11/29/22 How 50 Drunk Wedding Guests Taught Me How to Play the Violin

Not many people know...

...that I used to be a wedding singer. I used to sing everything from Frank Sinatra to the current hits. It was part of how I paid the rent after getting out of Juilliard.

And in some ways, wedding gigs taught me more about playing the violin than 4 years at a conservatory. 

Because there I was, performing a solo set in front of a wall of priceless Rembrandt etchings a few weeks ago at the opening of an art exhibit.

And as I was launching into my 2nd tune, my mind suddenly flashed back to the image of a crowded dance floor at a wedding I had played 30 years ago on Long Island.

I remembered that feeling of having 50 or 60 fairly inebriated people crowded in front of the band, singing along, fist pumping or air-guitaring and altogether just having a blast.

And I remembered the feeling of fueling that flame and the foolproof secret we would use to get them out there dancing like fools.

And what was the foolproof secret??

Dancing.

The best way to get people to dance is to dance.

And, believe me, that doesn’t mean you have to be good at it. In fact, in some ways, it’s more effective and relatable if you aren’t. 

But you do have to be uninhibited about moving.

And that was one of the things I liked best about being a wedding singer. I got to be crazy.

In fact, the more I moved, the more they moved.

The more I threw my hands around, the more they did.

The more I jumped around, the more they did.

I had discovered the Law of Reflectivity!

If you want people to dance to your music, dance while you make your music.

And that’s because “rhythmic music comes from rhythmic movement.”

That’s become a refrain in all my Strum Bowing workshops and in my book, The Strum Bowing Method. In fact, I devote a whole chapter to it called “The Dance of the Groove: The Power of Physicalizing.”

So, why was I flashing back to a bunch of drunk guests at a long-forgotten wedding while standing in a room full of Rembrandts?

Because I wanted my tune, Matisse, to groove. I wanted it to make you feel like dancing.

So I conjured up that physical energy of that crowd of inebriated wedding guests, and I let my leash out a little longer than on the previous Bach piece I had just played, and let the Law of Reflectivity do its magic.

Grove on!

--Tracy