Solo Contest 2017 #1
Yesterday was a very long day. I was gone from about 6:30 AM to 9:30 PM. The good news is that virtually everything went well, and even the part involving tears got resolved in short order.
Normally, this weekend would be Mr. M's solo contest. However, as expected, he no longer teaches at the school where his contest was run, so now he's having to do things differently and it's caused a dramatic change in when his contest is--not 'til April. The date isn't confirmed and won't be until Tuesday, he said. The potential date was one where I had a potential conflict, but I've decided I'd rather do the solo contest; the conflict would be a work thing. My boss could use my help, but he hasn't asked me yet, so…there you go. There's also the complication of one of the weekends in April being Easter, so right there is a weekend nobody can touch.
Anyway, Mr. C took advantage of the opening of this weekend's date and decided to give his kids two extra weeks to prepare their solos. He said, turns out it didn't matter--the good kids are still good, the bad kids are still slugs. Luckily nobody was super-duper bad, at least that I heard, though Mr. M got our not-so-little-anymore baritone player from camp and was royally upset with himself for not giving him a third. The kid ended up with a low second. I'm sure, when Mr. C gets the score sheets, he will explain to our baritone friend that he got a second by the skin of his teeth.
We started the day with a complication--one of the judges, Luana, was sick. This meant Mr. C had to judge. He said he'd take mainly the kids from the other directors, Mr. D and Ms. W. For me, at least, this meant everyone save for the final four kids I saw were Mr. C's students, and probably half I already knew from camp. I also got a number of little kids, which is fine. They're cute. I'm good with them. I probably gave away more seconds than firsts, but a number of firsts were 28s. The highest score possible is a 30, which I have never given. I had one 29, who was Mr. D's flute player. It's her tone, I believe, and that she can't tongue well; that was her only drawback. A number of kids kind of "ha" their way through the separation of their notes, as opposed to "ta"-ing, which is the correct way. There's a reason it's called tonguing, guys! This flute player was older, at least 7th grade; you see it more with younger students, so that was actually kind of disappointing. There was also an older sax player who played sax off to the side, which is also common with younger kids, but ergonomically one should play it in the center of the body. He actually appeared contorted while playing. Sweetie, this is going to cause you major physical problems in your life if you don't change how you play.
There was another sax player in that same group with the older sax; both boys have been to camp. The younger one plays tenor…well, when his sax works, that is. He was the third of four to go in his session, and his scales were okay, but when he went to play his solo, he got two measures in and I knew there was a problem. I let him go four measures total before stopping him and tried to troubleshoot. How's your reed? It was brand new. Okay, let's have you stop, soak your reed the entire time Charlie plays, then have you try again. He tried; it was still bad. I then let the other three go and said we'd find the school secretary to take him to the repair table, and he could come back and join the next group. By then he was in tears, and I told him gently, it's not fair for you to play this solo when your sax doesn't work. I want to make sure you can play it correctly. About halfway through the next group, I could hear voices in the hall, so we got him back in and I had him play at the end--MUCH better. I'm pretty sure I gave him a high second, because there were some flaws, but at least I knew it was him and not the sax, you know?
One thing I do at contest is talk up camp. Mr. C had brought all the fliers--he'd emailed me for pictures, and even put the link to my online camp photo collection in the brochure--and I think they get stapled to the score sheets. They're all fancy! They're on good quality paper and in color! Woo! Except…I would talk to the kids, and after a couple groups (and the early groups could have been younger kids, too, so that's why they didn't say anything), some would say they were told it might be the last year of camp. …Oh. Now, to be fair, I've been working under that assumption for several years. The directors are in their mid- to late 60s, they're nearing retirement, and they're down to two schools each. Not only that, but enrollment is declining at the schools and therefore the bands, so the pool of potential campers has dwindled. However, last year, Mr. C had said they'd run it for as long as it's still fun, so I was kind of like, are we going to year 31? Year 32? To hear it from the kids, that this might be the last one, was a little hard to hear, but then I spun it around and said, well, then you should come and experience it at least once! This is the year to come! After we finished, I overheard one of the helper parents saying they had something like 12 sign-ups, plus a number more who were definitely interested, so they were halfway to this year's goal number--it's only 70 this year.
I'm sure I have more stories--I would even stop and jot down notes when I would get breaks--but I'll stop there for now. I definitely need to go into the post-contest stories, but it was a long day and my stamina is low.
Normally, this weekend would be Mr. M's solo contest. However, as expected, he no longer teaches at the school where his contest was run, so now he's having to do things differently and it's caused a dramatic change in when his contest is--not 'til April. The date isn't confirmed and won't be until Tuesday, he said. The potential date was one where I had a potential conflict, but I've decided I'd rather do the solo contest; the conflict would be a work thing. My boss could use my help, but he hasn't asked me yet, so…there you go. There's also the complication of one of the weekends in April being Easter, so right there is a weekend nobody can touch.
Anyway, Mr. C took advantage of the opening of this weekend's date and decided to give his kids two extra weeks to prepare their solos. He said, turns out it didn't matter--the good kids are still good, the bad kids are still slugs. Luckily nobody was super-duper bad, at least that I heard, though Mr. M got our not-so-little-anymore baritone player from camp and was royally upset with himself for not giving him a third. The kid ended up with a low second. I'm sure, when Mr. C gets the score sheets, he will explain to our baritone friend that he got a second by the skin of his teeth.
We started the day with a complication--one of the judges, Luana, was sick. This meant Mr. C had to judge. He said he'd take mainly the kids from the other directors, Mr. D and Ms. W. For me, at least, this meant everyone save for the final four kids I saw were Mr. C's students, and probably half I already knew from camp. I also got a number of little kids, which is fine. They're cute. I'm good with them. I probably gave away more seconds than firsts, but a number of firsts were 28s. The highest score possible is a 30, which I have never given. I had one 29, who was Mr. D's flute player. It's her tone, I believe, and that she can't tongue well; that was her only drawback. A number of kids kind of "ha" their way through the separation of their notes, as opposed to "ta"-ing, which is the correct way. There's a reason it's called tonguing, guys! This flute player was older, at least 7th grade; you see it more with younger students, so that was actually kind of disappointing. There was also an older sax player who played sax off to the side, which is also common with younger kids, but ergonomically one should play it in the center of the body. He actually appeared contorted while playing. Sweetie, this is going to cause you major physical problems in your life if you don't change how you play.
There was another sax player in that same group with the older sax; both boys have been to camp. The younger one plays tenor…well, when his sax works, that is. He was the third of four to go in his session, and his scales were okay, but when he went to play his solo, he got two measures in and I knew there was a problem. I let him go four measures total before stopping him and tried to troubleshoot. How's your reed? It was brand new. Okay, let's have you stop, soak your reed the entire time Charlie plays, then have you try again. He tried; it was still bad. I then let the other three go and said we'd find the school secretary to take him to the repair table, and he could come back and join the next group. By then he was in tears, and I told him gently, it's not fair for you to play this solo when your sax doesn't work. I want to make sure you can play it correctly. About halfway through the next group, I could hear voices in the hall, so we got him back in and I had him play at the end--MUCH better. I'm pretty sure I gave him a high second, because there were some flaws, but at least I knew it was him and not the sax, you know?
One thing I do at contest is talk up camp. Mr. C had brought all the fliers--he'd emailed me for pictures, and even put the link to my online camp photo collection in the brochure--and I think they get stapled to the score sheets. They're all fancy! They're on good quality paper and in color! Woo! Except…I would talk to the kids, and after a couple groups (and the early groups could have been younger kids, too, so that's why they didn't say anything), some would say they were told it might be the last year of camp. …Oh. Now, to be fair, I've been working under that assumption for several years. The directors are in their mid- to late 60s, they're nearing retirement, and they're down to two schools each. Not only that, but enrollment is declining at the schools and therefore the bands, so the pool of potential campers has dwindled. However, last year, Mr. C had said they'd run it for as long as it's still fun, so I was kind of like, are we going to year 31? Year 32? To hear it from the kids, that this might be the last one, was a little hard to hear, but then I spun it around and said, well, then you should come and experience it at least once! This is the year to come! After we finished, I overheard one of the helper parents saying they had something like 12 sign-ups, plus a number more who were definitely interested, so they were halfway to this year's goal number--it's only 70 this year.
I'm sure I have more stories--I would even stop and jot down notes when I would get breaks--but I'll stop there for now. I definitely need to go into the post-contest stories, but it was a long day and my stamina is low.