Plays well with others

I've been playing English handbells with a church group for a couple of months now. Like everything, the experience has been edifying. Like everything, handbell playing can a metaphor -- even a parable!

Prepare to be edified.

I can read music. I can play works by Scott Joplin and Ludwig von Beethoven on the piano. Some of those composers' chords entail playing five notes at a time. And that's just with the right hand. The left hand might have to deal with six notes (since the thumb can be counted on to strike two notes at once in a literal pinch.) The rhythm, the tempo can be whatever I want them to be. In general, I want Beethoven's molto vicace and prestissimo movements to proceed at an adagio, even largo, pace. Translation: let the masters play complicated phrases fast. No one is watching me or listening. In other words the victim (the score, that is) is all in my hands to do with as I will --- hhrrrraaahhhaaahhaa!

There's no need to watch a conductor. There's no conductor to watch. There's no fear of drowning out anyone or being drowned out by anyone. This is a one-man band, my piano and me.

The challenge of playing in a group is fitting in. But fitting in with bells is a far different thing than fitting into a high school band (I played an alto saxophone.) In a band or orchestra you play whole phrases, even whole movements -- even whole pieces. Sometimes you don't even have to count the beats in a measure since the tooting is continuous.

But what if you're only playing B natural and C natural. And not all the Bs or all the Cs in a composition. Just the ones that are an octave below middle C. Counting is absolutely necessary. But don't just think about the beats. Remember the half beats: one AND two AND three . . . . Also, remember COUNTING IS NOT ENOUGH! Watch the conductor. He or she will want the playing to get louder or softer or louder then softer, faster or slower or faster then slower . . . But don't take your eyes off the score completely. Watch the conductor with one eye and the score with the other.

I think all this synchronization is why I had an intuition that bell-ringing might be edifying. Synchronizing with a dozen other musicians while being attentive to a conductor -- a conductor with an incredible sense of pitch, who knows when you've played D instead of C or vice versa. It seems supernatural to me when he gently reminds me that C is the left bell and D is the right -- for the 10th time.

In my life in general I've been able to sneak out of socialization and synchronization. Doing things with my wife and children was about the extent of it. I made my living as a journalist. Somehow I managed to be unusually detached from editors. I felt like a farmer in a way -- just tend your crop and harvest it on time. If the buyer wants to chop it to pieces and turn it into goulash -- well, at least I'll get a check on Friday.

As far as I know, there are no virtuoso soloists in the world of bell-ringing, just journeymen and journey women toiling away like members of a medieval guild. Of course there is lots of opportunity for increased proficiency. It's not all C natural and D natural. I myself, novice that I am, have been called upon to play not just B, but also B-flat. It is not too much to imagine that the day will come when I'll see not just an E -- but also an E-flat. And not just to be rung, but to be struck with a mallet.

And watch the conductor. And coordinate with the person standing next to you, decide who is going to turn the page.