A autora traz um relato enternecedor de sua relação de amor conturbado com a tradição da música de concerto de alta performance convencional (espcialmente o capítulo sobre sua tiger mother). Nisso, em que pese seu desejo genuíno de experimentar e abrir os horizontes, mantém-se circunscrita por essa visada tradicional: daí, o tango é um improviso mágico, a improvisação musical tem uma abertura ao risco que se equilibra no resultado, é preciso acertar as notas e inteções dos compositores, o esforço leva à possibilidade de tentar entrar no mundo competitivo dos violinistas, mas só ele não basta. Não que não seja uma visão válida, mas torna parte do livro ingênua. Somado a isso, as relações com a física são muitas vezes tênues e não muito informativas. Com uma excessão: ao discutir aquelas passagens difíceis em que se erra recorrentemente, Hodges fala sobre como tocar a música pode ser integrar-se à ação de tocar, e como a passagem traz o ego ("eu sou aquela que erra"), o que efetivamente provoca um descompasso neuro-motor; de certa forma retira do tempo uno com a música, descordena uma coisa da outra. ( )

This is an autobiography written by a woman who was raised by her Korean mother after her Caucasian father left her and her siblings. She focused her life on becoming a violinist to the exclusion of most other activities. He suffered from stage fright and is a bit obsessive. She uses analogies in the book to principles in physics, which is a bit different. She eventually quit her life as a violinist. She describes playing the Chaconne as an ultimate accomplishment because of the difficulty of the piece. She also focuses her attention on the challenge of improvisation and her joy of playing in synchronization with pianist. Interesting but not quite sure to make of it. ( )

This book was such a joy to read. Part science, part deeply personal meditation about the nature of music and its meanings. It's a unique read for the way it combines both and in a way it's also what makes the book not quite as good as it could have been--if it had been all science, or all personal, then it would have been a truly great but utterly different kind of book. So: I loved it for its flaws. I loved it for its vulnerabilities. I'm looking forward to reading it again. ( )

I greatly enjoyed reading Uncommon Measure. It combines the themes of music, physics, and family life in a unique and compelling manner as the author contemplates her life and choices. I would highly recommended it, particularly for music aficionados. ( )

Natalie Hodges is a musician with the soul of a poet, and a writer with the heart of an artist. This book is an extraordinary translation of music, devotion, and sorrow into the written word, recounting her relinquishment of a performance career and her continued love of music. In these pages, if no longer on the stage, she is brilliantly sharing her art with us all. ( )