Fancy Band: In the bleak midwinter
After I got off work, I went to have my dinner. Puffy is taking a class so she needs to get out of work relatively on time on Thursdays too, but she stayed to talk with me and BBC for a few minutes. She was questioning my food, specifically the amount I was eating. It was partly out of concern that I was eating enough (it was plenty--and believe me, I'd pigged out for days beforehand; saving a few calories would not be a big deal), but also because she knows that metabolisms change as one gets older and she knows that older people don't really eat as much. My grandma tends to eat like a bird, but she's 91. At 46, I haven't really hit that point of my life. I have a feeling it's coming, but it's more like a glacier before climate change: Slow.
I tend to eat an apple with my dinner, and once I'm done I want to wash my hands, brush my teeth, and use the bathroom before heading over. Except, the office manager *also* has something going on on certain Thursdays, and he ventures into the back building bathroom (there's only one), and *ahem* he takes a while. Okay, well, I don't feel like hanging out until he finishes, and I *really* don't want to go in there after him, so I decided to head to the front building...where both of those bathrooms were also occupied, or at least the doors were closed. I know BBC was in one of them; a room renter-related person was likely in the other. At least there's a sink in the kitchen area so I could at least wash my hands! I did not want to leave without doing at least that. Guess I'll do the rest once I get to band. So I did, and flute W caught me brushing my teeth in there. One of the clarinet players also did the same thing so at least I wasn't a total weirdo.
Dr. K had flip-flopped the rehearsal order this week. We therefore started with the fanfare, and at 6:15 the toccata was scheduled, meaning I was due in band a full hour ahead of what's been happening lately, and in theory I'd be done over an hour before band technically was over. I hung out a bit with big clarinet T and trumpet J, who said that trombone R, the lead setup person, was off again this week. It sounds like he's dealing with some personal stuff so that's understandable, but they also said the setup might be a little rougher than usual due to that. (It turned out that we were short a chair in the front row once everybody got in--H was like, guess I'm not needed!--but we found another chair and squeezed her in.) B was in a practice room warming up her piccolo, and she came out to hear J and I talking about the new piece we'll be working on in Regular Band, the Slavic one. J hadn't really gone through the email and I think he pulled up the recording to listen to it then and there. That is definitely going to take us out of our comfort zone over there.
(Right; Dr. K's email heading for the rehearsal schedule was titled "THIS WEEK IS DIFFERENT," which cracked me up. But it's true. We had the same order several weeks in a row and we were getting used to it. He also emailed me our portion of the program already, back on Tuesday or so; I let him know I wouldn't get a chance to check it out until the weekend. There's a reason I'm making this post so early in the day, heh.)
Something that happened last week that I forgot to mention is that Dr. K said in passing, like between songs and not to the whole group, something about auditions. Wait wait wait, you had said we weren't going to have to audition again. He said, well, to get into the band; that was to separate the wheat from the chaff. Some people want to audition for section leader. I told him, I'm okay being chaff! I know my role! Like, in Regular Band, sure. I'm in the upper half of the section there. Here, now that I know who my section members are, I am well aware how their abilities compare with mine. I know I'm in the bottom two. I'm okay with that. Though I will say it's nice having two of our top players in W and B on the toccata with C and me. I think W's bringing up my level of playing since I'm sitting next to her.
The toccata continues to be a bane of our existence concerning notes. Dr. K should probably cancel his order of the errata book, one, because we're less than a month out from our concert, and two, we're getting good at finding the bad notes on our own. I don't want to say we set out to find and destroy the bad notes, but people are automatically questioning them (should this be natural or flat or sharp?), and we're isolating them, and sometimes it's a flub and sometimes it's a typo. And sometimes it's purely a tuning thing, where maybe it's a really high note in the upper woodwinds and it's just out of tune. We've had a few of those. There was also a point where I could see his hand moving down, an apparent gesture to decrescendo, so I asked if he did want to do that there. He had us play it again and went, you know what? Yeah! He also tapped into his inner Robert Frost, noticing that as a group we seemed to be dragging, like tired, not playing slowly. He then said something like, we're in the doldrums of the bleak midwinter. ...That's like poetry. (I am totally stealing that line. Look for it next Valentine's Day, heh.)
We got so into the toccata that we actually went over our allotted time by about 10 minutes. I should ask him if he wants people to keep him honest about that; he's been doing really well with keeping to his schedule. I think it may have to do with working toward his MBA, honestly; he's been a different Dr. K and it's for the better. He's also been dressing for success, starting with the Sunday rehearsal we had back in January. He'd always wear jeans before and untucked shirts, and ever since then he's been wearing pants with a belt and his shirt's been tucked in. That may seem like a weird thing to notice, but I sit two feet away. And, well, considering some people practically came in their pajamas on that Sunday, it stuck out.
We got into full band and worked on the space piece. The percussion section has a part that's pretty clanky and they're much improved; it doesn't sound rhythmic there, which is the point. I saw Dr. K squinting at the measure numbers again and after we finished I said, I feel like writing the numbers in for you. He said, yeah, I just need to do it. That's when C said she'd gotten "peepers," which was a term neither Dr. K nor I had heard of before. I asked, do you mean cheaters? She said no, peepers are full-size glasses. I mean, I'm somebody who has to go to an eye doctor and get a prescription; those don't apply to me. The band room is a little loud so we kept asking her if she was really saying peepers. She went, yeah, like the Easter candy; Dr. K went, like, jeepers creepers, where'd you get those peepers? Yeah! I know he has glasses because I've seen him in them, so maybe it's time to pull those out. I then said to C, let's talk about bifocals. They've definitely come in handy in the past few years. (And I definitely need to change my prescription. Sigh.)
We get through the Greek piece and now I'm technically dismissed since I'm not on the last two pieces. I said to Dr. K, I'll write in those numbers for you; I have good handwriting. He went, oh, I do my notes on Friday and Saturday; I need the score for that. I said, no, I'll do it right now. ...Oh! Well then, here you go! *hands over score* I won't turn that down! So, while the remaining group worked on the ribbon song, I sat there and drew in large-print numbers for him. It took me about 10 minutes, going back and forth between my part and the score because, for some asinine reason, it was printed as 8.5" x 11". Most of his scores are probably 11" x 14", so that it's legible. The section numbers really are tiny. After that, I didn't want to disrupt the rehearsal, so I sat there. I read through the composer's inscription in the score, which was interesting; I found out the clanky part is meant to replicate the banging of steel in assembling the parts, and the takeoff part is at a particular tempo (180) because we're supposed to hold our long note for exactly 12 seconds, which is how long the first Wright Brothers flight lasted. Aha. At least now those couple sections make more sense. I doubt that whole thing is going to make it into the program--though I guess I'll find out soon enough!--but reading through all that is really helpful. Once the band finished that song, I said, here, old man, and gave Dr. K his score back. (My parents were horrified to hear I'd done that, but he knows I'm kidding, and also...I'm older than him.)
Once that group finished and the setup was reset for the final piece, W's solo, Dr. K started talking to me about a faculty meeting he'd had earlier in the day. There's been a bit of turmoil at the school, not really well-known to outsiders, but he's kept me abreast of a few things. He told me what happened and it feels like a vindication of what happened to him surrounding the championship football game, that 1) it wasn't just him and the music department getting the brunt of certain things, and 2) that due to certain actions that happened this week, more people are aware of questionable stuff that's happening. I have to be oblique here since it's not my story to tell, but it reminds me of the Wizard of Oz when the curtain gets pulled back. The reality has been brought to the fore, so to speak. Now, as he's talking to me, there is chaos occurring in the setup, so as we finish he's like, French horns, why are you sitting in the 2nd row? The full band setup had changed last week, but he wanted this group to remain how they've been since the beginning and I guess they did not. I asked him, do you need to vent some more? Should I stick around? He said no, so I did get to leave early; I made it home by 9:15, which was nice. I'm lucky if I leave by that time some weeks.
I tend to eat an apple with my dinner, and once I'm done I want to wash my hands, brush my teeth, and use the bathroom before heading over. Except, the office manager *also* has something going on on certain Thursdays, and he ventures into the back building bathroom (there's only one), and *ahem* he takes a while. Okay, well, I don't feel like hanging out until he finishes, and I *really* don't want to go in there after him, so I decided to head to the front building...where both of those bathrooms were also occupied, or at least the doors were closed. I know BBC was in one of them; a room renter-related person was likely in the other. At least there's a sink in the kitchen area so I could at least wash my hands! I did not want to leave without doing at least that. Guess I'll do the rest once I get to band. So I did, and flute W caught me brushing my teeth in there. One of the clarinet players also did the same thing so at least I wasn't a total weirdo.
Dr. K had flip-flopped the rehearsal order this week. We therefore started with the fanfare, and at 6:15 the toccata was scheduled, meaning I was due in band a full hour ahead of what's been happening lately, and in theory I'd be done over an hour before band technically was over. I hung out a bit with big clarinet T and trumpet J, who said that trombone R, the lead setup person, was off again this week. It sounds like he's dealing with some personal stuff so that's understandable, but they also said the setup might be a little rougher than usual due to that. (It turned out that we were short a chair in the front row once everybody got in--H was like, guess I'm not needed!--but we found another chair and squeezed her in.) B was in a practice room warming up her piccolo, and she came out to hear J and I talking about the new piece we'll be working on in Regular Band, the Slavic one. J hadn't really gone through the email and I think he pulled up the recording to listen to it then and there. That is definitely going to take us out of our comfort zone over there.
(Right; Dr. K's email heading for the rehearsal schedule was titled "THIS WEEK IS DIFFERENT," which cracked me up. But it's true. We had the same order several weeks in a row and we were getting used to it. He also emailed me our portion of the program already, back on Tuesday or so; I let him know I wouldn't get a chance to check it out until the weekend. There's a reason I'm making this post so early in the day, heh.)
Something that happened last week that I forgot to mention is that Dr. K said in passing, like between songs and not to the whole group, something about auditions. Wait wait wait, you had said we weren't going to have to audition again. He said, well, to get into the band; that was to separate the wheat from the chaff. Some people want to audition for section leader. I told him, I'm okay being chaff! I know my role! Like, in Regular Band, sure. I'm in the upper half of the section there. Here, now that I know who my section members are, I am well aware how their abilities compare with mine. I know I'm in the bottom two. I'm okay with that. Though I will say it's nice having two of our top players in W and B on the toccata with C and me. I think W's bringing up my level of playing since I'm sitting next to her.
The toccata continues to be a bane of our existence concerning notes. Dr. K should probably cancel his order of the errata book, one, because we're less than a month out from our concert, and two, we're getting good at finding the bad notes on our own. I don't want to say we set out to find and destroy the bad notes, but people are automatically questioning them (should this be natural or flat or sharp?), and we're isolating them, and sometimes it's a flub and sometimes it's a typo. And sometimes it's purely a tuning thing, where maybe it's a really high note in the upper woodwinds and it's just out of tune. We've had a few of those. There was also a point where I could see his hand moving down, an apparent gesture to decrescendo, so I asked if he did want to do that there. He had us play it again and went, you know what? Yeah! He also tapped into his inner Robert Frost, noticing that as a group we seemed to be dragging, like tired, not playing slowly. He then said something like, we're in the doldrums of the bleak midwinter. ...That's like poetry. (I am totally stealing that line. Look for it next Valentine's Day, heh.)
We got so into the toccata that we actually went over our allotted time by about 10 minutes. I should ask him if he wants people to keep him honest about that; he's been doing really well with keeping to his schedule. I think it may have to do with working toward his MBA, honestly; he's been a different Dr. K and it's for the better. He's also been dressing for success, starting with the Sunday rehearsal we had back in January. He'd always wear jeans before and untucked shirts, and ever since then he's been wearing pants with a belt and his shirt's been tucked in. That may seem like a weird thing to notice, but I sit two feet away. And, well, considering some people practically came in their pajamas on that Sunday, it stuck out.
We got into full band and worked on the space piece. The percussion section has a part that's pretty clanky and they're much improved; it doesn't sound rhythmic there, which is the point. I saw Dr. K squinting at the measure numbers again and after we finished I said, I feel like writing the numbers in for you. He said, yeah, I just need to do it. That's when C said she'd gotten "peepers," which was a term neither Dr. K nor I had heard of before. I asked, do you mean cheaters? She said no, peepers are full-size glasses. I mean, I'm somebody who has to go to an eye doctor and get a prescription; those don't apply to me. The band room is a little loud so we kept asking her if she was really saying peepers. She went, yeah, like the Easter candy; Dr. K went, like, jeepers creepers, where'd you get those peepers? Yeah! I know he has glasses because I've seen him in them, so maybe it's time to pull those out. I then said to C, let's talk about bifocals. They've definitely come in handy in the past few years. (And I definitely need to change my prescription. Sigh.)
We get through the Greek piece and now I'm technically dismissed since I'm not on the last two pieces. I said to Dr. K, I'll write in those numbers for you; I have good handwriting. He went, oh, I do my notes on Friday and Saturday; I need the score for that. I said, no, I'll do it right now. ...Oh! Well then, here you go! *hands over score* I won't turn that down! So, while the remaining group worked on the ribbon song, I sat there and drew in large-print numbers for him. It took me about 10 minutes, going back and forth between my part and the score because, for some asinine reason, it was printed as 8.5" x 11". Most of his scores are probably 11" x 14", so that it's legible. The section numbers really are tiny. After that, I didn't want to disrupt the rehearsal, so I sat there. I read through the composer's inscription in the score, which was interesting; I found out the clanky part is meant to replicate the banging of steel in assembling the parts, and the takeoff part is at a particular tempo (180) because we're supposed to hold our long note for exactly 12 seconds, which is how long the first Wright Brothers flight lasted. Aha. At least now those couple sections make more sense. I doubt that whole thing is going to make it into the program--though I guess I'll find out soon enough!--but reading through all that is really helpful. Once the band finished that song, I said, here, old man, and gave Dr. K his score back. (My parents were horrified to hear I'd done that, but he knows I'm kidding, and also...I'm older than him.)
Once that group finished and the setup was reset for the final piece, W's solo, Dr. K started talking to me about a faculty meeting he'd had earlier in the day. There's been a bit of turmoil at the school, not really well-known to outsiders, but he's kept me abreast of a few things. He told me what happened and it feels like a vindication of what happened to him surrounding the championship football game, that 1) it wasn't just him and the music department getting the brunt of certain things, and 2) that due to certain actions that happened this week, more people are aware of questionable stuff that's happening. I have to be oblique here since it's not my story to tell, but it reminds me of the Wizard of Oz when the curtain gets pulled back. The reality has been brought to the fore, so to speak. Now, as he's talking to me, there is chaos occurring in the setup, so as we finish he's like, French horns, why are you sitting in the 2nd row? The full band setup had changed last week, but he wanted this group to remain how they've been since the beginning and I guess they did not. I asked him, do you need to vent some more? Should I stick around? He said no, so I did get to leave early; I made it home by 9:15, which was nice. I'm lucky if I leave by that time some weeks.