When I say that I play the viola, people either say, “Oh, that’s cool, I love the violin,” or blankly stare at me as if I was speaking in a foreign language. For those of you who fall into either of these categories, this article is for you!

My relationship with the viola began in the summer before fifth grade. My mother signed me up to be in a summer string orchestra so that I could learn to play an instrument. On the first day of class, we had to decide which instrument we wanted to play. I had my heart set on playing the violin. It seemed like everyone played the violin, and in 2007, I was totally a trend-follower. I could picture myself on stage in 10 years as the solo violinist, glimmering in the spotlight. I was convinced I would be famous.

So on that warm summer day, I watched with rapture as the instructor modeled the different instruments for us. He started with the cello and played an upbeat and lighthearted melody. It was beautiful, to be sure, but I was of small stature, and I knew my arms wouldn’t be able to carry a large cello case for hours on end.

Next he demonstrated the stand-up bass, which played a beautiful, low, sonorous melody. But if I couldn’t carry a cello, there was no way I was going to be able to carry a stand-up bass (which is about double the size and weight of a cello!).

Then he picked up the violin. I was excited to hear what I was sure would be great. But for the violin, there was no beautiful melody, or stately motif. Instead, the instructor played a four octave scale, with the highest notes only audible to the neighborhood dogs. It started out moderately beautiful with deep low tones, but as the notes moved higher, the once beautiful sounds became extremely painful very quickly. Before he played the last note of the scale, I knew that I couldn’t bring myself to play the violin, and be at risk of making those ear-shattering sounds. No way!

The only instrument left for him to model was the viola. I had never even heard of this instrument and it looked like a violin. The instructor placed the instrument firmly on his shoulder, and I braced myself for weeping and gnashing of teeth. But instead, a beautiful melody floated from the instrument. It was dark and rich and profoundly gorgeous. And it was in this moment that I decided to play the viola.

So, you may be asking – whether the thought just dawned on you or you have been wondering for ages – what is the difference between a violin and a viola?

The violin and viola are very similar. They are both made of wood, have the same general structure and are played the same way. They share three main strings: A, D and G, but the violin has a higher E string, and the viola has a lower C string. Because of this, the viola has a lower tone and register and it is built slightly larger than the violin. Though they are both relatively similar, there are definitely both disadvantages and advantages to playing the viola.

The reason that you have never heard about the viola is because you can’t actually hear it. (Just kidding -- that was a viola joke.) You can hear the viola, but it is significantly softer in comparison to a violin and hardly ever gets the melody. The structure and size of the violin is perfectly measured to create a mathematically flawless resonance. The viola is lower in sound, so its proportions are not as mathematically flawless as the violin. Thus, it does not have as much resonance and cannot be heard as well. Also, the timbre, or tone color of the viola is much richer, deeper and softer than the violin. Because of this, the viola is often assigned the harmony instead of the melody.

Another slightly unfortunate (but cool) fact about viola players is that we read the alto clef. A clef designates the name and sound of the musical notes. Most instruments read the treble clef or the bass clef. Violas are (pretty much) the only ones in the entire musical universe that read alto clef. This makes it inconvenient to read music for other instruments, but it does give violas the chance to hone a rare skill.

Violas also have other special capabilities. Because we almost never get the melody, we have the unique opportunity to play rhythm, harmony and countermelody. In short, violists make the other instruments sound good. There are moments when the violas do get the melody, though it only happens once in a blue moon. When these moments occur, they are a privilege cherished by all viola players.

Though it has been tough and I have experienced my fair share of repetitive rhythms and boring two-note songs, I genuinely enjoy playing the viola. The intricate harmonies and rhythms that we get to play are often just as cool as the melody (if not more cool). I am so blessed to have such a unique part to play in my orchestra. Though I will never be the famous violinist playing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D Major, I can still say that I am glad that I play the viola.

(On a different note, I actually could have been a world-famous violinist. It turns out that the not-so-enjoyable scale that discouraged me from playing the violin was a ploy constructed by our director to try and get more people to play the viola, cello or bass. It worked.)