Music Lessons (critiques invited) My father died at about my age and I suppose I'll follow him before long. A violinist with a major symphony
orchestra, he practiced for hours before performances. When I was eight he tutored me on the violin until
we could play Vivaldi for Two Violins together. If my beat was off a bit, he would slow down or speed up.
I still hear his voice, coaching me in his native Austrian: fis! bis! the German terms for flats and sharps.
Mother would settle in her favorite chair and listen to us play Arcangelo Corelli. In her presence I played flawlessly.
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