The First Step! For Those Just Starting the Cello
Taking Lessons! I Just Want to Play!
Supportive Boss, Nearby Teacher
How to Start – Finding a Teacher
Strict, Gentle, and Tough Teachers
Creating Music & Phrase Endings
Mental Practice When Short on Time
How to Create a Beautiful Tone
Why You Might Not Be Improving
Balancing Work, Life, and Cello
How Improvement Happens – All at Once
Too Much Practice Can Harm Your Hands
Sometimes, I recall what it felt like to be a beginner. There was a big gap between the pieces I wanted to play and the ones I could actually manage. There were so many techniques and challenges ahead—it all felt like an overwhelming mountain, and I remember feeling dizzy and stunned by its height.
Looking at that mountain was so intimidating that I chose not to look up at it. Instead, I focused only on the small steps at my feet—the scales and etudes I could practice each day. Once in a while, I’d glance back and try playing pieces I had previously studied, only to realize with surprise how far I had come. A piece I once thought was difficult now felt a bit easier. I could see a beautiful view from where I stood. Then, I turned forward again and climbed one more step, focusing on the next bit of music.
I hope you will also treasure each small step in your practice. Keep going—you’re climbing higher than you think!
I began learning the cello when I was 26 years old. Until then, I had never imagined myself playing the instrument. So how did I end up with a cello? My city built a new cultural hall and started a community orchestra. There was a recruitment notice in the city bulletin, and my friend said, “I want to join, but I’m nervous going alone. Will you come with me?”
At that time, I was just going back and forth between work and home, looking for something fun to do. I had learned piano as a child and could read music, and I was somewhat interested in string instruments, so I decided to go along, even if just to listen. I had never touched a string instrument before.
When we spoke to the orchestra coordinator, we were told that beginners were welcome on strings, but that we should take lessons. I was considering violin or maybe viola, but the concertmistress said, “If you’re a beginner, violin or cello doesn’t matter—but we need a cellist, so you’ll be a cellist.” She even introduced me to a cello teacher right on the spot. And just like that, I became a cellist without any say in the matter.
Luckily, the cello teacher lived just five minutes from my house. My boss was supportive, and I began taking weekly lessons.
Usually, people study for years before joining an amateur orchestra. In my case, I joined first and started lessons after. Looking back, it was a reckless decision—but I was young, and it worked out. In the beginning, I couldn’t even follow the sheet music. I just played the parts I could. But I faithfully attended every rehearsal, motivated by the post-practice hangouts with fellow members.
So you see, I didn’t start cello with burning passion. It was a passive start. But before I knew it, I had become completely obsessed with it.
My first goal was simple: I wanted to play well enough not to be a burden in the amateur orchestra. I wanted to become a contributing member as soon as possible, so I worked hard and took lessons seriously.
I had taken piano lessons from kindergarten through the first year of middle school. After that, I would just buy sheet music for songs I liked and play at home. Since I could play for fun without lessons, I quit.
I was satisfied for a while, until I heard a friend who had continued lessons play. Even though the piece was simple, her performance was beautiful and musical. Compared to that, my playing was a noisy mess—rushing through difficult pieces I couldn’t handle.
I deeply regretted quitting lessons. If I had continued, I might have been able to play beautifully too. So with the cello, I vowed not to repeat the same mistake. I would continue lessons as long as I could.
You can make some progress practicing on your own. But solid lessons will help you build proper technique and reach higher levels. The better you play, the more you can enjoy music. “Slow and steady wins the race” applies to cello practice too. I wanted to improve quickly, so I trained steadily from the basics.
Learning cello technique takes years. If you can master something in a week, you’re a genius!
Often, something you’ve been struggling with for months suddenly clicks one day. I always practice believing that day will come.
On lesson days, I’d beg my boss to let me leave early. Thankfully, my boss was supportive of my lessons.
My teacher lived just five minutes away, so I could come home, grab my cello, and walk to my lesson. Even when I was tired after work, I could still make it to class. If the teacher had been far away, I probably would have quit early on.
People often say, “If you start learning an instrument as an adult, you won’t get very far.” Most people seem to believe this. But when I mentioned it to an American teacher at an English school, they were surprised: “We’ve never heard that in the U.S. What matters more is whether you have talent. There’s no point forcing untalented kids to start early.”
If your goal is to become a professional, starting as an adult might be too late. But if you just want to enjoy music as a hobby, there’s no problem at all.
Some adults assume from the start, “I’ll never get good anyway,” and don’t even try. That’s such a waste!
Here’s how to start:
Finding the right teacher is important, so don’t be afraid to switch until you find one that clicks. Don’t force yourself to continue with someone who doesn’t suit you. It’s best if you can find someone you respect as a person too.
If it’s your first cello, it’s best to set a budget and ask your teacher to help you choose.
Other ways to buy a cello:
Here’s my cello journey:
My current cello was made by a French luthier based in Offenburg, Germany (about 30 minutes by train from Strasbourg, France). He studied violin-making in the UK under Roger Hargrave and won multiple awards, including gold at the Cremona competition in Italy.
So it’s hard to define the cello as “German” or “French.”
My teacher says it sounds “very French.” A Japanese luthier who examined it said, “This was made by someone who studied in the UK, right? Under Roger Hargrave? I knew it!” Locals call it “German” just based on the label.
But experienced European luthiers recognize its true origins best.
● Metronome — Become best friends with it!
● Recording device — Acts like a personal tutor.
I’m still figuring out what recording tools are best. I started with Sony’s “Okeiko Teleco” cassette recorder. Then I used Sony’s “Okeiko MD” and an IC recorder. The MD was great, but they’re nearly extinct now. IC recorders require computer transfers, which feels like a hassle. I’m thinking of switching to something that saves to SD cards.
I usually buy sheet music online because I live in a rural area where cello scores are hard to find in stores.
When the exchange rate is favorable, I order from overseas shops—they’re much cheaper!
There’s a saying, “Learn from a master,” and I truly believe that. A teacher will only expect their students to do what they themselves can do. If they can do it, they’ll say, “Of course you can too! Just practice and you’ll get there.” But if they can’t do it, they’ll say, “No need to worry about that. Try an easier way,” and lower the standard.
If you’re a hobbyist but still want to go as far as you can, find the best teacher you can. The better the teacher, the higher you’ll be able to climb.
I’ve had lessons from several teachers. My first was a member of a professional local orchestra, and I studied with them weekly for eight years. Then I started taking monthly lessons from a principal cellist in a different prefecture. That’s been ten years now. I also regularly took masterclasses with Jeremy Findlay, and have had lessons with Ryosuke Hori, Young-Song Won, and chamber music instruction from Predrag Katanic. All of them were warm, humorous, and wonderful teachers.
To be a professional musician, you need more than just skill—you need to be a good person. No one wants to work with someone who’s difficult, no matter how skilled they are. Given the choice between someone equally skilled and someone likable, people will always choose the likable one.
So even if I had become a pro, I probably wouldn’t have survived. My personality isn’t the best (lol).
There are many types of teachers. I’ve always chosen kind ones. But being kind doesn’t mean they go easy on teaching, and being strict doesn’t necessarily mean they teach well.
Some people say getting scolded motivates them—but if you can’t motivate yourself unless someone yells at you, maybe this hobby isn’t for you. After all, this is supposed to be fun!
My ideal teacher analyzes your playing, explains clearly what’s not working and what to fix, and gives logical, concrete practice methods. Just shouting, “Practice more! Grrr!” won’t help. You can’t improve with sheer willpower—you need calm, logical instruction.
With logical guidance, you can figure out solutions for yourself and create your own strategies for improvement.
I went through them all—Werner, Dotzauer, Duport, Popper... Alongside these etudes, I also practiced daily exercises, Loeb’s scale books, and Sevcik.
I spent years doing right-hand training with Sevcik. The exercises are dull, monotonous, and honestly quite boring, but thanks to them, I learned spiccato and sautillé. If you want to play Elgar’s second movement, Pezzo Capriccioso, or Hungarian Rhapsody, you can’t avoid these techniques!
Even though it was mind-numbing, Sevcik gave me a lot. It’s boring, but worth the effort!
Making music, singing melodies, expressing emotion—it’s difficult, isn’t it? After lots of trial and error, I came to feel that musical analysis is key.
By analyzing music, you can view the entire structure more clearly. Playing without analysis is like walking through a forest path without a map. With analysis, it’s like seeing the forest from above—you understand where the path leads, where the ponds and turns are. You can plan ahead and memorize more easily.
Phrasing is like language—endings matter. Just like different speech endings can change the nuance, the way you end a musical phrase changes its feel. Even one note, depending on how it ends, can alter the mood.
Imagination is important too! I sometimes make up stories to help shape the music.
Working adults don’t have much time to practice. Unlike students, we can’t spend hours every day. So we have to use our heads. Practice smart and aim for maximum results in minimal time.
Don’t waste time on parts you already know—focus on the parts you can’t play yet. Set small goals for each session to keep your practice effective. Even five minutes of focused practice can make a big difference.
When I’m busy at work and get home after midnight, I have no time or energy to practice. In those times, I use mental practice. During breaks, I imagine playing difficult passages in my head. At first, I couldn’t even play them mentally. But after a while, I found that I could. And when I tried it on the cello, I was surprised—it actually worked!
Your hands are controlled by your brain, so training your brain works. By sorting things out mentally first, you avoid wasting time and prevent injury. For lazy people like me, mental practice is perfect!
You can mentally rehearse difficult sections or rhythm variations. It requires the same focus as actual practice. You can do it during short breaks in your day. It might look like you’re just zoning out, but you’re really training!
When I can perfectly play something in my head, I’ve usually memorized it well. But if I forget during mental practice, even though I can play it on the cello, that means my memory is weak. Try combining physical memory, sound memory, analysis, and logic for more reliable results.
Listening to your own playing is one of the most effective ways to improve. Most of the time, you’ll realize you sound worse than you thought. Recordings are like the strictest teacher—they reveal your weaknesses clearly. But listening to yourself accelerates progress.
When listening to recordings, pay attention to what differs between your performance and that of a professional or your teacher. Consider things like intonation, tone quality, dynamics, and timing. Be honest with yourself about what you’re doing well and what needs work.
I used to use a cassette recorder called “Okeiko Teleco” from Sony, then upgraded to “Okeiko MD.” That was very handy, but MD players are practically extinct now. I then switched to an IC recorder, but saving to a computer was tedious. Now I use a Yamaha recorder that saves to microSD—it’s super easy, and the sound quality is so clear it feels like my teacher is right next to me!
These days, smartphones can record in PCM format, so I think that might be enough for many people now.
First, I always play through the entire piece—even if I can’t play it well yet. This gives me a rough idea of which parts are easy and which are difficult.
Then I start practicing the difficult parts first. Only after that do I practice the easier sections. That’s important!
If I always start from the beginning of the piece, I end up practicing the first page over and over while neglecting the last page. So sometimes I start from the end instead.
I also use transparent sticky notes. I stick them on parts I can’t play yet, and remove them once I’ve mastered the section. That way, I can clearly see which parts still need work. I write down all sorts of notes and reminders on the stickies. Once they’re no longer needed, I can peel them off easily.
I started cello after becoming a working adult, and I paid for everything—lessons, cello, everything—with my own money. I even bought a house with a soundproof room so I could practice anytime. (Yes, I’m still paying off that mortgage...)
Since I’m spending my hard-earned money, I go to each lesson with a strong sense of purpose: “I have to get my money’s worth!” I always record my lessons and listen back at home to review what I learned.
In my opinion, solfege skills are crucial. When I play from sheet music, I unconsciously sing the notes in my head using solfege (do-re-mi). If I can't sing a phrase correctly in my mind, I can't play it properly either.
I compare the pitch I'm playing with the pitch in my head. If they don't match, I adjust accordingly. Of course, this only works if the pitch in your head is accurate.
When I was a beginner, I was taught pitch by positions, like “first finger on the A string is B,” or “first finger on the D string is E.” But once I memorized the fingerboard, I stopped thinking in positions entirely.
When playing, I always sing internally in do-re-mi. Never play while thinking “1-3-1-3-2-4-2-4” (finger numbers)! That won’t help with intonation at all.
One of the things I struggled with most in amateur orchestras was sight-reading. To improve, I bought a book with lots of rhythm exercises and practiced a little each night before bed. I repeated the exercises three times. Gradually, my sight-reading improved. Even a small boost in your reading ability can make a big difference.
Don't interfere with the vibration of the strings. That's the key. You can tell if the string is vibrating beautifully by the pleasant vibration that comes through the bow into your fingers. It should feel smooth and consistent.
Moving the bow straight is fundamental to good bowing. It's easy to develop bad habits, so it's important to revisit the basics regularly.
Try placing a sticky note on the bridge and comparing its alignment with your bow. This lets you check your bow’s position and angle at a glance.
Using a mirror is also very effective. Tilt the mirror slightly forward so it’s perpendicular to the bridge. This gives you the same view your teacher has and helps you check your bowing technique more accurately.
1. You're not studying on your own.
Just sitting and waiting won’t make you better. Learning an instrument is like studying at school—you can’t improve just by attending class. You have to study at home too. Cello is the same. Lessons help, but real progress comes from your own practice.
2. You're relying on finger numbers.
This is a major cause of poor intonation. You should be able to sing the music in solfege with accurate pitch. Memorizing finger numbers may be a shortcut for beginners, but you'll quickly hit a wall if you rely on it too long.
3. You don't know how to practice.
You’re staring at the sheet music, unsure where to start, and just randomly playing through the notes. This wastes time.
Put the cello down and think: Why can't I play this section? What’s the problem? If you don’t identify the cause, you’ll keep struggling in the same way forever.
Common problems include:
I recently discovered some new cello training gadgets. Being the curious person I am, I couldn’t resist trying them!
They’re controversial, but helpful for open string practice. You can’t use them when playing actual pieces, but they’re useful for training a straight bow arm.
If your bowing is crooked (banana-shaped), the bow will bump into the gadget, making it harder to play. That feedback helps you correct your bowing.
After years of playing, I’ve realized that scale practice is critical. I used Loeb and Daily Exercises, but those books can be a bit much for beginners.
The ABRSM scale books are excellent for beginners. The scales are arranged by difficulty, so you can start easy and work your way up. Just follow the order and you’ll improve steadily. I use these books with my students, and their intonation has definitely improved.
The quietest setup is an electric (silent) cello with an additional mute attached. Try to attach the mute firmly to the bridge to block vibration from reaching the body.
Regular cellos with mutes don’t reduce low-frequency sound much. This is a problem if you live with elderly people who often hear low sounds more clearly than high ones.
I finally got a soundproof room two years ago—now I can practice any time, day or night! It took a lot of hard work and saving, but it was worth it.
There’s no clear advantage either way. I’m left-handed and couldn’t even hold chopsticks with my right hand at first—bowing was really difficult.
But I’ve changed my mind a little. Maybe being left-handed gave me an edge?
I once read a paper saying that left-handed people are naturally better at pitch recognition. I never had ear training, and my parents weren’t musical—but I never struggled with pitch.
I used to think right-handed people would have an easier time learning to bow. But now I’m not so sure. Many struggle with it.
Lefties use their right hands more in daily life than righties use their left. I can write or draw diagrams on a whiteboard with either hand. I can even play badminton with both hands. So my left hand is strong and dexterous.
Watching right-handed beginners, it’s clear they’ve barely used their left hands at all. So maybe I really did have an advantage after all!
Honestly... I don’t try to balance them! If you don’t aim for balance, there’s nothing to worry about. Things work themselves out.
My partner and boss were both supportive—and they shared my interests, too.
As a working adult, sometimes the only time to practice is late at night. But watch out—your brain doesn’t work well at that hour.
I used to figure out fingerings at night, only to review them the next morning and wonder, “What was I thinking?!”
Late-night fingerings are often nonsense. Ten minutes in the morning is better than an hour at night.
Progress isn’t always gradual—it can be digital. You might struggle for weeks or months, then suddenly improve overnight.
Even if nothing seems to be changing on the surface, your brain is processing and improving in the background. Be patient and keep going. The results will come.
If you're stuck, take a break. Sleep. Do something different. You'll be amazed what your brain can do while you rest.
You should absolutely participate in recitals! They give you a goal to work toward and let you see how much you’ve grown in a year. Listening to other students is also very motivating.
For adults, the post-recital party is often the real goal. Nothing beats a beer after performing!
Joining an amateur orchestra is a great way to meet like-minded friends and drinking buddies. It also helps you develop sight-reading skills and stage presence.
Orchestras are great for training your ability to listen to others. Playing with others teaches you to follow the conductor, concertmaster, and section leader—and to blend your sound.
Symphonies are often more difficult than solo pieces. They’re less melodic, harder to memorize, and sometimes just not suited to cello. But they’re fun!
Music workshops and masterclasses are not just for music majors—some accept amateurs too. I’ve joined events in Morioka, Ojika Island, and Sasebo. Meeting working adults, high schoolers, and college students who all love cello is inspiring.
I recommend the Ojika International Music Festival Workshop. It's small, local, and not well advertised, so I’ve taken it upon myself to promote it here. Click here for details.
When I was practicing Elgar’s second movement, I worked so hard that my fingers started to go numb. I kept practicing because the recital was close—but things got worse.
Eventually I realized the problem: overuse. After the recital, I rested and recovered.
Next, I had to prepare Pezzo Capriccioso by Tchaikovsky—another fast, difficult piece. This time, I focused on mental practice and limited how much I physically played. It worked beautifully. My hands stayed healthy, and I nailed the recital!
More than a decade ago, my first cello teacher lent me a book called “The Joy of Quartets.” It’s a charming guide for amateur chamber musicians, written before WWII but still relevant today.
It includes lists of string quartets with commentary and difficulty ratings. It also covers trios and mixed ensembles with winds. This book coined the phrase, “A violist is a violinist with a dark past.” (lol)
Be warned: it’s pretty harsh on pianists. (^^;)
Solo Playing:
When you play solo, you focus intensely on pitch, tone, and expression. But you might lose awareness of your surroundings.
Amateur Orchestra:
In orchestras, you must listen to others, watch the conductor and section leaders, and match your timing and tone. But you might become careless about your own sound, especially if others around you are playing beautifully.
Playing symphonies can be surprisingly hard. Solos are often easier because they’re melodic and easier to memorize. Some orchestra parts feel like they weren’t really written for cello!
After focusing on solo work for a while, my ensemble skills dropped. So I rejoined an amateur orchestra to rebalance. You should do both—solo and ensemble—for a richer musical life.
I’m usually the kind of person who does her own thing and ignores the crowd (my school report cards said so every year). But when I’m in an orchestra, I tune into everyone around me like a telepath. You need all your senses on high alert to play well in an ensemble!
Think of it this way: when you play solo, you’re the painter. In an orchestra, the conductor is the painter—you’re just the paint. So be the best, most beautiful paint you can be.
Playing an instrument might suit analytical thinkers better than rote learners...