This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
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This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
Thumb Position: A Path Toward Mastering a Dreaded Cello Technique
Strings Stories
9 minutes
7 months ago
Thumb Position: A Path Toward Mastering a Dreaded Cello Technique
This story was written by Emily Wright for the March-April 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by editor Megan Westberg. There’s an old Monty Python skit where a husband and wife are discussing what could be scraped together for dessert after a horrendous dinner. The wife begins listing the options: rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, and strawberry tart. The husband is suspicious of the innocent-sounding option, and after a beat, his wife admits there is some rat in the tart... S...
Strings Stories
This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
