oboeinsight

happy new year, I guess.

i’ve never understood what the big deal was, to be honest. I just have to remember a new number when I write checks. And I write checks infrequently these days. My real year begins when the new opera and symphony seasons begin and the schools start up, to be honest. So there you go.

I don’t do resolutions. I don’t stay up until midnight. (Not deliberately anyway.) I don’t have a party.

I think I sound very, very boring.

But we had a nice evening with family, had some good food, and we watched The Court Jester.

I’m fine with that.

But … okay … I wish all of you a wonderful year full of laughter and cheer. And maybe good reeds too.

So I’m going to be reorganizing my blog links. It’s time. Some folks haven’t been writing for months. If that’s you, and you still wish to be included, please let me know. Otherwise, it’s curtains for you. So take a bow if you’d like.

If you are a blogger as well as a reader of this site, and your are weeping buckets because you are missing from the blogroll, please let me know. I might be adding a blog or two. (I have so many already and I do wonder how many readers bother to look through the long list, though. Do you blogfolk check to see if you are getting visitors from over here? Of course I don’t get many hits from other blogs—some days I get none at all—so I’m not sure if these links do anyone any good at all!) Oh … and if I’ve put you in the wrong category, please let me know! I can easily move things around.

I went to see Sweeney Todd today. I’m not going to put up a huge review. It’s not my style. But I’ll write a wee bit here.

I wasn’t blown away. I guess I was expecting—or hoping—to be. It was fine. It was disturbing, as it should be. But there were just a few things that bothered me. I think someone could have benefitted from a singing lesson or two. All the singers but the boy who played Toby seemed somewhat underpowered … in some ways it felt like “vacant singing” to me, if that makes any sense. I wasn’t drawn in as I thought I would have been.

The blood? Well, there was a lot of red. Very bright red. It seemed somewhat unreal, though. I still wanted to look away (and did) at times.

And I missed the chorus greatly.

But I’m sounding mighty negative. I’m not saying I hated it. I love the music, and it was wonderful to hear the full orchestra in a movie theatre! The scene for By The Sea was super! And Johnny Depp was a good Sweeney. (But no more of that slipping up to the note for me, thanks.)

I did a gig recently that I have sworn I will never do again. I was freezing the entire time. I was so cold that my body ached from being so tense. One player was so sharp and one so flat there was nothing to do about pitch. (They didn’t seem to notice any problem.) The music was mediocre stuff. The conductor had beat patterns that threw me until I figured out what was going on (6/8 was two bars of three, some other mixed meter portions were just messed up). Everyone was as nice as can be, though. So there’s that. And people who attended loved it.

The thing is, I’m guessing I’ll be asked back. So will I be able to stick to my “Say No” plan? I wonder. Sometimes I need the work and that causes me to cave. Especially at certain times of the year.

What to do about these tough jobs? We musicians who don’t play in full time orchestras can’t just turn down everything. Sometimes the jobs get us frustrated. Sometimes angry. Sometimes just exhausted. And sometimes embarrassed.

So I try to decide which are worth the extra effort or energy.

There are times I take a job because I know that the audience will love it, despite my reservations. I have to go in with a good attitude. Being down on a gig is just a bad way to begin; it means I’ll be uptight the entire time. Going in with a snobby attitude is especially detrimental. The funny thing is that I sometimes then end up playing poorly and that isn’t a option. No matter what gig I take I have to play the best I can play. This doesn’t mean I should play the best that some of the other musicians play … I have to play my best. Period.

Okay. Thoughts done for the moment. This is probably coming across as egotistical or something. Saying, “This gig just isn’t good enough,” probably sound awful (and of course I would never put it that way to whoever wants to hire me). But it is something we have to deal with on occasion.

I have a habit of asking my students how they are when they walk into the studio. Actually, the conversation usually goes like this:

Me: “Well hello there! And how are you today?”

Student: “Tired.”

Me: “Well, that’s nothing new. And how’s the oboe?”

Student: “Okay.”

I hereby announce that I am not going to be asking my students those two questions. They call for no creativity. Every student answers in the same way. At least most of the time. So this has got to stop! I’m tired of students saying they are tired. And I’ll know whether the oboe is really “okay” shortly after they sit down anyway!

I do wish students weren’t so tired all the time. It’s very troubling to have exhausted students sitting there attempting to play. Or looking very glum that they must attempt to play. It’s sometimes very difficult to keep my own energy level up when they give off “weary vibes.” Maybe next time I’ll just suggest that the student can pay for a nap.

Just kidding, of course. But students, perhaps you could think of something else to say if I forget I said I wasn’t going to ask how you are. Even if you just say something like “Well, I could have more energy but I’m ready for a lesson now so I’ll hang in there for the next hour or so!”

Please? :-)

I love teaching you. Really I do! I just want you to be present here, if you know what I mean!