I will just say one quick thing today. I’ll blog more later … probably sometime next week. But here you go:
A youth orchestra should consist of youths.
Really. And that’s all I’ll write for now.
We have become a non-singing people, and something has gone out of our lives that was once very significant.
-Robertson Davies
… how ’bout some Telemann? I absolutely love playing Telemann; I think he sits well with our contemporary oboe fingerings. Enjoy!
The otologist emailed me last night. I was at AT&T ballpark, and yet there I was checking email! Ah, technology! I also sent emails, tweeted, and checked Facebook. Pretty darn pathetic and, to be honest, it takes away from the game experience. I think I’ll attempt to leave my iPod Touch home next time. (Fat chance.)
But the results are in. According to her, and she read the results herself, my MRI is “normal”. Hah! Me? Normal? That’s questionable, don’t you think?
Anyway, since I wasn’t the least bit worried — unless there was some little thing in the back of my mind that I was ignoring, which I can mange to do at times — it didn’t really change anything.
Except … well … it means “there’s nothing to be done right now but be patient and wait,” and so that’s what I’m going to do. And I’m going to try very hard not to whine. Anyone who reads this may call me on that if I fail! Really.
“Clearly you are a sadist, you play the oboe”
I have to compare two types of classical music, from different era’s. This can be romantic, bourlesque or any other type of music.
Halftime report during Game 5:
I just located some oboe recital videos and was surprised to find a name I recognize! While we’ve never met, I have visited Victoria Sabonjohn’s blog, and so I feel as if I know her a wee bit at least.
Dr. Ann Adams and Victoria Sabonjohn. Music by Gilles Silvestrini. Performed at Stetson University, DeLand FL. :
So, we took our stupid final while he played his stupid classical music. He ALWAYS does this during tests, and calls it “Music to fail with”. If I failed that final, I BLAME HIS STUPID CLASSICAL MUSIC.
And reading the student’s blog, she’s a flute and oboe player. She also wrote about her failed algebra class:
It doesn’t help that my math class was the first thing in the morning and I stumbled in there half sleepy and drunk and was tardy most of the time. Thanks, scheduling lady for doing that. Thanks a lot.
So yes, well, may I once again remind folks that anything you write on your little blogs can be found. And if you put your name at your blog, as this student did, and someone not-so-nice comes along, you might end up in a wee bit ‘o trouble.
Discretion. It’s a good thing.
Weird dream: I dreamed of Candice killing T-800′s with an oboe in the Middle Earth!!!
When I was young, we went to church both in the morning at in the evening. I remember those evenings fondly. My father sometimes lead the hymn singing. He also did a bit of talking and educating between those hymns. Wonderful memories! So here is a bit of Sunday Evening Music for you. (This one if from a Mennonite school.)
For so many, hymns are completely foreign. For me they are a comfort, and they feel like “home”.
Deep Waters
I’m all for Tweeting and spreading the word, but not during performances. Between pieces, maybe, if you can stop when the music starts up again; while standing in line for the restroom, definitely; at intermission or on the train afterwards, definitely. The problem is that acoustic performers rely on the audience’s attention and focus and can tell when the audience isn’t mentally present. Your listening is part of our interpretive process. If you’re not really listening, we’re not getting the feedback of energy from the hall, and then we might as well be practicing for a bunch of people peering in the window. It’s just not as interesting when the cycle of interpretation is broken.
-Hilary Hahn
Please read the blog entry that includes these words from Hilary Hahn. You will note, too, that David Lang doesn’t agree with her.
I know that many will disagree, and I’ve recently read a lot of tweets from people while they are at a concert. It does sometimes depend upon the type of concert, but really, when I’m working incredibly hard trying to move you I’m a bit dismayed to know that what we are doing on stage isn’t really the focus after all. It feels weird. Maybe I’m too sensitive. Maybe I’m too self-centered too. Dunno!
But tell ya what … when I’m performing I won’t blog or tweet or even read a magazine or book if you won’t. Deal?
Morten Lauridsen: O Magnum Mysterium
A few weeks ago, I was cleaning my oboe with a cloth. that is pulled through the oboe. As the oboe becomes thinner nearer to the top, problems may occur when a knot or some unforeseen increase in thickness of the cloth draws closer to this area. To my distress, a knot had in fact knotted itself (OR BEEN KNOTTED?) in my oboe cloth!
This is why I use a soft cotton swab rather than the silk pull through swabs that can easily knot. Yes, I have to take my instrument apart to swab, but I’ve never had to deal with a stuck cotton swab! That just doesn’t happen. Or at least has never happened to me.
If you insist on using a silk swab, be sure it isn’t knotted when you drop it down the oboe. Once it falls through to the end (top) of the oboe, bring your oboe to an upright position and pull it through upwards rather than downwards. This way it doesn’t bunch up on itself.
Another event occurred in windsymph this morning where i looked in my reed case and discovered several black-green fronds of mould sprouting furrily from my reeds.
Brush your teeth. Make sure your reeds dry out. That’s about all you can do. Sometimes they still mold for some reason. Must be the climate …?
I do have one big complaint about audiences in all countries, and that is their artificial restraint from applause between movements of a concerto or symphony. Of course applause should be spontaneous, not dutiful, but often it is the most natural thing to applaud between movements.
-Pierre Monteux
Terry Teachout has written about applause for the Wall Street Journal. He, too, thinks we can lighten up about the whole applause issue, suggesting opera and ballet goers could teach others a thing or two. He also agrees with me (so he must be right!) that there are those times that silence should come first. When a work has torn at your guts, and ends in a hush, it doesn’t even feel right to jump in with loud clapping until you’ve managed to bask in the ahhh of it all.
