Catherine

Summary

The author reminisces about Catherine, their classical guitar teacher from the early nineties, reflecting on the impact she had on their musical journey and the fate of their first guitar.

Abstract

The author, a former student of Catherine, recalls the profound influence she had on their early musical education, specifically in classical guitar. They share fond memories of Catherine's teaching and the emotional connection they developed with the instrument. The narrative touches on the author's transition to jazz and electric guitar, leaving Catherine's tutelage, and the subsequent mistreatment of their first classical guitar by a friend's sibling. The author also reflects on their own introverted and hypersensitive nature, finding solace in solitude and classical music, particularly the works of Croatian guitarist Ana Vidović. This leads to a nostalgic longing to reconnect with Catherine and revisit the roots of their musical beginnings.

Opinions

The author has a deep sentimental attachment to their past with Catherine and classical guitar.
Catherine's influence was significant enough to inspire a lifelong love for music in the author.
The author values solitude and finds comfort in their personal space, which aligns with their introverted personality.
There is a sense of regret or nostalgia for the author's first classical guitar, which was damaged by someone else.
The author expresses admiration for contemporary classical guitarists like Ana Vidović, whose performances evoke strong emotional reactions.
The author contemplates the idea of reconnecting with Catherine, indicating a desire to revisit past influences and perhaps reconcile their musical past with their present.

On a classical guitar tune

I remember a very pretty young woman. She had a slender figure, curly brown hair, green eyes, and nimble fingers that strummed majestically on the neck of a classical guitar. It was twenty-five or thirty years ago, in the early nineties. With her, I discovered the guitar and fell in love with it.

I stayed a little more than a year with them, my charming teacher and my favorite instrument. My parents had told me that she was sad that I chose to take up Jazz and electric guitar, abandoning her lessons for another guitar teacher.

She must be in her sixties now. Catherine. That was her name, and I hope with all my heart that it still resonates today. I’m talking about my teacher, not my classical guitar, although I could have given her a name. This guitar, I know, is no longer alive today.

It lived through some painful moments in the hands of my best friend’s little brother, who didn’t hesitate to put his nerves on it when he wasn’t happy. I had given him my guitar because he also wanted to start playing music. The poor thing ended up in a bad state. I don’t blame him, of course.

I’m back from my sister’s and I’m enjoying a few days at home before I leave for the South West on Friday morning. I still have a few days to go before I pack my suitcase and put my surfboard in my car.

By the way, and this disturbs me a bit, despite having spent a nice time with my sister and my three nieces, I felt wonderfully relieved after being at home on Sunday night, alone with my reading and my words. Like a little fox returning to the comfort of his den after a night out braving all the dangers.

I guess that’s pretty common among homebody, introvert and hypersensitive people. Yes, I am all of these things at once, and it’s not easy to live with every day. Those of you who are like me know what I mean: that feeling of security and comfort when we are back in our own home, in our own environment, with no one around.

Classical music comforts me. When I found the magical fingering of Croatian guitarist Ana Vidović by chance a few months ago, my eyes began to glow and my body to tingle.

Tonight, when I watched one of her latest concerts recorded at St. Mark’s Lutheran Church in San Francisco, my heart raced. That’s when I thought of Catherine when I was only seven years old.

I would love to see her again, to see her eyes, to see her hands again. Is the classical guitar still part of her life? And me, should I reconnect with the one who made me discover music? More questions, always questions…