This fiddle is part of a living heritage: My father learned to play it (though not for long); one of my siblings got to Grade 8 on it – and I took it over when I started to learn many years ago.
I love it, though I don’t practise enough and am technically pretty inaccurate. But the gift of music has been passed down the generations of my family and, although Son does not play this particular instrument, he has certainly inherited a considerable talent for music (far greater than mine, if I am honest!).
It touches me to think that this one violin was tucked under the chin of a small boy in the thirties, a little girl in the late sixties and early seventies and now belongs to a fifty-something women; it touches me to think that blood kinship and music connect us and that, when I am gone, this beautiful fiddle will grace the next generation to come into the world.
Living heritage indeed!