oboeinsight

Jason Heath has a link to a story by a music librarian. (Warning: language in the second link.)

I can most certainly relate!

I was a music librarian for San Jose Symphony (RIP). I even punished myself by taking the job for a second bout some hears after the first mistake gig. I do have stories. Many, many stories. And not just about conductors. BUT … just one story for today, and it is a conductor story:

We were doing a pops style concert, which usually means a LOT of music. We had already had our rehearsals and we were now at the venue (a shopping mall, believe it or not) for the performance. The (guest … so no guessing!) conductor asked me for the scores. I was rather shocked. “You have the scores,” I said. He flatly denied this. He was pretty darn angry. I was freaked—I usually order double scores, but for something like this? Not always. What to do, what to do?! Well … a bit of time later the conductor comes back to me and says that he just happens to have all the necessary scores in the trunk of his car.

What a miracle, eh?

He never appologized. And yet he didn’t ever demand “his” scores back. Go figure. Guess those amazing miracle scores must have been the ones I had “forgotten”.

Ya think?

I’m currently watching the PBS broadcast of The Nightingale (Le Rossignol). I played the orchestral work a few years back, but I’d never heard the actual opera. I’m all for videos of operas and other works, and I’m extremely glad I’m getting to hear the work.

BUT … music is sound. So when they decide to add sounds to the music, I find it tremendously annoying. Dishes falling over. Computer keyboard clicking. Other sounds. (We hear those sounds because of the animation in this movie … so they do have a point. But still ….)

Now I suppose you could say I’m listening to an opera and so stage sounds will be added and that’s just the way it is, but some of these sounds … well … they just didn’t work the same way for me (and I DO find those stage sounds distracting when I listen to a CD of an opera). Maybe I’m just overly sensitive to clicks and clacks?

Still, I’m happy to be able to hear the work (I had attempted to order a recording a while back and it never arrived and I was then informed that it wasn’t available any longer). And I really am enjoying the majority of it. I think I read a few blogger critiques and they were primarily negative. I do, for the most part, like it, and I’m recording it to DVD.

Oooh … my heart is going a little faster … must be nearing the big oboe solo. ;-)

Update
UGH. There is rhythmic clapping through the entire oboe solo. What a shame. It’s at a good and playable tempo though, so that’s nice. That was a fun (but scary) solo to play! Memories.

Man I love this music!
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This blog entry talks about Daniel Levitin and his book … the one I was reading , and plan on reading more of as soon as I can wrap my brain around anything—real life has interfered at the moment.

Reading the blog did make me want to get back to the book. I’m a bit embarrassed that I’m so slow a reader (although at the moment I think I have a legitimate excuse).

I wonder how differently a classicaly trained musician hears and reacts compared to someone with a different background. I wonder, too, if Dr. Levitin was assuming all of us look at the conductor all the time (!) because of one study he was doing. I actually can’t see the conductor clearly these days … read my glasses entry … so I wonder if I react differently now than I used to.

Actually I don’t wonder—I know! I don’t get nearly as stressed now that I miss out on the grimaces and hostile looks given out by some conductors. It’s a good thing.

In any case, I’m hoping to get back to reading, and back to “normal” … as normal as things will be when major changes in one’s life take place.

Oh … and from what I read, Dr. Levitin doesn’t care for accordian. Ah well. Maybe he hasn’t heard Quartetto Gelato?!
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Great gaping summer gap: A near-total lack of professionally performed classical music in St. Louis in July and August.

St. Louis isn’t the only city that lets all classical music die in the summer. I rarely work for a nearly 3 month period. It’s frustrating, but there you go. It reminds me of church, really; when summer starts Sunday classes are dropped. I guess God and Mozart both go on vacation in the summer, you know?

Frightening trend: “Virtual orchestras” that replace real musicians playing real instruments. It may be cheaper, but it’s not better.

THANK YOU, Sarah Bryan Miller, for including that in your classical music highlights 2006. It is greatly appreciated, and very true. But will audiences care? I wonder.

I’m really enjoying all the 2006 lists I’m finding out there. Maybe I should even post a list of them for readers. We’ll see.
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I have horrible vision. Really. Awful. Can’t-leave-the-bed-without-glasses vision. It’s not fun.

And of course I need reading lenses as well. So there you go.

Paul Viapiano blogs about his recent experience. I know the struggle of adjusting to progressive lenses but, unlike Paul, I’ve managed to deal with them. My first experience (too early in my life, if you ask me—I wasn’t even 40!) was frustrating, and it took me three months to adjust. Three darn months. But I’m stubborn. I dealt.

About two years ago now I moved to two pair of glasses; one pair is for everyday use and the other is for music. The second pair allows me to see the music incredibly clearly, and I can see the conductor enough to see the beat pattern but not enough to see a conductor’s glare. It works really well for me. And I do read ahead. I’m not sure if there’s a difference because they are primarily suited for close up reading—I do still have to “follow my nose” a bit— but I can see more than I had expected.

I still use no glasses at all when I’m doing extremly close up reed work.

It all seems to work fine now.

Earlier in my life I wore contact lenses, but my eyes seemed to rule those out after a number of years. I’m okay with that. Glasses hide those lovely dark bags under my eyes! I’m okay with that.

Anyways ANYWAY you very well might have to deal with the problems Paul had, so his blog is well worth reading.
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There’s a touching article about Lorraine Lieberson that’s well worth the read. (I might argue that she began her career even earlier, and was first known as a violist in San Jose, but oh well. I suspect it’s just because I want to lay some sort of claim on this incredible individual who carried with her the richest, warmest, loveliest voice I’ve ever heard.)

In addition, you’ll read Justin Davidson’s Top 10 (performances) for 2006. He doesn’t include the Lieberson concert, but maybe that’s due to the huge write up prior to his list …? Dunno.

I’m busily (well, sort of) looking at lots of 2006 Top 10 lists these days. So many movies, so much music, so many books … most of which I’ve not heard, seen or read.

Maybe I should have my Top 10 Reeds of 2006?

If I even had 10. Kind of doubtful.
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In other news, I’m now pursuing playing the oboe and harmonica (not at the same time, mind). I felt it was time to pick up something new. As soon as I have the finances, I’m going to look into picking up a bass.

When I read quotes like this I smile. It’s as if someone can decide to choose a few (rather unrelated) instruments and easily learn them. Or at least that’s the impression I get. I do hope this blogger gets a teacher for each instrument. (Well, maybe not the harmonica … does one need a teacher for that?)

I once heard from someone who wanted to teach herself English horn… because she had already taught herself French horn. Hmmm. They aren’t at all related, taking up a double reed is a rather big challenge, and it’s usually best to begin on oboe. I’ve not heard how it’s all going.

I did teach myself oboe for the first few months and I survived … but I do still fight the forked F with the E-flat key issue.

A private instructor is so necessary for a serious student. With oboe and English horn one isn’t dealing only with an instrument, but with reeds. And very fussy instruments as well. I can’t tell you how easy it is for these instruments to go out of adjustment! Turn a screw even 1/8 of a turn and you may have problems. I’ve studied my Sawicki book for a good long time and there are still things I can’t repair.

I recently heard a horror story: a student came home from a lesson and told her dad that the teacher had tightened one screw. (The teacher was only tightening one of the rod screws.) The dad, being such a helpful dad, tightened every screw on the oboe!

Ouch.

Just a few suggestions for now (I have more, but I’m feeling a bit lazy):

1) Don’t tighten screws on your oboe unless you know what you are doing!
2) If you drop your oboe (ahem … you know who you are!) assume it will need repair!
3) Have your oboe checked out once a year … and if you are using a school oboe please still do this. (I also believe you should pay for this … you are, after all, getting an oboe for free! Be responsible.)
4) Swab. (Please.)

As readers add other suggestions I’ll put them on this list (and give you credit! :-)
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Watching CSI (yeah, I know, I know, you’d think I’d watch only PBS) the CSI team is in the child prodigy’s room; she has a violin sitting upright, leaning against her chair. The bow is sitting on the chair.

Right.

That’s how a violinist would leave her instrument. Of course.

Sort of like the open house we went through once; the clarinet was on top of the desk, balanced upright (fortunately no earthquake that day). Uh-huh.

It’s always funny to see the way television, movie and magazine folks think of instruments and instrumentalists. I remember one magazine that pictured these lovely romantic pictures of a model with instruments out in fields and random places.

Just like real life.

Am I cynical? Only when appropriate.
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So … let’s see … I’m sure I’ve mentioned these before, but I’m sitting here pondering and I figured some might not have read these before:

There was the time one of the Russian dancers flipped his way right into the pit. No one was injured (unless they just didn’t tell us).

My English horn reed stuck to my lower lip so when I thought I was taking the reed out of my mouth the horn went down, the reed stuck, and then fell down my blouse. Much wriggling occurred to remove it.

I got my silk swab stuck in my oboe right before the Arabian oboe solo. During the dress rehearsal. I managedt to get it removed just in time to play.

The very next day I managed to get the swab stuck again. On the very next night. Opening night. This time I couldn’t remove it with my handy dandy swab removed (my hands were too shaky) so I played my colleague’s oboe (she was on English horn for that number) while the principal flutist managed to get the darn swab out.

Of course there have been “the tree won’t grow” moments too. But those … well … meh (to quote

December 28

28. December 2006 · Comments Off · Categories: Announcements, imported

1775 – João Domingos Bomtempo was born (d. 1842). Portuguese oboist

Because I know you wanted to know.
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Here’s a headline for you:

Musicians exceed expectations

Article here.
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