This week has once again been a terrible week for my inner musician.
On the plus side, I've at least been playing - unfortunately, I'm not playing the stuff I ought to be.
Monday and Tuesday, in addition to tomorrow and Friday will all be pit rehearsals for the local middle school's production of Sound of Music. The pit as a whole sounds great so far; I can't say much for the singers. They all sing so quietly - not a single exception - that I honestly don't have an idea as to what their singing voices sound like.
Makes me wonder what I sounded like at that age.
One of my oboe student's younger sister is in the cast as a child, and heard me playing at yesterday's rehearsal while the children were singing "Do, a Deer" and "So Long, Farewell". According to her, I'm "amazing" and I "make [my student] sound terrible." I only wish there was a way for me to describe the expression Jessie, my student, was wearing as she told me this during band class today. It was singularly hilarious, but I have no words for it. (She agreed that what her sister had said was true; my outer humble self stayed modest, while my inner egotist laughed maniacally.)
Going back to why this week will be known in my memory as "My Personal Hell Week", I have a recording session either this coming Saturday or Sunday to make a CD for various auditions for music camps for over the summer. This, ordinarily, would not pose a problem at all. It does, however, when I find myself without a single minute of downtime between 7 AM and midnight. Every day. Without fail. This entire week.
I only decided on the pieces I would be playing this past Sunday. I, for some absurd reason, decided I'd pick something I'm slightly rusty on; I figured, I assume, I'd be able to prepare it in time.
Boy, was I wrong.
I'll only leave it at the sole fact that I am dreading this recording session with a passion.
[By the way, the concert this past Monday went fabulously. I think the month between the final rehearsal and our concert actually benefited us: even the slackers in the back of the violin section paid attention to whatever the conductor was doing up there, and we stayed in time and just sounded, quite simply, better than we have at many a rehearsal. I went through a somewhat awkward and (I believe) unwarranted one-on-one session with the conductor, literally 45 minutes prior to when we would be onstage, going over the solos I have and various other nitpickings he decided I ought to know. I think I ended up doing everything well, though. As per usual, I feel as though I could have played louder; but, I'll see how I actually did once the recording comes.]
On the plus side, I've at least been playing - unfortunately, I'm not playing the stuff I ought to be.
Monday and Tuesday, in addition to tomorrow and Friday will all be pit rehearsals for the local middle school's production of Sound of Music. The pit as a whole sounds great so far; I can't say much for the singers. They all sing so quietly - not a single exception - that I honestly don't have an idea as to what their singing voices sound like.
Makes me wonder what I sounded like at that age.
One of my oboe student's younger sister is in the cast as a child, and heard me playing at yesterday's rehearsal while the children were singing "Do, a Deer" and "So Long, Farewell". According to her, I'm "amazing" and I "make [my student] sound terrible." I only wish there was a way for me to describe the expression Jessie, my student, was wearing as she told me this during band class today. It was singularly hilarious, but I have no words for it. (She agreed that what her sister had said was true; my outer humble self stayed modest, while my inner egotist laughed maniacally.)
Going back to why this week will be known in my memory as "My Personal Hell Week", I have a recording session either this coming Saturday or Sunday to make a CD for various auditions for music camps for over the summer. This, ordinarily, would not pose a problem at all. It does, however, when I find myself without a single minute of downtime between 7 AM and midnight. Every day. Without fail. This entire week.
I only decided on the pieces I would be playing this past Sunday. I, for some absurd reason, decided I'd pick something I'm slightly rusty on; I figured, I assume, I'd be able to prepare it in time.
Boy, was I wrong.
I'll only leave it at the sole fact that I am dreading this recording session with a passion.
[By the way, the concert this past Monday went fabulously. I think the month between the final rehearsal and our concert actually benefited us: even the slackers in the back of the violin section paid attention to whatever the conductor was doing up there, and we stayed in time and just sounded, quite simply, better than we have at many a rehearsal. I went through a somewhat awkward and (I believe) unwarranted one-on-one session with the conductor, literally 45 minutes prior to when we would be onstage, going over the solos I have and various other nitpickings he decided I ought to know. I think I ended up doing everything well, though. As per usual, I feel as though I could have played louder; but, I'll see how I actually did once the recording comes.]
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