Bio

I began studying music at age 4, having shown interest in the records he would play after dinner and on special occasions. I started piano lessons, which were wildly frustrating and stressful. Reading two lines of music at once overwhelmed me, I had no idea how to practice, and sight reading caused actual panic. My ear was strong, though, and I felt such a jolt of satisfaction when I heard music late at night through my bedroom wall and then would race to the piano to play the theme from Taxi, Cheers, or Hill Street Blues when I woke up. A few years into my studies, I was taken to play for a pianist of some renown in Los Angeles, who looked my father straight in the face and pronounced with disdain, “…well, she is certainly not wunderkind, to be sure.” I labored on with the piano until age 12, but the snotty dismissal of my absolutely average piano skill made a huge impression on me. It would begin as a chip on my shoulder that later developed into a sense of activism against the cult of the child prodigy so many instructors seem to participate in. One thing to know about me: while I admire and enjoy the miracle of the 5 year old who plays perfect Beethoven, I am not interested in the system of music education and culture that reveres them above all. And I know—actually know—that a devoted individual can do marvelous things with music no matter when they choose to begin. I know because I am one of them. I know because my students demonstrate it every day. So if you’re reading this and looking for a sign that your dreams are not nonsense, this is that sign, my friend.

Catherine Graff MacLaughlin was my first cello teacher, and she taught me so much about everything. Music, history, teaching, listening, navigating interpersonal relationships, protocol in different ensembles, and perhaps most importantly, how to show up for the people you love. She loved me dearly, and ours was the first relationship to show me what unconditional love looks like. Until her passing in 2014, she was among my most vocal and reliable supporters. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel her influence. Memories of her are a hug for my heart, and I try to live in a way that would make her proud.


It was Cathy who insisted I start doing more serious competitions and festivals, and with her encouragement, I attended ISOMATA (now called Idyllwild Arts) during the summers of middle and high school. It was there that I had the opportunity to study with Hans Jørgen Jensen, who is responsible for so much of the way I conduct lessons. He showed me that you can be incredibly serious and technical while also being joyful and humorous. It is my experience in his summer studio that planted the seed that I might want to make teaching a big part of my life. I am so grateful for the publication of Cello Mind, as it is full of reminders of my time with Hans that continues to help me refine my practice and the way I approach my curricular choices.


In my sophomore year of high school, Cathy recognized that I was using our lessons more as therapy than a tool for musical advancement, so she got me an audition into Ron Leonard‘s private studio. Of course, she maintained her position as my “cello mom”, but I needed a push in a different direction to make sure I could get into and succeed at the conservatory. My father and I drove 90 minutes to USC or Ron’s house in the hills above Tarzana, and I felt the gulf between what he expected of me and what I was bringing every time. I scrambled to pick up the ideas about technique and interpretation that giants of modern pedagogy Leonard Rose and Orlando Cole had passed onto him; for years, I thought I had squandered our time together. In retrospect, like any earnest student, I was improving all the time. But I was also going through wild times at school and at home while being a teenager. Regardless, our work together secured me admittance into a number of music programs. Much later, when I was living in London during a year abroad, I hauled out the reams of notes from my lessons with Ron. I realized that I had internalized about a third of what he offered, and that the other two thirds were still available to me. During a cold, rainy winter break, I snuck into the music building, set up camp in my favorite practice room, and started my technical approach to playing over from scratch. I followed each of the underlined missives from my lessons. By the time the school year was back in session, I was finally playing like a Ron Leonard student. But I’m getting ahead of myself!


Starting in 1995, I attended Cal State Northridge as an undergrad, and was instantly immersed the Los Angeles music world, particularly the jazz, rock, and experimental music scenes. I was allowed to minor in jazz, and my time spent with Gary Pratt, George Heussenstamm, Ladd MacIntosh, Lesa Terry, and Matt Harris absolutely exploded my limited ideas about what a life in music could look like. These incredible artists were so generous and patient with me, Gary in particular taking me under his wing. I will never be able to fully express or pay back their investment in me. I am humbled by their teachings, and every time I improvise, or write a string arrangement, or teach someone about chord theory, I am drawing upon their wisdom.

From 1998-2000, I was largely in the United Kingdom, a place that immediately felt like home to me. I initially went over on a year of exchange, but went right back after securing a work visa. My plan was to move there permanently! During my studies at Kingston Uni, I still played cello, but my main focus was music technology. I was wrestling with an ongoing injury and knew that diversifying my skillset would help me keep a foothold in music. This side quest ended up being fortuitous: times were tough when I got back to Los Angeles in 2000, and when I put out the word that I was looking for work, a composer who had previously hired me as a contractor and cellist recruited me to write some additional music for a few reality shows he was having a tough time keeping up on. This turned into a nearly decade-long arrangement, and although I can’t talk about which shows they were, if you watched network television between 2000 and 2011, you probably heard something I wrote!

Between 2001 and 2010, I built a teaching studio with every possible type of student in it: from tiny kids too small to hold even a 1/8 sized cello, to proto professionals filling the gaps in their training. Over time, my studio swelled with one particular student: adults who other teachers would not accept. I quickly realized that the same curricular choices and approach were not right for these learners, and was astounded at the progress they made, despite the warnings I received from colleagues that they were difficult and not “worth my time”.

It was my experience with this wonderful cohort that made me want to learn more about the adult brain and the effect music has on it; and how best to teach learners of all ages. In 2010, I moved to Baltimore to begin an interdisciplinary program of study at the Johns Hopkins University, where I studied the neurobiology of learning (which is much more fun than it sounds) and curriculum design for adults (also more fun than it sounds). Since then, I have done all kinds of stuff while maintaining a steady group of private students and regular performances: from teaching English and writing at Montgomery College, music appreciation, theory, and history at Anne Arundel Community College, studying viticulture and enology at UC Davis, and occasionally writing music for film and tv. It’s not the typical life of a professional musician, but I find that having a number of interests and the ability to be a professional in multiple industries means I don’t have to rely on music to be anything other than what it is: my heart’s truest, fondest desire; the best thing ever. It’s never just a job.

About my approach


My approach can be called technique-centric and I create individually tailored curriculua designed to guide students of all backgrounds and ambitions to their goals. The idea is to combine the mental game with cello technique and a broad overview of musical concepts and historical context, preparing students regardless of whether they continue with the cello for years or decide to change to another instrument after the initial trial period. Music reading is taught from day one, and this robustly technical approach includes solo works, scales and studies chosen specifically for each student. I encourage and prepare my studio for auditions, recitals, competitions and summer music festivals. While these are not mandatory, they are extremely valuable and help turn a player into an artist. Adults, whether beginners or well-developed veterans can expect to realize their musical aspirations, so long as they maintain a solid schedule of lessons and practice. At any one time, my students can be found playing in professional and semi-professional orchestras, bands, and chamber groups around the country. I pride myself in being different from many string teachers who subscribe to the myth that one has to be born with the cello in hand in order to make it a meaningful part of life. A memoir, entitled Never Too Late was written on this very subject, and should be required reading for the late beginner. My own text, A Modern Cellist’s Manual, was published in 2010. It fell out of print when my publisher was acquired, and that may be for the best: a second edition that is more reflective of my revised philosophy is in the works, as is a follow up volume. Speaking of writing, I am also an associate editor at Strings magazine, a position that has allowed me to interview some of the most remarkable people working in the string music space. It keeps this industry feeling fresh and alive; hopeful, even.

In 2020, I formed Tamarack Arts, a nonprofit that ran classes, workshops, and retreats for adult learners all over the world. In the summer of 2024, for purely financial reasons, the org ran its final program, but I learned so much during the four years of operations! Much like my work for Strings, the people I got to interact with were tremendous, and whatever next step I take will be informed by the experiences I had with them.

Finally, a bit of a niche speciality: I love coaching actors whose parts require them to appear to play a stringed instrument. These coachings are very different from standard instrumental lessons, as the goal is to look proficient in a very short amount of time. By accepting the purely physical nature of the task (and with the help of a few closely-guarded tricks), I’ve been able to help numerous indie and high-profile actors play their parts convincingly. Lessons are available in-home and on set, with efficacy and discretion absolute priorities.