Cello Sectionals
Yesterday, our section leader told us that if we couldn't get this one dreadfully difficult part prepared well enough by today's rehearsal, she'd make us stay afterwards until we got it right.
We've only had this piece for about two weeks.
Rehearsal today was 2 and a half hours long and did not end until 9:00pm.
I've had a nervous case of butterflies all day today. I did not want to have sectionals. We've only had two sectionals so far this year, and both times I've felt horribly nervous, unconfident, degraded, and humiliated. I'm already stressed enough. I don't need anything else to push me closer to a breakdown.
I practiced this afternoon. I was so wrapped up inn getting the darn thing presentable that I completely forgot about other commitments - like a meeting with my Paideia professor about grading my paper on Discourse on Free Will. Yeah. Whoops. And still, the practice didn't do any good. The entire time, all I could think about was how terrible I sounded, what a horrible cellist I am, and how I'm going to bring down the performance level of the entire orchestra. Not a very productive practice session, I must say.
I wonder if she's ever stopped to consider that maybe the reason the back of the cello section has so much difficulty playing the music is not a matter of inadequacy or lack of effort, but rather a matter of nerves, pressure, and a case of severely low self-confidence?
In fact, I was so nervous that when the time of judgement came, my fingers slipped and I messed up the phrase entirely. I was not alone. I heard similar slip-ups and sighs of frustration from those around me. And sure enough, I looked up to see our section leader give an unamused smile and nod at the other elites.
About 5 minutes later, word was passed down through the stands. Sectionals. Directly after rehearsal. Recital Hall.
After about 45 minutes of being patronized, showing off my (lack of) talent, and feeling so anxious and panicked that I couldn't decide whether I wanted to faint or barf... our section leader called the sectional over, with an attitude of "Well, I guess this isn't so bad, if this is the best we can hope for."
Then we packed up our instruments and commenced a solemn procession through the pouring rain to the music hall to put away our cases and folders.
And here I am.
Someone remind me... Why am I doing this again?
We've only had this piece for about two weeks.
Rehearsal today was 2 and a half hours long and did not end until 9:00pm.
I've had a nervous case of butterflies all day today. I did not want to have sectionals. We've only had two sectionals so far this year, and both times I've felt horribly nervous, unconfident, degraded, and humiliated. I'm already stressed enough. I don't need anything else to push me closer to a breakdown.
I practiced this afternoon. I was so wrapped up inn getting the darn thing presentable that I completely forgot about other commitments - like a meeting with my Paideia professor about grading my paper on Discourse on Free Will. Yeah. Whoops. And still, the practice didn't do any good. The entire time, all I could think about was how terrible I sounded, what a horrible cellist I am, and how I'm going to bring down the performance level of the entire orchestra. Not a very productive practice session, I must say.
I wonder if she's ever stopped to consider that maybe the reason the back of the cello section has so much difficulty playing the music is not a matter of inadequacy or lack of effort, but rather a matter of nerves, pressure, and a case of severely low self-confidence?
In fact, I was so nervous that when the time of judgement came, my fingers slipped and I messed up the phrase entirely. I was not alone. I heard similar slip-ups and sighs of frustration from those around me. And sure enough, I looked up to see our section leader give an unamused smile and nod at the other elites.
About 5 minutes later, word was passed down through the stands. Sectionals. Directly after rehearsal. Recital Hall.
After about 45 minutes of being patronized, showing off my (lack of) talent, and feeling so anxious and panicked that I couldn't decide whether I wanted to faint or barf... our section leader called the sectional over, with an attitude of "Well, I guess this isn't so bad, if this is the best we can hope for."
Then we packed up our instruments and commenced a solemn procession through the pouring rain to the music hall to put away our cases and folders.
And here I am.
Someone remind me... Why am I doing this again?