The Chinese-thinking Approach to Violin Playing

Recently I have been studying a very esoteric form of Chinese philosophy called Hwa-Yen. It is the philosophical basis of Zen Buddhism.

In the process I have learned something about the way Asian language systems, Chinese in particular, conceptualize and name the objects we see in our every day world.

So this morning I was reflecting on this a little bit while I was practicing, and it struck me that my thinking about violin playing mirrors the Chinese approach to language and conceptualization very closely.

You see, there is a subtle and interesting difference between the East and West in how ‘things’ are given names, and if you stay with me I think you’ll get something worthwhile out of it, something that may indeed benefit and shed light on your playing of the violin.

In Chinese, to give a few examples, the word for ‘train’ translates, literally, as ‘fire car,’ automobile as ‘gas car’, and bicycle as ‘foot-stepping car.’ In English, however, we have quite different and distinct words for each of these things; etymologically they are seemingly quite unrelated.

In the Chinese mind, then, the linguistic construction first identifies ‘train’ as something belonging to a group, in this case, a vehicle. This generalized term is then modified and given specificity by the addition of an adjective, in this case describing one requiring fire for operation – at least trains did in the old days.

So even from the way our language systems are constructed you can see that the Western mind tends to compartmentalize, to identify in a specific and definite way. The Eastern mind, on the other hand, seeks to generalize first, and then to differentiate; this thing is both like these AND, simultaneously, containing in something quite different.

Now let’s talk violin playing. Many violinists I have taught have wanted to ‘nail things down’ when they came to me; this is THE way the fingers of the left hand articulate, this time, every time.

And for such players it comes as a surprise that in one Kreutzer Etude I talk of the fingers lightly tapping the string, and in another of the four fingers moving as if some kind of a constant motion machine; the former implying a digital type of articulation, the latter something quite analogue.

And, in fact, BOTH and more must be available to one seeking to reach the highest levels of performance.

The world of form IS full of contradictions and the message of music is, by definition, transmitted within this same world of form.

And thought there is no getting around this, it is also true that underlying the contradictions are a great number of similarities and parallels.

So, though I say there are contradictions does not mean one surrenders to chaos. There are, after all, ways of playing the violin that are more efficient, effective and conducive to getting even wildly different types of music across than others.

The point is, however, that your technique must be fluid, dynamic, and able to embrace and effortlessly expand through a great range of textures and expressions.

So there isn’t just one way to articulate with the fingers of the left hand. And there isn’t just one way to ‘take the string’ when initiating a tone.

The challenge of a violin system, however, is to provide for all these ‘contradictions’ within something of a generalized framework, so hopeless confusion is avoided.

In short, one needs a way of playing the instrument that is BOTH superbly straight-forward AND supremely flexible and adaptive.

As proof, when we listen and watch a truly great master moving effortlessly through a vast range of expression we often can’t help but think, ‘and they make it look so simple.’ And so it has become, for them, as it must for you.

One such method, for experienced players who want to take it up a notch or two, can be found in my ‘Kreutzer for Violin Mastery’ program.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

P.S. Now, players not-quite-ready for the 42 Kreutzer Etudes would do well to take a look at my very comprehensive lessons called, the ‘Allegro Players.’