I am a voice teacher in training, an actor, a language and travel enthusiast, and a person who plays the violin. I have always engaged in varied disciplines and often rejected the notion that we’re supposed to pick just one thing. For me, this multidisciplinary lifestyle works, but spreading my time and energy in several directions sometimes makes me feel like I’m not good enough at any one thing. However, at this point in my life, I have come to terms with the fact that I won’t be the world's best violinist. I just want to keep experiencing the joy of playing music despite the nagging frustration of knowing what kind of violin player I could be, if only I committed fully to it. There have been years where I “put in the work,” thinking I might pursue it full-time professionally, while other years I put the violin down for months at a time and thought about quitting for good.
In order to maintain a sense of balance in my life, I had to change my mindset: I learned to regard myself not as a violinist, but as a person who plays the violin. Taking away the inclination to define myself by my violin-playing has helped me release a lot of guilt and anxiety around not putting in enough time. I used to think I had to give it all or nothing; if I wasn’t the best, I didn’t deserve to keep playing. I’ve learned how to let go – how to let playing music be a source of joy that ebbs and flows in my life. In releasing the pressure, I have discovered the greatest reason to keep playing: music connects. My violin has been a constant source for connection over the years – to people around the world, to audiences, and to myself. It’s a vehicle to express my own unique voice, and serves as another way to communicate with the world around me.
Our voices are important – important enough to me that I am working towards an MFA in the Linklater Teaching Practice and Theatre Arts, in London. The Linklater teaching practice, in short, is a methodology developed by Kristin Linklater and helps actors find freedom in expression through the voice. I want to help others find and express their true and authentic voice. I find playing the violin is an extension of my voice. The voice expresses thoughts, feelings, and emotions, all of which represent a person uniquely and intimately. In my studies I have learned that vocal communication happens when the impulse or need to communicate triggers breath intake, and the vocal folds oscillate to create sound on the way out, resonating in the bony hollows of the chest and head. We can look at playing an instrument as the same process, but instead of the sound beginning in our throat, our arms and hands and and fingers play upon strings, keys, frets, or buttons. Everything I play on my instrument traces back to me, which I have learned to value, even if it doesn’t sound perfect.
Despite being in London to study voice, I still felt the desire to keep playing the violin. Coincidentally, there happened to be a traditional Irish music session at an Irish pub near my flat. A huge part of my violin background is in playing traditional Celtic music. Irish music sessions are typically considered open jams, welcoming any Celtic players, although they don’t always feel very welcoming. This group of warm individuals, however, welcomed me with bright smiles, hearty laughs, and many pints of Guinness. Every Sunday I took up my spot between two stellar traditional players and Irishmen: Foxy on the banjo and John on the accordion. I listened and laughed as they swapped hilarious stories of playing music in London and Ireland from before I was even born. They told stories about the very people who composed the tunes I played my whole life, providing an entirely new insight into the music I thought I knew. I began to understand how important storytelling is to the Irish – how much they value a good hook-line and sinker. I started to see the music as a means of storytelling for the Irish community, as if the music is their legacy to pass on to future generations.
In my life, music has been a consistent thread through nearly all of my most memorable experiences. When I leave it to pursue something else, it finds a way back into my life. I have learned to release the pressure around it I used to hold, and I’m so grateful for all the people and connections it has brought into my life. I’m allowed to keep playing even if I’m not the best. Our voices are beautifully unique, and people want to hear what we have to say, in our own special way of saying it. We can let go of the need to sound perfect. I am not defined by my instrument – I am a whole human that has so much more to offer. As long as we boldly share ourselves through each of our respective art forms, letting our own unique voices come through, we invite connection wherever we go.
Casey McGinty is an actor, musician, and voice teacher in training. Casey is a graduate student at Rose Bruford College (London) working towards an MFA in the Linklater Teaching Practice (Voice & Theatre Arts), as well as becoming a Designated Linklater Teacher. In 2020, she directed The Vagina Monologues at ArtsQuest in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and has performed as Donna in Tony & Tina’s Wedding (Bethlehem and New Jersey productions). Casey is a Celtic fiddle player and has played regionally with PA bands including Fig for a Kiss, The Groove Merchants, and Bovine Social Club. She recently performed in London at the British Country Music Association Fan Fest.
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