Article on Left Handed Fiddling in Strings, August 2001

(After I wrote the following article I began collecting information for my book: Playing Violin and Fiddle Left Handed, which is a compendium of info on left handed playing from the experiences of over 100 other lefty players.)

Letter from a Leftie

I suggest equal time for lefties. I've heard every theory that purports to explain why violinists shouldn't play left-handed, including the idea that the orchestra looks better when everyone is bowing in the same direction. I'm not so sure. . . . The unusual nature of an entirely left-handed orchestra might enable it to collect higher performance fees. For even greater visual enjoyment, imagine an orchestra where the first violinists bow left-handed, and the seconds bow right-handed!

The only theory that really makes any sense rests on the scarcity of left-handed violins. Unfortunately for me, I'm a right-handed person with no choice in my playing style, since a medical disability forced me to switch from right to left in order to keep playing at all.
In earlier days, before my physical troubles began, I won the Northeast Regional Award at the National Fiddle Contest in Weiser, Idaho, and I was honored to receive my trophy on stage along with Mark O'Connor, who had won the Northwestern Award in the same competition.

I later became a full-time musician, toured with a hot Nashville country-rock band, and delighted in a life of performing, teaching, and publishing books about fiddling and music through Captain Fiddle Publications. All this changed after my disability took full effect-but I was determined to relearn the violin. After nearly four years of futile efforts to retrain my defective right shoulder to bow, it occurred to me to try left-handed playing. Now, observers often ask me why I play left-handed. (Know-it-all types don't start with a question; they merely inform me in an annoying way that I'm playing violin "wrong.") To those who ask politely, I explain that a disability prevents my playing right-handed.

Subsequent questions are often about the nature of my disability: tendinitis, carpal tunnel, or traumatic injury? If someone indicates a sincere interest, I will tell the whole story about an inherited neurological disease called focal dystonia. Otherwise, I may nod vaguely at the mention of a typical overuse injury. This often causes proponents of non-Western medicine to lecture me until I explain patiently that before I was properly diagnosed, I spent several years trying acupuncture, pressure-point therapy, Rolfing, chiropractic work, and Eastern healing techniques, as well as standard Western-style physical therapy, orthopedic analysis, and expensive testing (and I didn't have health insurance at the time).

People then ask how long it took to become "good" again, once I'd decided to become a leftie. It's been a gradual process, and I've found it interesting to see which playing techniques have transferred from right to left. I was one of those who, when drawing the bow right-handed across the strings for the first time, made a pleasing sound. No such luck when playing left-handed! My first few days produced torrents of scratches and squawks worse than anything that came from my beginning fiddle students. It didn't seem to matter that I diligently applied techniques based upon years of experience as a player and teacher.

In fact, after 20 years of playing right-handed, my entire body resisted retraining. My brain ordered my left hand to control vibrato, but unfortunately my left hand was now holding the bow. My right arm wanted to bend at the elbow and make bowing motions, but it was now supposed to be supporting the neck of the violin. An unexpected difficulty was my need to relearn sight-reading on violin. Since the strings on my left-handed violin were reversed, I would read notes to be played on the A string and play them on the D string, and vice versa. I would similarly head for the G string to play notes written for the E string. I understood the problem intellectually, but it took time to get my body to cooperate.

My natural ability to improvise was the hardest thing to recapture. I had to control my bowing and fingering very closely. If I relaxed and began playing instinctively, my limbs became confused and my playing ground to a halt. Beside the physical work of having to relearn from scratch, I also experienced depression from feeling so distant from my former playing abilities. It was emotionally devastating to have lost the ability to express myself through my violin. I craved the pleasure of making good music and tried to compensate by improving my piano skills and learning to play the accordion.

Even now, my left arm isn't particularly coordinated. I've compensated with extra bow practice. Achieving control over right-hand fingering and intonation has also been harder than I expected. (My experience contrasts with the traditional view that fingering should be easier with the dominant hand, an argument often used to convince lefties to play right-handed). My right hand is slightly larger than my left, though, which makes stretching for intervals easier.

My disability is confined to the back muscles that ordinarily stabilize the shoulder to enable precise bowing. Because my right hand and forearm work normally, I can easily play mandolin, banjo, flute, guitar, accordion, and piano in standard fashion. I have two dilemmas to deal with, however. First, any tune or technique that I formerly played on right-handed violin must be completely relearned for left-handed violin playing. Second, I formerly found it easy to transfer a fiddle tune to mandolin, since both instruments have the same configuration.

Pieces that I learn on the left-handed violin now need to be relearned to play on a right-handed mandolin because of the reversed string order. Sometimes I'll forget whether I've learned the right-handed mandolin version of a tune first learned on left-handed fiddle, and I don't find out until I actually try to play it. (I've had poor results playing a left-handed mandolin because of the difficulty of controlling a pick with my left hand.)

With lots of practice however, I am becoming more efficient at making right-to-left and left-to-right conversions. Left-handed playing has also greatly improved my teaching skills. Having had to learn to play violin twice has clarified my memories of what it was like to be a beginner. And a surprising discovery is that students can easily learn techniques by watching me, since my left-handed playing matches what they see when they play in front of a mirror.

Hard work has prevailed, and I'm finally playing folk fiddle at an advanced level again. My passion is playing dances, including Irish ceilis, contra and square dances, Cajun, and swing dances. I've also taken up a couple of weekly chamber-music sessions. (My chamber-music coach loves the fact that I play left-handed, because it's much easier to orient all members of our quartet toward the audience when we're performing.)

I'm excited to be playing the violin again, and I strongly encourage other disabled players to seek alternative ways of making music. I've learned a lot in the process, and I'd be happy to share my thoughts and experiences. Come visit me at my Web site, at captainfiddle.com, and send me your e-mail.

Ryan Thomson