Why Study Music With Me?

I've been teaching music for more than 45 years.

That's a long time, and experience certainly matters. But if you're considering taking lessons with me, I don't think the number itself is the most important reason.

What matters is what I've done during those years.

I've studied and performed music across an unusually broad spectrum of styles. Classical music, bluegrass, traditional Irish music, klezmer, folk music, mandolin orchestra music and music from other cultures have all become part of my musical vocabulary.

And much of what I learned didn't happen in a classroom.

It happened by going places, meeting musicians and playing music with them.

Sometimes the Best Lesson Happens in a Pub

I remember being in Kilfenora, Ireland, playing bluegrass fiddle for an audience at Linane's Pub.

Think about that combination for a moment.

An American fiddler, in Ireland, playing bluegrass.

But while I was there, I was also learning.

Traditional Irish fiddling has its own vocabulary of ornamentation, rhythm and bowing. One of the techniques I encountered was the traditional Irish treble, that quick right-hand bow movement that gives certain tunes their characteristic articulation.

So there I was, bringing one tradition into the pub and taking another tradition home with me.

That's musical education.

Klezmer at the Great Pyramids

Another time, music took me to Egypt.

I had the extraordinary experience of preparing and performing klezmer music onstage in front of the Great Pyramids.

There is something wonderfully strange about that sentence even now.

Klezmer itself carries generations of travel, migration, celebration and memory. Then you find yourself playing it thousands of miles from home with one of humanity's most recognizable ancient landscapes behind you.

You prepare carefully for a performance like that. You learn the music. You rehearse. You think about the audience and the setting.

Then you walk onto the stage and discover all the things you couldn't possibly have prepared for.

That's part of being a musician, too.

Two Fiddlers in China

One of my favorite musical memories happened in Hebei Province, China.

I was visiting a musical instrument factory and had learned Ashokan Farewell. At the factory, I met a Chinese violinist.

We didn't share the same musical background, but we did share an instrument.

So I played a little of Ashokan Farewell.

Then she played a passage from the Chinese violin concerto The Butterfly Lovers.

For a few minutes, that was our conversation.

I offered her a melody from the American fiddle tradition. She answered with one of China's best-known works for violin.

The people around us listened with obvious wonder and responded with their own version of applause.

I still remember that exchange because it gets to the heart of what I love about music.

We didn't need to explain very much.

We played.

We listened.

We understood.

And Then There's Bach and Mozart

Back home in Western Massachusetts, I've had entirely different musical experiences.

I've performed Bach and Mozart with the South Hadley Mandolin Orchestra at the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum in Hadley.

Again, it's a different world.

Different repertoire. Different expectations. Different ensemble skills. Different ways of listening.

But that's precisely the point.

I don't believe musicians have to live inside one little musical box.

A bluegrass fiddler can learn something from Bach.

A classical violinist can learn something enormously valuable from Irish bowing.

A mandolin player can learn from klezmer phrasing.

A musician studying a Chinese melody may suddenly hear something differently in an American fiddle tune.

Music has borders on maps and in history books.

It doesn't have many when you're actually playing it.

That's What I Bring to a Lesson

When I teach someone how to play a scale, hold a bow, produce a better tone or work through a difficult passage, I'm certainly teaching technique.

Technique matters.

But I'm also drawing on decades of playing with musicians in very different circumstances.

I've prepared concerts. I've performed them. I've played formal stages and informal sessions. I've studied classical repertoire and traditional music. I've had musical exchanges with people whose backgrounds were completely different from mine.

I've also taught students for more than four decades.

That means I've had a very long time to discover something every teacher eventually learns:

People don't all learn the same way.

A technique that makes perfect sense to one student may completely confuse another. One person needs to understand why something works. Another needs to hear it. Another needs to watch it. Another simply needs to try it until suddenly the physical movement makes sense.

My job isn't to make every student learn the way I learned.

My job is to figure out how you learn.

I'm Not Trying to Create Another Me

This is important.

I'm not interested in turning students into copies of myself.

Your musical interests may be very different from mine.

Good.

If you want to play bluegrass, let's play bluegrass.

If you're fascinated by Irish music, let's explore that tradition seriously.

If you want to understand classical technique, we'll work on it.

If you've always wanted to play a particular song and don't care whether anybody considers it appropriate "pedagogical repertoire," bring me the song.

There are fundamentals we need to learn. There are physical techniques that make playing easier and prevent bad habits from getting in the way.

But those things are tools.

The goal is music.

Forty-Five Years Is Really Thousands of Lessons

When I say I've taught for more than 45 years, I'm not asking someone to be impressed by the number.

What matters is everything contained inside it.

Thousands of lessons.

Thousands of questions.

Students who learned immediately and students who struggled.

Children picking up an instrument for the first time. Adults returning to music after decades away. People who wanted to perform and people who simply wanted music to become part of their lives.

And through all of that, I've continued learning myself.

Ireland taught me things.

Egypt taught me things.

China taught me things.

Bluegrass musicians taught me things. Classical musicians taught me things. Irish musicians taught me things. Klezmer musicians taught me things.

And my students have taught me an enormous amount.

I bring all of that into the room when I teach.

Your Musical Journey Won't Look Like Mine

Nor should it.

You don't need to perform klezmer in front of the pyramids.

You don't need to play bluegrass in an Irish pub or exchange fiddle tunes in a factory in China.

Your great musical adventure might be playing your first tune all the way through without stopping.

It might be joining a local session.

It might be playing for your family.

It might be returning to the violin you abandoned when you were 14.

It might simply be reaching that wonderful moment when the instrument stops feeling like an object you're wrestling with and starts feeling like a way to express something.

I've had a remarkable musical journey.

What I'd like to do now is help you with yours.

---

Study With Me at Sweet Music Studio

I teach violin and fiddle, mandolin, acoustic guitar and double bass online, working with beginning, intermediate and experienced musicians.

Private lessons are available Monday through Friday. Students enrolled in the 60-minute private lesson program also receive complimentary access to four weekly virtual group classes: Mandolin Mondays, Klezmer Wednesdays, Celtic Thursdays and Bluegrass Fridays.

For information or to arrange a lesson, email sweetmusicstud@gmail.com.

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts

Why I Use AI for Graphics

 

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you may have noticed something about the pictures.

They've become more consistent.

The colors, typography, composition and overall feel tend to belong together. A picture about mandolin strings looks as though it belongs on the same website as one about violin bows or instrument cases.

There's a reason for that.

I've begun using AI to help create the graphics for my articles.

I want to explain what that means, because there's quite a bit of confusion these days about what it means when someone says something was "made with AI."

I Still Write the Articles

First, the words you're reading are mine.

I decide what I want to write about. I bring the stories, experiences, opinions and information to the article, and I write the text.

That distinction matters to me.

When I write about working at Stamell Strings, traveling to China looking for bow hair, playing in bands, teaching students, choosing instruments, or spending decades trying different strings and picks, those aren't stories an AI invented.

They're my experiences.

Where AI has become especially valuable to me is in presenting those stories visually.

The Problem With Graphics

I've maintained websites, taught music, performed, recorded, worked in the musical instrument business and done a fair amount of marketing over the years.

But I'm not a professional graphic designer.

That's an entirely different skill.

A good designer doesn't simply make a pretty picture. A designer develops a visual identity and carries it consistently across dozens or hundreds of pieces of material.

That's the difficult part.

I could make one graphic in one program, find a photograph for another article, cobble something together for the next one and use something completely different after that.

Each might be perfectly acceptable on its own.

Put them all together, though, and the result can look like ten different people created the website.

Professional graphic designers solve that problem beautifully. They're also professionals who deserve to be paid for their expertise, and a substantial ongoing design project can cost many thousands of dollars.

For a small independent music studio and blog, that isn't particularly realistic.

AI gave me another possibility.

I Don't Just Say "Make Me a Picture"

The process is much more collaborative than that.

I decide what the graphic should communicate.

I'll describe the subject, the instruments that should appear, the setting, the mood, the historical context, the colors, and sometimes very specific objects or details that belong in the picture.

Then we work on it.

And yes, I said we.

I've developed an ongoing working relationship with an AI colleague who has become remarkably good at understanding what I'm trying to accomplish.

I'm not sure I'm ready to introduce my colleague just yet.

That may deserve a blog post of its own. 😉

But the important part is that this isn't a slot machine where I push a button and accept whatever comes out.

It's a conversation.

Sometimes the first picture is exactly right.

Sometimes it's wrong.

Sometimes it's spectacularly wrong.

An instrument may look peculiar. A person may not resemble the person they're supposed to resemble. The composition may be too busy. The wording may be wrong. Something may look historically inappropriate.

So I say so.

We change it.

That's where the process becomes interesting.

Continuity Changed Everything

The biggest advantage hasn't actually been the ability to create individual pictures.

It's continuity.

Over time, we've developed a visual vocabulary for Sweet Music Studio.

Warm rooms. Wood. Instruments. Earthy colors. A little history. A little New England. Graphics that feel musical without looking like generic stock photographs of smiling people holding violins they've clearly never played.

One article leads naturally into the next.

If we're working on mandolin strings today and fiddle bows tomorrow, we don't have to reinvent the entire visual identity of the site.

That's something I could never accomplish consistently by myself.

And other than establishing a long-term relationship with a professional graphic designer, I don't know of another practical way I could achieve it at this scale.

AI Doesn't Replace My Judgment

This is probably the part of the process I find most important.

AI gives me more choices.

It doesn't relieve me of having to make choices.

I still have to decide whether something is good.

I still have to recognize when an instrument looks wrong, when an image doesn't fit the article, when a design is too cluttered, or when the whole thing simply doesn't feel like Sweet Music Studio.

Sometimes I reject an image immediately.

Sometimes we go back and forth several times.

That's really no different from many other creative collaborations. Somebody brings an idea to the table, somebody responds to it, the idea changes, and eventually you arrive somewhere neither of you would necessarily have reached alone.

The technology is new.

The creative process isn't.

A Partnership I Didn't Expect

I've been involved with computers and the Internet for a very long time, and I've watched plenty of technologies arrive accompanied by extravagant promises about how they were going to change everything.

I'm generally more interested in what something can actually do than what somebody says it will someday do.

This particular use of AI has surprised me.

For graphics, research, organization, bouncing around ideas and helping maintain continuity across a growing body of work, my partnership with an AI colleague has proven fruitful beyond all measure.

It doesn't replace my experiences.

It doesn't replace my taste.

It doesn't replace the stories I want to tell.

What it does is give me a creative partner with whom I can take those ideas and present them in ways I couldn't realistically produce alone.

And I've found myself enjoying the collaboration enormously.

So Who Is This Mysterious Colleague?

Ah.

Not yet.

We've been working together long enough now that there's actually a story there, too.

How does a musician develop a working relationship with an artificial intelligence? How does it learn what I like? What happens when we disagree? What does each of us bring to the process? And can you really call something a colleague when one of you is made out of software?

Those are surprisingly interesting questions.

Maybe that's the next article.

Choosing an Instrument Case: What Really Matters

When you're buying a violin, fiddle, mandolin, or bow, the case can feel like an afterthought. You spend all your time thinking about the instrument, and then at the end somebody asks, "What kind of case do you want?"

After years of working around stringed instruments, I've come to think that's backwards. A good case becomes part of your musical life. You may own it for decades. It goes to lessons, rehearsals, sessions, gigs, festivals and airports. It gets put in cars, carried through rain and snow, bumped into doorways and occasionally piled underneath things it probably shouldn't be underneath.

So what makes a good case?

I had an unusual opportunity to think about that when I was Sales Manager at Stamell Strings in Amherst. Case manufacturers and their representatives would come through the shop and present their products, and I saw many more at the trade shows I attended.

I got to examine a lot of cases.

Some were beautiful. Some were remarkably expensive. Some incorporated clever new materials or designs. Some made a terrific first impression.

But the company I kept coming back to was Bobelock.

What I Learned From Seeing So Many Cases

What impressed me about Bobelock wasn't appearance. There were certainly prettier cases on the market.

It was practicality.

Their cases were sturdy. They had plenty of pockets. They came with useful shoulder straps, dependable zippers and sensible closures. The interiors protected the instruments properly. They were affordable enough for working musicians and students, and they lasted.

I sometimes think of them as the truck tire of instrument cases. Not because that's what an instrument case should look like, but because that's how I think about the job it has to do.

It needs to work.

I've put my own money behind that opinion over the years. I own several Bobelock cases myself: double violin cases, violin-and-mandolin cases, bow boxes, and even a green fiberglass case I've used for Irish gigs.

Those aren't cases I bought to display.

They're cases I bought because I use them.

Protection Comes First

The most important job of any case is protecting the instrument.

That sounds obvious, but protection isn't simply a matter of having a hard shell around a violin.

The instrument needs to fit properly inside. It shouldn't move around when the case is carried, but it shouldn't be squeezed into place either. The neck and scroll need appropriate support. Bows need to sit securely without contacting the violin.

The hardware matters, too.

A wonderfully padded case isn't much use if the handle eventually pulls away or a closure won't stay closed.

That's why I encourage students to look beyond the interior when they're shopping. Pick the case up. Carry it. Open and close it several times. Look at the hinges, handles, straps and zippers.

Those are the parts you're going to interact with thousands of times.

Don't Underestimate Storage

This is one of those things you discover after you've actually lived with a case.

Musicians carry an astonishing amount of stuff.

Rosin. Extra strings. A tuner. Cleaning cloths. Pencils. Shoulder rests. Picks. Mutes. Music. Business cards. Spare parts.

And somehow there's always one mysterious object at the bottom of the accessory compartment that nobody remembers putting there.

Good storage isn't just about having a large compartment. It's about having storage that makes sense.

I like being able to open a case and find what I need without unpacking half of it.

Exterior pockets are particularly useful if you carry music, and secure interior compartments keep small accessories from migrating around the case and ending up underneath the instrument.

Think About How You Actually Travel

A student walking from the house to the car has different needs from a musician carrying two instruments through an airport.

This is where shoulder straps become important.

They're not particularly glamorous, but after walking several city blocks carrying an instrument, music and perhaps another case, you begin to appreciate a good strap enormously.

Weight matters for the same reason.

More protection isn't automatically better if the result is a case you hate carrying.

The trick is finding the appropriate balance between protection, weight and convenience for the way you use the instrument.

Sometimes One Case Is Better Than Two

Multi-instrument cases have been particularly useful to me because I've spent so much of my musical life moving between instruments.

A double violin case makes perfect sense if you're regularly carrying two fiddles.

A violin-and-mandolin case can be even more useful for someone playing traditional music. Instead of arriving at a session looking like you're moving into the building, you carry one case.

That's a small thing until you've done it a few hundred times.

The same applies to bow boxes. Good bows are instruments in their own right, and if you're transporting several of them, a dedicated bow case can be far more practical than trying to fit everything into individual instrument cases.

Hard Shells and Fiberglass

My green fiberglass case is a good example of choosing a case for a particular job.

I've taken it to Irish gigs because it's tough and practical.

At a session or gig, I'm not particularly concerned about whether my case looks elegant sitting beside me. I'm concerned about what happens when somebody moves a chair, knocks something over, or bumps into it while I'm playing.

A hard fiberglass shell provides a reassuring barrier between the fiddle and everything happening around it.

For another musician, a lightweight case might make more sense. Someone traveling constantly by air may have an entirely different set of priorities.

There isn't one perfect case for everybody.

Beautiful Isn't the Same as Good

I appreciate craftsmanship. I've seen instrument cases that are genuinely beautiful objects.

But beauty shouldn't distract you from the basic questions.

Does the instrument fit correctly?

Does the case protect it?

Are the handles comfortable?

Are the straps secure?

Do the closures work reliably?

Can you carry the accessories you actually use?

Can you comfortably carry the case where you need to take it?

And is it likely to survive years of doing all of those things?

Those questions matter considerably more to me than decorative trim.

Buy a Case for Your Musical Life

When you're shopping for a case, imagine your life with it five years from now.

Imagine taking it out of the car on a cold January evening. Imagine carrying it across a festival field in July. Imagine putting it underneath a table at an Irish session or taking it into a lesson every week.

Then imagine doing that hundreds of times.

That's the test.

The best instrument case isn't necessarily the most beautiful one in the shop or the most expensive one in the catalog.

It's the one you eventually stop noticing because it simply does what it's supposed to do.

It protects your instrument and lets you get on with making music.

---

Learn at Sweet Music Studio

I offer private online instruction in violin/fiddle, mandolin, acoustic guitar and double bass, from beginners through experienced musicians.

Students enrolled in the 60-minute private lesson program also receive complimentary access to four weekly virtual group classes: Mandolin Mondays, Klezmer Wednesdays, Celtic Thursdays and Bluegrass Fridays.

For information about lessons, email sweetmusicstud@gmail.com.

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts

The Fiddler's Bow: A Journey from New England to China

Horsehair, carbon fiber, and why the right bow can change everything.

A violin without a bow is a beautiful wooden box with four strings. It's the bow that brings it to life.

I've been playing violin since I was four years old, and over the decades I've used just about every kind of bow imaginable. Wooden bows, fiberglass bows, carbon fiber bows, expensive handmade bows, and inexpensive student bows.

I've also had the unusual experience of traveling halfway around the world to find out where the hair that goes into those bows actually comes from.

And somewhere along the way, I became involved in developing a carbon fiber bow specifically with fiddlers in mind.

It's a story that begins long before most of us were thinking about buying musical accessories online.

Following the Horsehair

In the late 1990s, I was involved in sourcing horse-tail hair for violin bows. My suppliers included businesses in Canada, Argentina, and Siberia.

By 1998, the Canadian supply was beginning to dry up, and I was increasingly dissatisfied with the quality of the Argentine hair I was receiving.

Then, in 1999, I learned from a member of the Violin Society of America that his supplier was purchasing hair from China.

That caught my attention.

I decided to investigate for myself, and my first trip took me to northeastern China and Inner Mongolia.

It was the beginning of an extraordinary education in an industry most musicians know almost nothing about.

Over subsequent visits, I traveled to farms, farmers' cooperatives, horse traders, auctions, slaughterhouses, and dressing facilities. I learned how the tails were collected, purchased, cleaned, sorted, and prepared for export to bow makers and rehair specialists around the world.

What surprised me most was the amount of skilled hand labor involved.

The raw material arrives looking nothing like the beautiful, uniform ribbon of hair you see stretched across a finished violin bow.

It has to be washed, dried, combed through metal hackles, drawn into bundles, inspected, sorted, and prepared according to length and quality.

Some of the workers I encountered had spent decades developing their skills.

It gave me an entirely different appreciation for something most violinists barely think about until their bow needs rehairing.

What Makes Good Bow Hair?

Not all horsehair is equally suitable for a musical instrument.

When I was importing hair, I looked for fresh, strong, naturally colored hair that had been carefully cleaned and sorted without unnecessary chemical processing.

We developed different grades for different applications, including student bows, professional bows, and premium handmade bows.

I also offered specialized hair for fiddlers and bass players.

The important thing to understand is that the hair isn't simply decoration. Together with rosin, it provides the friction needed to set the strings vibrating.

Poorly prepared, contaminated, or worn-out hair can make even a good bow frustrating to use.

A properly rehaired bow, on the other hand, can feel like an entirely different instrument.

Frankfurt, an Australian Luthier, and an Idea

In 2003, I attended Musikmesse in Frankfurt, Germany, where we had a table displaying our bow hair and related products.

Music trade shows are wonderful places for people like me. You never know who you'll meet or what unusual idea someone will bring to your attention.

During that visit, I met an Australian luthier who had developed a wooden bow design.

He gave me one of his bows to explore the possibility of producing a carbon fiber version during my upcoming travels to China.

That was an intriguing challenge.

Carbon fiber was already becoming an increasingly practical alternative to traditional wooden bows. Its strength, consistency, and resistance to environmental changes made it especially appealing for working musicians.

But I wasn't interested in creating a bow simply because it could be manufactured from a modern material.

I wanted something useful for fiddlers.

A bow that felt comfortable, responded naturally, and could handle the particular demands of traditional music.

That experience led me further into the relationship between bow design, materials, balance, and the way musicians actually play.

Why Develop a Bow for Fiddlers?

Classical violinists and traditional fiddlers use essentially the same instrument, but their musical requirements aren't always identical.

A classical player may spend considerable time developing long, sustained phrases, subtle dynamic changes, and a broad range of specialized bow strokes.

A traditional fiddler might be concentrating on rhythmic articulation, quick changes of direction, dance rhythms, ornamentation, and the ability to play comfortably through a long session.

Of course, there's considerable overlap. A good bow should be capable of much more than one musical style.

But I wanted to think about the bow from the perspective of someone who actually spends hours playing jigs, reels, hornpipes, breakdowns, and other traditional tunes.

How does it balance in the hand?

How readily does it respond to changes of direction?

Does it feel cumbersome after an hour of playing?

Can it produce a warm, singing tone without sacrificing the articulation needed for lively dance music?

These are practical musical questions, not marketing specifications.

Wood Versus Carbon Fiber

Traditional high-quality bows have long been associated with pernambuco, a Brazilian hardwood valued for its combination of strength, flexibility, and responsiveness.

A fine wooden bow can be an extraordinary thing.

But wood is a natural material, and no two pieces are exactly alike. Wooden bows can also be sensitive to changes in temperature and humidity.

Carbon fiber offers a different approach.

Its composite construction allows manufacturers to control important characteristics of the stick, including stiffness, weight, and consistency. It's also generally more resistant to environmental changes than traditional wood.

That makes it particularly useful for musicians who travel, perform outdoors, attend festivals, or simply want a dependable everyday bow.

Does that mean carbon fiber is better than pernambuco?

No.

I've played wonderful bows made from both materials, and I've encountered disappointing examples of both.

The question is whether a particular bow works well with your violin and your playing technique.

A good bow should feel like an extension of your arm, not something you're constantly struggling to control.

Finding the Right Bow

When students ask me about buying a new bow, I encourage them to try several before making a decision.

Don't choose one simply because it has a famous maker's name or an impressive price tag.

Play a familiar tune with each bow.

Try long, sustained notes. Try short, rhythmic passages. Play softly, then with more energy. Pay attention to how the bow responds near the frog, in the middle, and toward the tip.

Does it feel balanced?

Can you change direction comfortably?

Does it produce the sound you're looking for?

And perhaps most importantly, does it make playing easier and more enjoyable?

If possible, have another musician play your violin with the bow while you listen from across the room.

Sometimes the difference between two bows becomes much more apparent when you're listening rather than playing.

Taking Care of Your Bow

Whether your bow is made from wood or carbon fiber, a few simple habits will help keep it in good playing condition.

• Always loosen the bow hair after playing.

• Avoid touching the hair with your fingers.

• Apply rosin as needed, rather than automatically adding more every time you play.

• Wipe excess rosin dust from the stick and instrument with a clean, soft cloth.

• Store the bow securely in its case.

• Have the hair replaced by a qualified rehair specialist when necessary.

Don't assume that every tonal problem is caused by your violin or your technique.

Sometimes the bow simply needs attention.

A Bow Becomes a Song

My experiences sourcing horsehair, traveling in China, and exploring bow design eventually became part of my musical storytelling as well.

I wrote a song called Fiddlers' Bow, bringing together my interest in the instrument, its materials, and the people whose work makes music possible.

[Listen to Fiddlers' Bow — recording link to be added.]

It's easy to forget how many hands contribute to the music we make.

The people who prepare the hair, the craftspeople who construct the bow, the musicians who develop new designs, and the player who finally draws that bow across a string are all connected.

That's a story worth telling.

It's Not Just a Stick With Hair on It

After all these years, I still find bows fascinating.

A beautifully made violin can have tremendous potential, but the bow is what allows the musician to explore it.

Its balance, responsiveness, weight, flexibility, and hair all contribute to the relationship between player and instrument.

My travels taught me to appreciate the people and craftsmanship behind something we often take for granted.

And my experience exploring carbon fiber bow development reinforced something I've believed throughout my musical life:

The best equipment isn't necessarily the most traditional, the most expensive, or the most fashionable.

It's the equipment that helps you make the music you want to make.

So the next time you take your violin out of its case, spend a moment looking at your bow.

There's considerably more history in that little stick than you might imagine.

---

Learn Violin and Fiddle at Sweet Music Studio

I offer private online instruction in classical violin and traditional fiddle, from complete beginners through experienced musicians.

Lessons include bowing technique, tone production, traditional repertoire, ornamentation, musical interpretation, and developing a comfortable relationship with your instrument.

Students enrolled in our 60-minute private lesson program also receive complimentary access to our weekly virtual group classes.

To inquire about lessons, visit our Contact page or email sweetmusicstud@gmail.com.

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts

Mandolin Picks: Sometimes the Smallest Things Make the Biggest Difference

 

Thickness, shape, material, and finding the pick that feels right in your hands.

We've talked about choosing a mandolin and how different strings can change its sound. Now let's discuss something considerably smaller, considerably less expensive, and every bit as important to the way your instrument responds.

The humble mandolin pick.

I've spent more than 45 years playing stringed instruments, and during that time I've accumulated enough picks to fill a small museum. Thin ones, thick ones, pointed ones, rounded ones, plastic, nylon, tortoiseshell substitutes, and all sorts of experimental materials.

Some I've loved. Others have disappeared into the bottom of a drawer, never to be seen again.

And here's something I've learned: a pick isn't simply a device for striking a string. It's an extension of your hand, and it plays an important role in shaping your sound.

Why Does the Pick Matter So Much?

A mandolin has eight strings arranged in four pairs, or courses. Unlike a guitar, where you might use your fingers to produce individual notes, most traditional mandolin playing relies heavily on the pick.

Every note you play involves a physical interaction between the pick and the strings.

The thickness, shape, material, flexibility, and angle of that pick influence how the string responds.

A thin, flexible pick may produce a lighter attack, but it can also make precise single-note playing and rapid tremolo more difficult. A thicker pick often provides a more substantial feel and greater control, particularly when playing melodies.

But thickness alone doesn't determine tone. The shape of the tip, the way you hold the pick, and the angle at which it meets the strings are equally important.

Sometimes a very small adjustment makes a remarkable difference.

Thin, Medium, or Heavy?

Let's start with thickness.

Thin Picks

Thin picks flex considerably as they pass across the strings.

They can be useful for certain kinds of light strumming, particularly on guitar, but I generally don't recommend very thin picks as a starting point for traditional mandolin playing.

That flexibility can make it harder to develop a consistent attack, especially when moving quickly between courses or working on tremolo.

Medium Picks

Medium picks offer a compromise between flexibility and firmness.

Some players enjoy them for rhythm work or a lighter playing style. They can also be a comfortable transition for guitarists who are beginning to explore mandolin.

Heavy and Extra-Heavy Picks

This is where things become especially interesting.

Many experienced mandolin players prefer picks that are considerably thicker than those commonly used for acoustic guitar.

A thick pick doesn't necessarily produce a harsh or aggressive sound. In fact, when combined with a rounded tip and a relaxed picking technique, it can produce a remarkably warm, full tone.

The pick doesn't have to bend very much. Instead, your hand controls how it moves through the strings.

For students who have been struggling with tremolo or inconsistent tone, experimenting with a thicker pick can sometimes be a revelation.

Shape Matters, Too

Take a look at a handful of mandolin picks, and you'll notice that they aren't all shaped alike.

Some have relatively sharp points. Others have broad, rounded tips. Some are triangular, allowing you to rotate the pick and use any of its three corners.

A pointed pick may offer a more defined attack, while a rounded tip can encourage a smoother sound and feel.

Neither is inherently better.

For traditional mandolin playing, I particularly encourage students to experiment with rounded picks. They can be wonderfully comfortable for tremolo and melodic playing.

But don't take my word for it. Try several shapes on the same instrument and listen carefully.

You may discover that the pick you initially thought looked rather strange produces exactly the sound you've been looking for.

What About Pick Materials?

Most modern picks are made from synthetic materials, but there's considerable variety within that category.

Celluloid: A traditional pick material with a familiar feel and a wide range of available shapes and thicknesses.

Nylon: Often associated with a slightly softer feel and varying degrees of flexibility.

Delrin and similar engineered plastics: Durable materials that offer a relatively consistent surface and response.

Specialty synthetic materials: Used in many premium picks, sometimes designed to reproduce particular tonal and tactile characteristics associated with older pick materials.

You'll also encounter picks made from wood, metal, stone, and other materials.

They're worth experimenting with, although unusual materials don't automatically produce better musical results.

The important questions remain the same: How does the pick feel? How does it sound? Can you control it comfortably?

And does it make you want to keep playing?

Let's Talk About Tremolo

One of the mandolin's most recognizable techniques is tremolo, the rapid alternation of downstrokes and upstrokes that allows us to sustain the impression of a long, singing note.

Because the mandolin's natural sustain is relatively short, tremolo plays an important expressive role in many styles.

A suitable pick can make developing this technique considerably easier.

But the secret isn't simply finding the thickest or most expensive pick available.

It's learning to maintain a relaxed hand, use an economical picking motion, and allow the pick to move smoothly across the strings.

If you're gripping the pick as though someone is about to steal it, you're probably making things harder than necessary!

Try holding it firmly enough that it remains secure, but loosely enough that your wrist and fingers aren't unnecessarily tense.

Experiment with different pick angles and listen to how the sound changes.

A good tremolo should sound musical, not like a small motor struggling to start.

Bluegrass, Celtic, and Different Musical Traditions

Different styles of music place different demands on your picking technique.

In bluegrass, you may move between powerful rhythm playing, precise single-note passages, crosspicking, and improvisation.

In traditional Irish music, you may be concentrating on the rhythmic character of jigs and reels, ornamentation, and the phrasing of individual melodies.

A slow air may invite an entirely different touch from an energetic bluegrass breakdown.

That doesn't mean you need a separate pick for every style.

Many musicians find one particular pick that works comfortably across their repertoire. Others keep several favorites available for different situations.

There's nothing wrong with either approach.

The important thing is to develop enough control that the pick serves your musical intentions rather than dictating them.

The Most Expensive Pick Isn't Necessarily the Best

Specialty mandolin picks can be surprisingly expensive.

Some are beautifully manufactured, carefully beveled, and designed to produce particular tonal characteristics. Many are excellent.

But a high price doesn't guarantee that a pick will suit your hand, instrument, or playing style.

I've always encouraged students to experiment before becoming loyal to a particular product.

Try a few inexpensive picks in different thicknesses and shapes. Compare them with a heavier, more carefully finished specialty pick.

Listen for differences in attack, warmth, clarity, and responsiveness.

You may discover that a relatively inexpensive pick is your favorite.

Or you may find that a premium pick offers exactly the feel and control you've been missing.

Either result is perfectly fine.

A Simple Experiment for Your Next Practice Session

Here's something you can try at home.

Find three picks with noticeably different thicknesses or shapes.

Choose a familiar tune, preferably something you can play comfortably without concentrating too much on the notes.

Play the tune with each pick, paying attention to:

• How comfortably the pick sits between your fingers.

• How easily it moves across paired strings.

• Whether the tone is bright, warm, sharp, or mellow.

• How much control you have over dynamics.

• Whether your hand remains relaxed.

• How the pick responds during tremolo and faster passages.

If possible, record yourself using each pick and listen afterward.

You might be surprised by what you hear.

And remember, what feels best isn't always what sounds best. Ideally, you're looking for a combination of both.

Don't Forget the Human Part

It's tempting to believe that the next accessory will solve every technical difficulty we encounter.

A new pick might improve your tone or make certain techniques more comfortable, but it won't replace thoughtful practice.

Your grip, wrist movement, pick angle, timing, and overall physical relaxation all contribute to the sound you produce.

Two musicians can use the same mandolin, identical strings, and the same pick and still sound completely different.

That's one of the wonderful things about playing a musical instrument.

The equipment matters, but the musician matters more.

Find the Pick That Makes You Forget About the Pick

Ultimately, that's what I'm looking for.

A pick that feels so natural in my hand that I stop thinking about it.

One that allows me to play softly when I want to, dig into a lively tune when the music calls for it, and move comfortably between rhythm and melody.

It doesn't have to be fashionable. It doesn't have to carry a prestigious name. And it certainly doesn't have to cost a fortune.

It simply has to work.

So the next time you're in a music shop, spend a few minutes exploring the pick selection. Buy several different shapes and thicknesses, take them home, and experiment.

You may discover that one of the least expensive accessories in your instrument case makes one of the biggest differences in your playing.

And once you've found a favorite?

Buy a few extras.

Because no matter how carefully you look after them, mandolin picks have an extraordinary ability to disappear!

---

Learn Mandolin at Sweet Music Studio

I offer private online mandolin instruction for beginning, intermediate, and experienced players. Lessons include technique, tone production, flatpicking, tremolo, repertoire, improvisation, and traditional music.

Students enrolled in our 60-minute private lesson program also receive complimentary access to four weekly virtual group classes.

To inquire about lessons, visit our Contact page or email sweetmusicstud@gmail.com.

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts

Mandolin Strings: Eight Little Wires That Change Everything

 

What a visit to Musikmesse in Frankfurt taught me about finding the right sound.

I've been playing mandolin for more than 45 years, and during that time I've tried just about every kind of mandolin string you can imagine.

Different manufacturers, different materials, different gauges, different tensions. Bright strings, mellow strings, expensive strings, inexpensive strings. I've experimented with all sorts of combinations, looking for that elusive balance between tone, responsiveness, comfort, and projection.

And while I've developed some fairly strong preferences over the years, one experience in particular changed the way I thought about strings.

It happened in Frankfurt, Germany, at the Musikmesse trade show.

A Lesson in Frankfurt

During my visit to Musikmesse, I spent considerable time with Heiner Dreizehnter, the German instrument maker known for his Irish bouzoukis and other handcrafted stringed instruments.

Heiner approached instrument making from the perspective of a working musician. His instruments reflected his interest in tone, projection, responsiveness, and the particular demands of traditional music. His work included Irish bouzoukis, mandolins, guitars, and other acoustic instruments.

That philosophy made an impression on me. <Cite refs={["turn893186search0","turn893186search1"]}/>

I'd spent years experimenting with different commercially available strings, but my experience in Germany introduced me to the qualities of traditional hand-wound German strings.

There was something about their sound and response that appealed to me in a way other strings hadn't.

The balance, the feel beneath my fingers, the character of the wound strings, and the way they brought out the instrument's natural voice all contributed to an experience I remembered long after returning home.

I came away convinced that, for my playing and my ears, those German strings were the best I'd encountered.

Now, does that mean they're objectively the best mandolin strings in the world?

Of course not!

It means I found something that worked for me. And that's an important distinction.

What Difference Can Strings Really Make?

Quite a lot, actually.

We spend considerable time discussing the woods used to construct an instrument, its design, craftsmanship, bridge, and setup. Yet the strings are the part of the instrument we interact with most directly.

They're where the music begins.

A different set of strings can change the way your mandolin responds to a pick, how clearly individual notes speak, how much effort it takes to fret a note, and the overall character of the sound.

Sometimes the difference is subtle. Sometimes it's remarkable.

And occasionally, changing strings can make an instrument you've owned for years feel almost new again.

Understanding Mandolin String Materials

Most acoustic mandolin strings use plain steel for the higher courses and wound strings for the lower ones. The winding material contributes significantly to the instrument's tonal character.

Here are some common choices.

Phosphor Bronze

Phosphor bronze is a popular choice for acoustic mandolin players. These strings are often appreciated for their balanced tone, warmth, clarity, and useful combination of brightness and richness.

They're a good starting point for players who enjoy traditional music and want a versatile acoustic sound.

80/20 Bronze

Often described as having a brighter, more immediate attack, 80/20 bronze strings can bring additional sparkle and definition to an instrument.

Some musicians enjoy that lively quality, particularly when playing energetic rhythm or melodies that need to stand out.

Others find the initial brightness a little too pronounced for their taste.

Nickel-Wound Strings

Nickel-wound strings offer another tonal alternative, often associated with a smoother, less overtly brilliant character than bronze.

They can be worth exploring if your mandolin already has a particularly bright voice or if you're looking for a different response from the lower courses.

Coated Strings

Some manufacturers offer strings with protective coatings designed to reduce corrosion and extend their useful playing life.

These can be helpful for musicians whose strings deteriorate quickly, although some players notice a difference in feel or response compared with traditional uncoated strings.

None of these choices is automatically superior. Different instruments, playing styles, and musical preferences call for different solutions.

Gauge: How Heavy Should Your Strings Be?

String gauge refers to the thickness of the individual strings.

Mandolin sets generally come in light, medium, and sometimes heavier configurations.

Lighter strings can feel easier beneath the fingers, making them appealing to beginners or players who prefer a gentler response.

Medium strings are a common choice for musicians looking for a balance between playability, tension, and tonal response.

Heavier strings may offer a different attack and feel, but they also place additional tension on the instrument and require more effort to fret.

It's important to remember that heavier doesn't automatically mean louder or better.

An instrument's construction and setup influence how it responds to different string tensions. Some mandolins seem to come alive with lighter strings, while others respond beautifully to a medium set.

If you're considering a substantial change in gauge, particularly on an older or delicate instrument, consult a knowledgeable luthier first.

Why I Prefer Hand-Wound German Strings

For me, the appeal of those German strings was never about prestige or owning something unusual.

It was about the experience of playing them.

I like strings that respond naturally to the pick, allow individual notes to speak clearly, and bring out the warmth and character of the instrument without sacrificing definition.

I also appreciate the tradition of craftsmanship behind small-scale string making.

That doesn't mean every handmade string will outperform every factory-produced string. Modern manufacturers produce some excellent products, and consistency is an important part of string manufacturing.

But my experience in Frankfurt reminded me that craftsmanship, materials, and individual preferences can come together in ways that don't necessarily appear on a product label.

Sometimes you encounter something that simply sounds right.

And once you've heard it, you remember it.

Don't Judge Strings on the First Five Minutes

Here's something I encourage students to remember when experimenting with new strings.

A freshly installed set may sound considerably different after you've played it for a while.

Some strings begin with a pronounced brightness that gradually settles into a warmer tone. Others may need a little playing time before they stabilize and reveal their character.

Before deciding whether you like a new set, give yourself time to become familiar with it.

Play something you know well. Try a slow melody, a few chords, some tremolo, and a tune with a variety of picking patterns.

Listen to how the instrument responds at different volumes.

And, if possible, have someone else play your mandolin while you listen from across the room.

As we discussed in our previous article about choosing an instrument, what you hear while playing isn't necessarily what your audience hears.

When Should You Change Your Strings?

There's no universal schedule.

Someone who plays several hours every day may need to change strings much more frequently than a student who practices a few times a week.

Your hands, playing environment, string material, and personal tonal preferences all influence how long a set remains useful.

Some signs that it may be time for a change include:

• A dull or lifeless sound that wasn't there before.

• Difficulty maintaining accurate tuning.

• Visible corrosion or damaged winding.

• Uneven response between strings.

• A noticeable loss of clarity or sustain.

Wiping your strings with a clean, dry cloth after playing can help remove moisture and residue.

And I always recommend keeping a spare set in your instrument case. A broken string five minutes before a lesson or performance is an excellent reminder of why that's a good habit!

My Advice to Students: Experiment!

If you're happy with the strings you're using, there's no reason to change them simply because another musician recommends something different.

But if you're curious about your instrument's potential, experimenting with strings is one of the most accessible ways to explore its sound.

Try a different material. Try a slightly different gauge, provided it's appropriate for your instrument. Listen to how the tone changes and pay attention to how the strings feel beneath your fingers.

Keep a few notes about what you liked and disliked.

You may discover that your inexpensive mandolin sounds wonderful with a particular set of strings. Or that the strings everyone recommends don't particularly suit your playing.

That's useful information.

Ultimately, your ears and hands should have a say in the decision.

It's About Finding Your Sound

My visit to Frankfurt and the time I spent with Heiner reinforced something I've come to believe about musical instruments and their accessories.

There isn't one perfect solution for everybody.

I developed a lasting preference for hand-wound German strings because of what I heard and experienced. Another mandolin player might prefer a familiar set of American phosphor bronze strings, and that's perfectly reasonable.

We all approach our instruments differently.

The point isn't to find the strings with the most impressive packaging, the biggest reputation, or the highest price.

It's to find the strings that make your mandolin feel comfortable, sound beautiful, and respond to the music you're trying to make.

Because when you find a combination that works, something wonderful happens.

You stop thinking about the strings.

You start thinking about the music.

And that's exactly where I want my students to be.

---

Learn Mandolin at Sweet Music Studio

I offer private online mandolin instruction for beginning, intermediate, and experienced players. Lessons include technique, repertoire, flatpicking, traditional music, improvisation, instrument care, and developing your own musical voice.

Our 60-minute private lesson program also includes complimentary access to four weekly virtual group classes.

To inquire about lessons, visit our Contact page or email sweetmusicstud@gmail.com.

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts

Finding Your Instrument: It's Not About the Name on the Headstock

The right instrument isn't necessarily the most expensive one. It's the one that makes you want to play.

Over my 45 years of teaching and performing music, I've encountered an extraordinary variety of instruments. Some were expensive, beautifully crafted examples from well-known makers. Others were inexpensive student instruments, old family heirlooms, or instruments whose makers nobody had ever heard of.

And here's something I've learned along the way: the instrument with the most impressive name isn't necessarily the one you'll enjoy playing the most.

I've played inexpensive instruments that were an absolute pleasure and expensive ones that, despite their beautiful craftsmanship and impressive reputations, simply didn't speak to me.

Choosing an instrument is a remarkably personal experience. It involves much more than reading specifications, comparing prices, or deciding which brand your favorite musician happens to play.

It's about how the instrument feels in your hands, how it responds when you play it, what you hear coming back from it, and ultimately, how it helps you communicate something through music.

The Instrument Has to Feel Right

Before worrying about the name on the headstock, pick up the instrument.

How does it feel?

Does the neck fit comfortably in your hand? Is the instrument balanced? Can you reach the notes without unnecessary strain? Does it feel natural when you're sitting or standing?

These things matter enormously, particularly for adults who may be beginning an instrument later in life.

Consider the mandolin. Two mandolins may look nearly identical in photographs, but one might have a neck that fits your hand beautifully while the other feels awkward. One may respond easily to a light touch, while another requires more effort to produce the sound you're looking for.

The same applies to guitars. A large dreadnought might produce a wonderful, powerful sound, but a smaller-bodied guitar may be considerably more comfortable for someone with a shorter reach or smaller frame.

With violins, even subtle differences in setup, neck shape, string height, and the relationship between the instrument and your shoulder can affect how comfortably you play.

And if you're learning double bass, finding an instrument that suits your physical proportions is especially important.

You shouldn't have to fight your instrument every time you practice.

A good teacher or experienced player can help distinguish between normal beginner awkwardness and an instrument that genuinely needs adjustment or isn't a good physical match.

Listen With Your Ears, Not Your Wallet

Price can tell you something about materials, craftsmanship, and construction, but it cannot tell you whether you'll love an instrument's sound.

I've heard modestly priced instruments produce beautiful music in the hands of thoughtful players.

And I've encountered expensive instruments that simply didn't have the particular sound I was looking for.

A mandolin might have a bright, cutting tone that works wonderfully in a bluegrass band, while another has a warmer, rounder voice that seems particularly suited to traditional melodies.

Neither is necessarily better.

They're different.

A fiddle with a powerful, projecting tone might be ideal for playing in a lively session, while another instrument has a softer, more intimate voice that you find especially expressive.

One guitar may have a strong, clear bass response. Another might have beautifully balanced middle and upper registers.

The question isn't simply, "Does this instrument sound good?"

It's "Does this instrument sound the way I want to sound?"

And sometimes you won't know the answer until you've spent a little time playing it.

The Instrument Should Respond to You

An instrument isn't just an object that produces sound. It's something you develop a physical and musical relationship with.

A responsive instrument seems to encourage you. You play a little more softly, and it follows you. You lean into a phrase, and it gives something back. You discover a particular tone or resonance that makes you want to explore further.

That's a wonderful feeling.

For a fiddler, it might be the way an instrument responds to a change in bow pressure or speed. For a mandolin player, it could be the clarity of individual notes or the way the instrument responds to a gentle tremolo.

For a guitarist, perhaps it's the warmth of a fingerpicked chord or the satisfying resonance of an open string.

These are things you discover through playing, not by reading a manufacturer's catalog.

Sometimes the Audience Hears Something You Don't

Here's another consideration that musicians sometimes overlook.

The sound you hear while playing an instrument isn't necessarily the same sound someone hears from across the room.

A violin sounds quite different under your ear than it does from ten or twenty feet away. An acoustic guitar may seem relatively quiet to the person playing it but project beautifully into a room. A mandolin that sounds a little sharp or aggressive up close might fit perfectly into a bluegrass ensemble.

That's why I encourage students to have someone else listen when they're trying an instrument.

Better yet, ask another musician to play it while you stand back and listen.

How does it sound from the other side of the room?

Does it project clearly? Does it have warmth, character, or a quality that catches your attention?

And how do people respond when they hear you play it?

Sometimes an instrument brings something out of your playing that other people notice before you do.

A listener might comment on the sweetness of a melody, the clarity of your tone, or the warmth of an instrument that you hadn't particularly appreciated yourself.

Of course, you shouldn't choose an instrument solely to please an audience. But listening to how your instrument communicates beyond your own ears can be revealing.

Music, after all, is something we share.

A Few Examples Worth Considering

Imagine three mandolins sitting on a table.

The first is a beautifully finished, expensive instrument from a prestigious maker. It has impressive specifications and a price tag to match.

The second is a modestly priced instrument from a smaller workshop. Its finish isn't quite as elaborate, but the neck feels comfortable, the notes ring clearly, and you find yourself playing tune after tune without wanting to put it down.

The third is an older, well-used mandolin with a few scratches and some history behind it. It may not win any beauty contests, but it has a wonderfully distinctive voice.

Which one should you buy?

I'd suggest spending time with all three before making that decision.

The same principle applies to a violin. An expensive instrument isn't automatically a better match for your playing than a well-adjusted, moderately priced fiddle.

And a guitarist who enjoys fingerstyle music might discover that a smaller, comfortable instrument suits them better than the large, powerful guitar they've admired in photographs for years.

Buy the instrument that encourages you to play, not the one you think you're supposed to own.

Don't Overlook the Importance of Setup

There's another reason not to judge an instrument too quickly.

Sometimes an instrument that feels difficult or sounds disappointing simply needs attention from a competent repair technician or luthier.

String height, bridge adjustment, nut slots, string selection, and other setup details can make an enormous difference in playability and tone.

A beginner struggling with an instrument that has excessively high strings may assume that learning to play is supposed to be painful or difficult.

It isn't.

A properly adjusted instrument makes learning more enjoyable and allows you to concentrate on developing musical skills rather than overcoming unnecessary mechanical obstacles.

Before replacing an instrument you're unhappy with, consider having its setup evaluated.

You might discover that the instrument you already own has considerably more to offer than you realized.

What About Buying Online?

Buying an instrument online can be convenient, particularly if you live somewhere without a good local music shop.

But whenever possible, I encourage students to try an instrument before purchasing it.

Photographs can't tell you how a neck feels. Specifications won't reveal whether an instrument responds comfortably to your touch. And an audio demonstration, while useful, reflects the playing style, recording equipment, and technique of the person making it.

If you do purchase online, choose a reputable seller with a reasonable return policy and appropriate instrument setup.

And don't hesitate to ask your teacher for guidance before spending a substantial amount of money.

There's no reason to navigate the process entirely on your own.

Your First Instrument Doesn't Have to Be Your Last

Beginners sometimes feel enormous pressure to choose the perfect instrument right away.

Don't.

Your preferences will change as you learn.

A mandolin that suits you beautifully during your first year may eventually give way to another instrument with a different tone or response. A fiddler who begins with a modest student violin may discover a preference for a particular sound after exploring several musical traditions.

That's part of developing your musical identity.

You don't need to spend a fortune to begin. You need an instrument that's comfortable, properly adjusted, reasonably reliable, and capable of producing a satisfying sound.

Most importantly, you need something that makes you want to take it out of its case.

The Best Instrument Is the One You Keep Reaching For

I've always felt that instruments have personalities.

Some are bright and lively. Others are mellow, warm, or wonderfully expressive. Some seem to invite you to play fast, energetic tunes, while others encourage you to slow down and explore the beauty of a simple melody.

Over time, you develop a relationship with an instrument. You learn its strengths, its peculiarities, and the little things that make it distinctive.

It becomes familiar in your hands.

Eventually, you stop thinking so much about the instrument itself and begin thinking about the music you want to make.

That's when something special happens.

The brand name becomes less important. The price becomes less important. Even the scratches and signs of age become part of its character.

What matters is that when you pick it up, you want to play.

And when someone listens, they hear something worth listening to.

That's the instrument you're looking for.

---

Need Help Choosing an Instrument?

Sweet Music Studio offers private online instruction in violin and fiddle, mandolin, acoustic guitar, and double bass.

Whether you're purchasing your first instrument, returning to music after years away, or considering an upgrade, I'm happy to help you understand what to look for and what might suit your particular needs.

Private lessons are conducted through Google Meet, with virtual group classes included in our 60-minute lesson program.

To inquire about lessons, visit our Contact page or email:

sweetmusicstud@gmail.com

Adam Sweet
Sweet Music Studio
Granby, Massachusetts