When I first started learning to play the cello at age seven, I had the best teacher ever. That was back in the 80s, when my birth country Bulgaria was still Communist, so I addressed my teacher as Comrade Stoyanov. He lived with his wife in a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of an ordinary apartment building. I remember climbing the stairs excitedly because I loved our lessons, and because his wife would always give me sweet pastries during our break.
As soon as I entered, my teacher would take the cello from me so I could take off my shoes and jacket — if I had one — and put slippers on. We would then go into the living room, which was also used as a bedroom. It was modestly but tastefully furnished: two corner beds forming an L shape, a small table, a small wardrobe, and a TV. The room was full of light. The best feature was a huge armchair, wood carved by my teacher. It looked like a throne. I always sat on it whenever he took the cello from me to show me a passage.
Right before the lesson, and for most of it, he would stand. The expression on his face before I would start playing is something I will never forget — full of warmth and giddy anticipation.
He has long gone to Heaven, and now that I am a teacher, I understand that look of anticipation before hearing my students play. How did their practice go? I wonder. What aspect of cello playing got a bit better? What still needs work?
We play the most beautiful instrument in the world! It is my mission to help cello learners experience the most deliciously satisfying and fun cello practice.