oboeinsight

I spent the entire day at UCSC. It was one long day, but an enjoyable one as well. For some reason I saw only one oboist … where are you others?! (But Becky, you sounded wonderful and your orchestra audition was quite good!)

The campus was lovely, as always, and I saw more deer today than I’ve seen before. Beautiful creatures!

It was nice to hear that the music department website is to be updated. I was wondering when (if) that would happen. It’s time. It’s past time, really. The events calendar is a problem, too, and we were told that would also be fixed. Whew. ‘Bout time.

As of this week the “year” will have fully begun. OSJ. SSV. SCU. UCSC. All letters up and running, if you know what I mean. :-)

So Pittsburgh artists, including musicians, can get blessed tomorrow. What with the internet and all can’t they do some sort of live webcast and bless the rest of us as well? Does it work that way? I know next to nothing about the Anglican church and the blessing of various things. (I think I’d like my reeds blessed too, though. Would he? Could he? Should he?)

Later on they can study things like … you … you know … humility. Oh, and of course ego.

How ’bout that?

No, I’m not mocking them here. Really and truly. And I think the study sounds wonderful. If I lived closer I’d be there … anyone want to fly me to the moon Pennsylvania? C’mon. You know you do!

We finished up the run of Lucia di Lammermoor this afternoon. I really do think this was one of our best runs. Maybe I’m wrong (Who? Me?), but it just felt right, the singers were strong, and, well, I had fun! (It is about the oboe, right?) Our audiences were all enthusiastic … more than I’ve ever seen, actually.

So with opera over, I can focus entirely on the symphony set. I have a recital coming up as well, where I’ll be playing English horn on Copland’s Quiet City. That is just going to have to wait until I’m done with principal oboing this week. (Yes, “oboing” is a word. My invention. Nice, eh?)

Before the start of symphony I begin at UCSC. I’m actually looking forward to the week. Beginnings are nice!

Clapping: The protocol is that you do not clap during a full performance of a multi-movement piece, such as a symphony or concerto, until the work is completely finished. The logic is that applause breaks the audience and musicians’ concentration.

This is the classical concert convention I would most like to see drop-kicked out of the concert hall.

RTWT

So how about readers here? What would you change? What would you keep?

Me? Well, I have a few things I guess …

Clothing: I’d go for all black, no tails or tuxes for men on stage. I mean all black; no white shirts. I just like the look better. For the less formal concerts I’d say solid color shirts/blouses would be cool too. But no white. (Heck, I can’t keep white clean!)

Clapping: Meh. Clap if it seems appropriate, but a little knowledge is helpful; if the work is attacca clapping can kind of ruin things, you know? Maybe someone needs to clue an audience in on this sort of thing beforehand, rather than correcting them during a performance. It would be easy for a conductor to turn around prior to the start of a work and say, “For this work we’d really love silence until the very end” … and she or he could even explain why.

The WALL: Not all orchestras observe this, but I remember when San Jose Symphony players were told we couldn’t go up to the apron and talk to audience members before the performance or during intermission. It was something about “not being professional”. Well, I say take the wall down in any way possible. Heck, why can’t we talk to audience members? It doesn’t ruin anything … does it?

I’m sure I’ll think of more. Right now my brain is on idle and my headache is on a sort of 10 mph sort of thing. What with opera this afternoon it’s time to take it easy.

Yes, the note came out in the little mini-solo moment. I didn’t leave my bassoon playing pal alone this time. I still haven’t a clue what happened the other night when the C# just wasn’t there. It’s a puzzlement. But whatever.

So one performance of Lucia to go, and then I move on to Symphony Silicon Valley. I have been working on the pieces as well as reeds. I tried some of the reeds in the pit tonight, but I wasn’t about to use them there; I just don’t trust them yet. I also know that the reeds I use in the pit are rarely good for the stage. So I’ll just have to wait and see what happens on Wednesday.

Between tomorrow and the first symphony rehearsal I teach at home, practice as much as I’m able, begin the UCSC quarter, rehearse a bit for the recital at UCSC (on October 28), and teach at SCU. It’s a very busy week. And I’m just exhausted. I had planned on church tomorrow, but it may not happen. I don’t want to fall asleep in the pit tomorrow afternoon. That would be a bad idea! ;-)

I love the music life, but it does take a lot of energy and a lot of time, between teaching, practicing, rehearsals and performances. Oh yeah, and reeds. Contrary to popular belief, playing takes work! ;-)

Thinking you might have made an error choosing a more prominent position for a concert or fearing you wimped out taking the less prominent one? I wonder.

Today, after I teach, will be spent on a lot of notes. I’m not sure if all those notes are heard, but I have to assume that they are. And even if they aren’t heard by the audience, they are heard by the conductor, my colleagues and, should I choose to listen to myself, me. So I have to get them. No matter what.

A few weeks back Krup & Kuyp (if you don’t know ‘em, no matter) were talking about how a batter that struck out the first time gets up the second time around and pretty much has in his head how he struck out. It’s haunting. It can cause you to blunder even when that’s not the norm. I can relate.

Guess what is haunting me right now?

I had opera last night. Nothing to worry about, really, except that I was extremely tired. I’m not even sure why; it might just be the next symphony set lurking, and all the work I’m doing on that.

But in any case, I was very tired. So tired that at one point I thought, “Is that a dog barking?” Now of course it wasn’t, but that’s what my exhausted ears heard! Bizarre. I even found, at one point, that I could have easily started dozing off. And coffee isn’t an option, since that would keep me up all night.

Then, in the second scene of the third act, the bassoon and I have a mini-solo. We play, beginning on the second beat of a 4/4 bar, a whole note C#, followed by eighth notes D – E – F (into the downbeat of the next bar), all done with an angst-ridden crescendo. (After all, Edgardo is very upset at the moment.) It’s not something I ever worry about. At all. So what happens? NO C#. None. Nada. Zilch.

Well, well, well … what was that about? Was I so tired I just forgot to blow? Was I so tired I forgot my embouchure? Hardly likely; even when I’m on autopilot those things happen. So it’s either reed, instrument or just something weird yours truly did and doesn’t even remember.

But when one is hearing a barking dog in a performance I suppose anything can happen.

OR … there’s always this … I could suggest I just wanted to give the bassoonist a half note solo. (I did come in after that.) I’m known to be nice that way. Maybe.

In our ongoing efforts to make our audiences younger, we’ve been looking for ways to involve more folks,” says Tim Jackson, general manager of the event. (Found here*)

Ooh ooh ooh … I want to be made younger. I’m definitely going to this event.

(That IS what he meant … right? ;-)

*article no longer available