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Did you learn to play a musical instrument as a child? Have you ever wished you had kept it up? Were your piano lessons a miserable experience? I am sure there are loads of you out there who secretly wish you could get up there during that folk/jazz/blues jamming session!

I am a born again fiddle player. Here’s how it happened. As a child I learnt to play the piano. Nothing to do with pushy parents, it was my own choice at the age of 6, and I played it every single day that I was at home, until the age of 18. All emotions, joys, frustrations, angers, worries and excitements were bashed out on those keys. Tore through the grades, did duet exams too (with Rachel) and loved Beethoven to bits (especially the loud crashy ones).

Somewhere along the line my music teachers and I thought it might be a good idea to learn a second instrument, something a tad more, well, portable. Our school music department had a deal with a local instrument sellers and after trying out a few things I plumped for the violin, for reasons which are forever lost.

I offer sincere sympathy to all those family members and neighbours who have experienced a learner violinist. Consider: on a piano, you hit the notes and they make a sound which is reasonable to the ear (assuming the instrument is in tune). After 5 minutes even the most musically inadequate could pick out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star without too much trauma for the listener. But a violin beginner? Oh my. A column of tightly wound metal strings, a piece of wood strung with horse hair, and an 8-year old set of fingers….I am sure there are people out there who made a beautiful sound the moment they picked up the instrument. I was not one of them.

Several years of torture followed, during which I managed to convince some folk that I could play the violin, but I never convinced myself. In the safety of the school orchestra I could hide (in sound, at least) behind trumpets and timpani, but as a soloist I was woeful. Vibrato? My teacher gave up after 5 years. Third position? One tutor pulled no punches in describing my efforts as ‘a complete dog’s breakfast’. I spent the last two years in the orchestra lusting after the double bass player and smoking in the loos with the flautists. At the age of 18 I left home and never played the instrument again. Until now……


We came here 4 years ago. Amongst the items transported by Orkney’s leading removals firm was my violin - dusty, unloved and unplayed. It wasn’t long before the traditional music scene made its presence felt in the form of concerts, buskers, dances, the pubs at the end of May (Folk Festival time) and loads of wonderful CDs. Orkney has achieved something remarkable, I think, in making traditional music cool amongst young people. In my day the real saddos played music, but here it seems to be a positive thing. I watched in awe and envy as 15-year-olds made playing seem as natural as breathing!

Anyway. About two years ago my husband bought me a book of Orkney fiddle tunes and I decided to open the case (wooden, shaped like a coffin) and dust away over 20 years of neglect and old rosin. I squawked, scraped and squealed and the cats ran for their lives, shooting me dirty looks as they went. I practiced in secret for a year, so no-one would hear me. A local instrument maker and fixer restrung the bow, which was looking more like rats’ tails than horse hair, and after a fierce Breton drink on a friend’s boat, I played in public for the first time since I was a teenager. The space on the boat was so cramped the fiddle was practically on my knee and I couldn’t even draw back half a bow length without knocking a hole in the wall. I was not, contrary to all expectation, laughed out of court, but that may have been more due to the fierce Breton drink.

Finally, quaking, I plucked up the courage to head along to the school on a Thursday night to join local musicians aged from cool teens to even cooler 70s and 80s. I knew I had come to the right place when we had a break half way through which featured a cup of tea and a slice of clootie dumpling. With 12 accordions at my back, I know no fear, and what I lack in technique I make up for in enthusiasm. Plus there are very few traditional tunes in E flat minor, thank God. Laughably, I am now known as the fiddler who was ‘classically trained’, and I am building up my repertoire of Orkney and Shetland tunes. I still have a bit of a handicap in that I have to read the music - how else will I know where the repeats are? Oh, and my vibrato is coming on a treat.

In the hope that IB won’t mind a shameless plug for a community event, the annual concert is on Friday 14 March in the Stromness Academy. See you there!