The fiddle is played on two hands, with a neat drum on one hand, and a precise loom on the other. One arm is more wrist & elbow intensive, while the other is more fingering snipping and dancing on the sharp wires.
The torso is at attention and twisted so that the chin and shoulder become a big toothless jaw, balancing the fiddle like a straw on a cockyman's lips.
There is much in the way of exercise to playing the instrument on target on all sides of the body in a position the fiddler grows into, like a vine branching tree.
But the body is dancing on all sorts of reducing levels of intricacy and detail and fine listening and deep concentration.
The fiddler is alive in a way no other is alive, but in the way a musician is alive. The penalty for hitting false notes is intense for a fidileoir.
Time smoothing out the instrument's shrewing rebuttals to false fingered words is awful and painful and the task is great that brings it to peace.
And once the air is sweetened, and the reel is undertaken and the violin must make dance happen, but within the standards of a gently pulled temper, then it goes mad until the jig is up and the dance done.
A fidileoir undertakes this energetic undertaking by stretching and letting the limbs and muscles extend into the bow and strings.
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