This is the Story of Why Chi Needs to Develop a Backbone
So, friends. Let me take you back in time to Tuesday evening. I am busy planning my move forty-five minutes down the interstate, submitting my resumes to some new jobs.
My cell phone rings. It is the sister of a classmate from high school that I have not heard from in the five years since graduation. It turns out her sister (my former classmate) is getting married Saturday and her pianist just realized she is not capable of playing the music S wanted played at her wedding. Would I be available to play and accompany the violinist they've hired (who is a friend of the family)?
Well, I was already planning on spending the weekend at home because my parents needed my dog-sitting services. So, I said yes, I would be available. They asked me how much I would charge. I answered "however much you think is fair." (Mistake #1.)
So I get to the rehearsal on Friday, having run through the music they've provided me. It's not difficult stuff (Canon in D; Air in G; Autumn; Ave Maria...), in fact, it's stuff that every musician that I know has in their repertoire. I meet the violinist, and she seems like a nice kid. She's probably fifteen or sixteen. So. Super-sensitive teenager. Super-sensitive bride. Me. In the middle.
Well, as you can imagine, she's about as competent as most high school musicians, which is to say that she's serviceable but not outstanding. And after a few counting foibles, some missed key signatures, and a mild screeching sound, the bride is in tears at the end of the rehearsal.
I go into panic-control mode. I say to S, "What would be the ideal situation?" So, long story short, she decides to ask the violinist to restrict her playing to one very specific part of the ceremony, and I was asked to pick an entirely new set of music.
This is Friday. The wedding is Saturday.
So. Friday night, after the rehearsal dinner, I rush home. I dig through cabinets and closets and pull out everything that seems reasonable. Only I have been told not to pick anything "traditional". Also, half of my music is in Manhattan, and half of it is here.
I don't have anything I think is suitable so I call a friend and beg her help. I borrow a book from her, rearrange the entire order of the ceremony as far as music goes, and fall, unconscious, into bed.
By 5:30 the next day, I have my trusty page-turner with me (my future sister-in-law's younger sister who is still young enough to think $15 for 3 hours of work is a pretty good deal). We arrive at the church and start running through the New Music.
There is a wedding coordinator. Her name is Penny. Her job seems to be Freaking Out.
So she runs through the music with me also, but she's just one of those people that's not what I would call a Music Person, so everything sounds the same to her, and I'm starting to get irritated because I know how to do my job and I think she should just do HER job and trust me to do mine, but given the level of professionalism displayed by everyone else in this wedding I really can't blame her for being concerned.
SO THEN. The violinist shows up.
With her mother.
Cue a tantrum the likes of which I have not seen in years. The violinist had been called but she hadn't UNDERSTOOD and so now both she and her mother are very, very upset. I leave them in Penny's hands (as I figure this is what she is getting paid to handle, and would prefer not to be so upset I cannot play when it is time for the ceremony), take my page-turner and go for a walk around the church.
Y'ALL. This fit took at least half-an-hour for Penny to subside.
Anyway. I got through the ceremony and it was beautiful and the music sounded really good, if I do say so myself. Afterwards, the mother of the bride gives me a hug and says she's confident I'll be happy with how much they're going to pay me because it's "quite a bit more" than they were planning on.
Today, they dropped off the check.
"Quite a bit more"? = $40.
*Head.Desk*
So. This is the official announcement. Yes. I will play at your wedding. I would be thrilled to. Yes. I will work with other musicians. Yes. I will help you choose your music. I would be happy to.
But I will not do it for less than $100. Just so you all know.
My cell phone rings. It is the sister of a classmate from high school that I have not heard from in the five years since graduation. It turns out her sister (my former classmate) is getting married Saturday and her pianist just realized she is not capable of playing the music S wanted played at her wedding. Would I be available to play and accompany the violinist they've hired (who is a friend of the family)?
Well, I was already planning on spending the weekend at home because my parents needed my dog-sitting services. So, I said yes, I would be available. They asked me how much I would charge. I answered "however much you think is fair." (Mistake #1.)
So I get to the rehearsal on Friday, having run through the music they've provided me. It's not difficult stuff (Canon in D; Air in G; Autumn; Ave Maria...), in fact, it's stuff that every musician that I know has in their repertoire. I meet the violinist, and she seems like a nice kid. She's probably fifteen or sixteen. So. Super-sensitive teenager. Super-sensitive bride. Me. In the middle.
Well, as you can imagine, she's about as competent as most high school musicians, which is to say that she's serviceable but not outstanding. And after a few counting foibles, some missed key signatures, and a mild screeching sound, the bride is in tears at the end of the rehearsal.
I go into panic-control mode. I say to S, "What would be the ideal situation?" So, long story short, she decides to ask the violinist to restrict her playing to one very specific part of the ceremony, and I was asked to pick an entirely new set of music.
This is Friday. The wedding is Saturday.
So. Friday night, after the rehearsal dinner, I rush home. I dig through cabinets and closets and pull out everything that seems reasonable. Only I have been told not to pick anything "traditional". Also, half of my music is in Manhattan, and half of it is here.
I don't have anything I think is suitable so I call a friend and beg her help. I borrow a book from her, rearrange the entire order of the ceremony as far as music goes, and fall, unconscious, into bed.
By 5:30 the next day, I have my trusty page-turner with me (my future sister-in-law's younger sister who is still young enough to think $15 for 3 hours of work is a pretty good deal). We arrive at the church and start running through the New Music.
There is a wedding coordinator. Her name is Penny. Her job seems to be Freaking Out.
So she runs through the music with me also, but she's just one of those people that's not what I would call a Music Person, so everything sounds the same to her, and I'm starting to get irritated because I know how to do my job and I think she should just do HER job and trust me to do mine, but given the level of professionalism displayed by everyone else in this wedding I really can't blame her for being concerned.
SO THEN. The violinist shows up.
With her mother.
Cue a tantrum the likes of which I have not seen in years. The violinist had been called but she hadn't UNDERSTOOD and so now both she and her mother are very, very upset. I leave them in Penny's hands (as I figure this is what she is getting paid to handle, and would prefer not to be so upset I cannot play when it is time for the ceremony), take my page-turner and go for a walk around the church.
Y'ALL. This fit took at least half-an-hour for Penny to subside.
Anyway. I got through the ceremony and it was beautiful and the music sounded really good, if I do say so myself. Afterwards, the mother of the bride gives me a hug and says she's confident I'll be happy with how much they're going to pay me because it's "quite a bit more" than they were planning on.
Today, they dropped off the check.
"Quite a bit more"? = $40.
*Head.Desk*
So. This is the official announcement. Yes. I will play at your wedding. I would be thrilled to. Yes. I will work with other musicians. Yes. I will help you choose your music. I would be happy to.
But I will not do it for less than $100. Just so you all know.