion, continues the fun with "16 spooky pieces to play and sing." Like the first, it includes a cd, adorable illustrations, and a summary of teaching points for each piece in the piano part. This time the player's range is extended to first and second finger patterns, and chromatic alterations are common. Children are weaned away from the reliance on words to learn rhythms, with only the first five pieces including lyrics. However, the "rhythm" of the title is generally found in the first measure or two of the violin part. One of my favorites, "Melted Mouse & Roasted Rat in Choc'late Sauce," comes off as a delightfully dirty blues. Just to imagine a little cherub getting down and swinging away on this makes me start looking around for younger students again...

I am a huge fan of Ms. Lumsden, if you couldn't tell. Both books are published by Peters, and are also available in a version for cello. Word use is certainly more fun in her hands than it was a century ago!

One final note (and chance to show you another adorable illustration from Wizard's Potion): The covers and illustrations were found online and are used without permission. Ditto with the sound files, which are from the cd's that come with the book. I use them all only with the intent to introduce this wonderful material to others and to sell lots of copies for Ms. O'Reilly and Ms. Lumsden. Hopefully that will keep me out of trouble!  

Long before “Mississippi Hot Dog” became cemented in the violin vocabulary, using words as an aid to teaching music was a common technique. As I gathered material for the anthology, it was interesting to note how the types of language, and how it was used, changed over time. Here are some entirely unscientific observations from my by no means exhaustive study of the topic.

In the early 20th century, Edith Lynwood Winn (1867-1933), that tireless pedagogue with her many How to Study... books (for Kreutzer, Fiorillo, Rode, and Gavinies) used poems as prefaces to the pieces in her compositions for violin and piano. For instance, the three pieces from From the Carolina Hills included in volume one of the anthology have the following poems:

"A Picture"

My summer’s gone—where did it go?
  The land is covered o’er with snow,
  
The air is sharp upon the hill,
  My hands are cold—I feel the chill

Of wintry winds that blow.
  And yet I sit and think, and lo!

The pine within the grate doth glow,
  While down the misty, snow-clad hill, I catch a song of sweet good-will,

And though the summer’s gone I know
  ‘Twill come again.

"The Sunshine Lad"

The Sunshine Lad has a morning song,
  For all the world like a robin’s note,

Clear and true, joyous and free,
  Though the rents are many in cap and coat.

The Sunshine Lad has a basket of pine,
  The long-leaved pine of the Old North State,

The song it sings is a sunshine song,
  As it sputters and sparkles in the grate.

"Buy My Pine"

“Buy my pine! Buy my pine!
  The long-leaved pine—the emerald pine,
  The scrubby pine full of turpentine, 
  For the pine of the hills is mine—all mine.”
    
A child cried out in the early morn,
  A child all dirty and ragged and torn,
  And the pine she bore cried back in turn,
  “I am thine—all thine, let me quickly burn.”

I haven’t found any attribution for the poems, so my assumption is that they were written by Winn herself. Her use of poems in these pieces, as well as in two other collections (Five Playtime Pieces and Six Shadow Pictures), seem to be to set the mood, or perhaps inspire the mind to loftier considerations. I tried singing the words along to the music, and in every case it was a dismal failure.

Jumping ahead to the 1930’s, one of the works that gave me many laughs (but didn’t make it into the anthology) was One String Solos for Violin Beginners, by Kate La Rue Harper. Now, before you La Rue Harper fans get upset with me, there is nothing wrong with the music or the pedagogy here. This set of pieces limits each tune to one string, to better learn the notes and the feel of tone production there. The words do correspond with the rhythms, and are printed as lyrics. But what words! In my mind, I nicknamed these “Songs of Pain and Death.” If more research were to show a shift in society and education from uplifting young minds to moralizing and fear-mongering, it would be in full bloom here. For example, this solo on the A string:

"Kitty Needs a Pill"

Go and call a doctor, Kitty’s very ill.
  Ask him if he’ll hurry, Oh I hope he will!
  Kitty’s had a spill, Now she’s very ill;
  Go and call a doctor, Kitty needs a pill.

And:

"Lazy Little Bug"  (D string Solo)
    
Lazy, lazy, little bug, Lying there asleep
  Warm and snug beneath the rug, Wrapped in slumber deep.
  When your little nap is o’er, And you stretch your legs once more,
  You may find your dream was true, Someone really stepped on you!

Humans also receive their share of trouble (“Bobby cries in bitter woe/Just because he stubbed his toe”). In fairness, not every tune focuses on sickness, pain or death, but enough do that the thought of having a child memorize the words in order to learn the rhythms of the song gives me the heeby-jeebies.

The only other work by La Rue Harper that I've found listed is a one-act juvenile opera called Tomboy Jo’. Tomboy Jo’ is a poor orphan girl who is ostracized by both girls and boys for her gender-inappropriate looks and behavior. Here are the stage directions for her first entrance: “Tomboy Jo’ comes in turning cartwheels, or some other boyish trick. She has short hair and is boyish and unkempt. The boys and girls in chorus exclaim: ’O, here comes Josephine!’ They look at each other as if she were not welcome in either group.” It all comes right in the end when a tramp arrives and turns out to be her long-lost father, who has been stricken with amnesia (and her mother died of a broken heart after he wandered away). Somehow his return allows the others to accept her… I haven’t been able to find any biographical information on La Rue Harper, but I hope her life was more pleasant than all this suggests.

Next, some far happier contributions from contemporary female teachers!

As I was researching music for inclusion in the anthology, two trends caught my attention. When music came via interlibrary loan, more often than not it came from the "Harvey Whistler Memorial Collection" at Arizona State University. And often, the music had been published by the Arthur P. Schmidt Publishing Company. 

Well, sorry about the wait... but I had a great vacation! For the finale here, I want to tell you about the three publications I've found by Kemp Stillings. There were hints of more in the newspaper articles, but these are the only ones I've located.

The first, from 1926, is called The Great Adventure. The cover depicts a stern king (who looks a lot like a king in a deck of playing cards) enthroned in the upper right corner of the page, while down in the lower left corner a little boy holding a violin case looks up at him, no doubt with trepidation. The caption on bottom right reads, "'Why didn't you come sooner?' said the Violin King." Gulp! Yet this whole book is an attempt to humanize the process of learning the basics of playing the violin. In a preface "to the grown-ups," Stilling writes:
          Remembering my own childhood days and also recalling how completely the tremendous
          enthusiasm with which I had commenced my violin studies vanished after the first few
          lessons, for many years never to return; Remembering this most vividly, I have endeavored
          to surround the tedious work of laying a firm foundation with enough of imaginative
          glamour to make it attractive to the childish mind.
Stillings then goes on to write the story of Jules, who has longed to meet the Violin King but could not find a proper guide. Having found one "who knew the way well," the author and Jules set out on their journey through rhythmic notation, counting, open strings, and all four fingers. There are delightful illustrations by V. (Vera?) Somoff throughout, and quite a few duets to keep things interesting.

The next book arrived two years later. Entitled The Giant Talks, it continues the story of Jules on his quest for violin mastery. This cover features a giant, the somewhat hapless Jules, and a pile of boots at which the giant is pointing. "'Choose!' said the giant, pointing to the piles of seven-league boots." The subtitle of the book is "Preparatory Scales for Little Violinists," and yes, the seven-league boots are decorated with the seven notes of a scale. The story begins:
          As Jules climbed down from the see-saw, there stood old Giant Facility waiting for him. He 
          was standing by the outer wall looking very important with a large bunch of keys hanging 
          from his belt. "I'm glad you've come at last," he said. "I have been waiting here some time 
          for you. Come along with me now to my castle on the hill. You can't go further on your journey 
          until you are well-equipped with many kinds of the seven league Scale Boots. You need them 
          for there is hard traveling ahead and you would grow weary without them. You need major 
          Scale Boots for the pleasant days and minor Scale Boots for the rainy weather and sharp 
          Scale Boots for the winter days and flat Scale Boots for the heat of the summer.
This Hagrid of music theory sets Jules to the task of learning the structure of a major scale, starting with the definition, "A scale consists of a succession of tones in alphabetical order, arranged according to a definite plan." Jules seems to catch on, and is shown to "...a large sunny room. Jules stared in astonishment. The floor was covered with piles of lovely boots of all sizes and colors. Giant Facility called out, 'Choose, Jules! You'll find them a wonderful help.' Then Jules looked carefully all around because he had no wish to make a mistake. [He chose] a pair of C major (one octave) Scale Boots, plain leather without any sharps or flats." So that is the premise of the book, with boots becoming more elaborate as they gain sharps and flats, and the notated scales gaining more rhythmic and bowing elaboration. The pictures are cute, but a trifle forced; it must have been a challenge to depict boots skiing, huddling under umbrellas, or riding a scooter, to name a few. The book goes through major and minor scales with four sharps and flats, after which Jules declares that he is tired and hungry. And who can blame him?

Also from 1928, the last book, At the Crossroads, dispenses with Jules, stories and pictures. Subtitled "46 technical shortcuts for developing the violinist's left hand," it really delivers! The table of contents includes the following: Shifting exercises (one-finger and two-finger scales); Exercises for strengthening the 4th finger jumping octaves and tenths; One string arpeggios; Broken seconds for correcting faulty hand position; double stops in thirds, octaves, sixths and fourths; Exercises for gaining finger independence; Exercises for correcting finger action; Strengthening exercises and placing of fifths; Exercises for string crossings preparatory to playing scales; Arpeggios; Playing in higher positions; Harmonics; and lastly, Vibrato exercise. They are short and extremely effective. For example, she approaches thirds by first having one section played only with 1 and 3, in which you move up and then down in a three-note group, then go up a second and do it again. The notes move up from first position on the G and D strings to seventh position (and optionally higher) on the E string.  The next section does the same thing, but with 2 and 4 thirds. Only after that is there a section of alternating 1 and 3/2 and 4  thirds. This is a book that really deserves reprinting! It is concise and effective, like an early version of Simon Fischer's Warming Up (go to www.simonfischer.co.uk if you don't know about this book!). In Stillings' words, "These exercises are the result of my own experience in teaching, and are designed to build a reliable left hand technic, using at the same time as little material as possible."

I hope you've enjoyed learning about this seemingly forgotten teacher. If anyone has any more information, I'd love to hear from you!