The cellos are an almost schizophrenic bunch. Since they have a comparable body of solo literature to the violin, they have a soloistic impulse almost from the get
go. There can often be the element of the mysogenistic cello
jock amongst the males, the inverse of which is almost unheard of in the females. On the other hand, they have a great
love for the symphonic repertoire and are often very much into the historically informed peformance practice movement. They always seem to make each other
birthday cakes, too. They have severe (and sometimes even legitimate) concerns about personal space for themselves and their instruments, which are often met with knowing looks and winks and smiles by the other string players, who wish that they could also just set their instruments on the floor rather than hold them up for several hours at a
time.