second fiddle

Melody goes on top; accompaniment goes below. That's just the rule. (Except in barbershop, where the top guy does falsetto harmony.) It's a matter of consternation, frustration, jokes, pity, tears, and ridicule among musicians: altos famously get very boring parts while the soprano soars in song. (My niece Hannah sings a hilarious song about this. Check it out, not only for the clever song but also for her superb delivery.)

Players of viola, the violin's larger and deeper sibling, share this frustration. More jokes are from the lead players' point of view (How do you keep your violin from getting stolen? Put it in a viola case. What's the difference between a viola and a coffin? The coffin has the dead person on the inside. Why do violists leave their instrument cases on the dashboards of their cars? So they can park in handicapped parking places; and if someone mistakes them for mafia, they might get some respect. Was sind die drei Lagen auf der Bratsche? Erste Lage, Notlage, und Niederlage. Höhöhö!!) than from the violists' (Which is smaller, a violin or a viola? They are actually the same size, but a violinist's head is so much bigger.).

As a composer and arranger, I always like to give every player something satisfying: give the basses a few interesting licks, give the poor harpist something more than glissandos. For a recent commercial, I borrowed some string players from the symphony. Since it wasn't a jingle but rather a positive-vibe background for voiceover, most of it was whole notes. But I wrote a nice lilting melody for solo viola. I figured that the rich sound of a well-miked viola was just the thing for this particular spot: warm and inviting.

During the session, the violist (the superb Marisa Bushman) asked, "Are you a violist or something?" Because who else, right? Nope; just a composer who wanted to [a] give an underutilized instrument a chance to sing a bit, and [b] give the world a heartwarming melody.