Posture. Posture. Posture.

I hear it over and over and it is consistently the hardest technical element of playing viola for me. Why? Because I don’t LIKE standing up straight. Why do I not like standing up straight? I don’t like standing up straight for the same reason I constantly say “I’m sorry.”

I want to be small.

This is not an unusual desire for a woman.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie once said that:

“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, you can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful. Otherwise, you would threaten the man.”

It has become increasingly clear to me that my largest problem as an artist, is that I am actually afraid of being exceptional. Being an exceptional artist means being daring, being brave, being bold, being loud. Being an exceptional artist means taking risks, letting go, “making yourself an open wound (Timothee Chalamet).”

It is simply impossible to be the kind of artist I need to be if I am afraid of standing tall and being seen.

Posture. Fortissimo. Expressivo. Projection! These are all words I don’t like, but they’re the words I need to succeed.

I want to be small.

This is not an unusual desire for a woman.

But, if I wish to be an artist I cannot be small. Female artists must expand, which is perhaps why art has been such a crucial part of the female experience for centuries. Even when we weren’t allowed to go to school or have jobs or own land— we still played instruments and painted pictures and embroidered.

Audre Lorde once described the importance of art to the female experience in the following way:

“For women, then, poetry (artistry) is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action.”

Tomorrow I’ve got to walk on stage as the only woman with three men. This is hard for me. But, I’ve decided that I’ve got to walk on that stage with my shoulders tall and my head held high because the music deserves all of me— not simply a shrunken half of myself. Shostakovich gave the viola quite a lot in this quartet. I’ve got multiple solos in all three movements and the rest of the notes are pretty crazy as well. Additionally, the piece is a huge emotional journey from beginning to end (with no breaks! it’s attaca!). I HAVE TO GIVE IT EVERYTHING.

My first hope for tomorrow is that I can stand tall and be loud and play boldly. My second hope for tomorrow is that I can inspire the young girls in my life to do the same.

YOUR SONG IS BEAUTIFUL. SING IT LOUD ENOUGH SO PEOPLE CAN HEAR!

Thank you to the strong women in my life— my mother, my grandmothers, my aunts, my violin and viola teachers, my sisters and my friends. Thank you for teaching me how to sing !

(Also thanks to the Chanel Spring 2021 show for giving me serious posture and confidence goals)

xoxo