Mar 24, 2007 23:59
I fail at essay writing. I'm sorry. Let me try again, even if not all about this show specifiacally. (I swear I meant to figure out something better, my parents made me go to sleep before I got a chance to. And I'm making lame excuses... I really just suck at writing. Which is why I'm making a second attempt, which I think is a little better)
When I mess up a set, or a rhythm or something, I don't care how I look. I just feel like I've failed myself, that I've done less than I should have been able to, I wasn't who I could've been...
But what I care almost more about is that it could make the group sound or look worse, or that my mistake will throw off people around me. And more than any other external force it is this fear that I could let others down that compels me to perform well. Because after what they've done for me, the least I could do is help them be successful instead of them being successful despite me; I have no doubt the group will be successful.
What has this group done? They've given me oppurtunities to vent about evil french teachers, made me smile, helped me learn new instruments and how to march a different way, accepted me.. helped me change; I still believe that however far I am I am there because of this activiity. I can feel the change most on the floor; last year I was always afraid, at a show or not, I was always hiding. Now marching bass I know I play that much stronger, and stand just a little taller. Or at least that's how it feels. And even if this confidence hasn't carried over to life outside of percussion, when I feel that power on the floor, it is amazing.
I love this activity. This season, I am on bass four, which I love. I grew to hate my small drum marching season, it wasn't as deep and powerful as the lower basses, instead of "goosh" I get "tink" (not quite, but you get the idea). But it's up beats (though I've noticed that it really is fairly mixed for everything which isn't eights), and I'm not sure I could get the chops for bass 5. I love the people I perform with, and I am so glad that I didn't choose Pomona or Thorton because then I wouldn't have met these people, and who knows where I'd be now? I owe so much to those I've met here.
Probably the thing I miss most about out of the ashes is the fact that it had a defined story behind it. Masquerade is a collection of songs that perhaps a story of sorts could in time be drawn out of in time. I find is easier to play expressively when I've found a memory or something that spurs the emotion in the music, and that's easier with a story to relate to it, I think. I've started to find some of this in the ballad, and the rest is just trying to perform and look as b.a. as I am capable of being. Part of my thinking during the show is always what I'm conveying, what emotion I'm showing.
My thinking during the ballad reflects something which I'm dealing with now. And event which causes me to feel, at different times, sad and depressed (up to set before I), proud and unwilling to let anything hurt me (I, changes during set before), and resigned and just short of letting go (ending). I don't really focus on this, but I do want to be more expressive and this helps me to do so. The rest is just trying to perform and march and play confidently. As far as the expressive-ness part, I mean.
When I'm behind the prop for the opener, I'm usually a little scared and I listen to what the pit and watch the front line (the members I can see) and breathe in attempt to focus and get that bit of fear to go away. When Emily is about to turn the prop I stand as straight as I can and try to keep this as I face the audience. run in front of props, make a diag, rotate into a line, and then we start playing. Our first turn around I look at the snares; this is one of the few times I can see anyone's face during the show, and doing so kind of reminds me of what I need to do (feeding into performance). The spiral is probably one of my favorite sets now that I don't take a too-straight line. And then the end (yay lines), and I get ready for the ballad.
The beginning of the ballad is possibly one of my favorite parts of the show because it is where I've found emotion in the music (as opposed to just the show and activity as a whole). I love the move at the beginning, especially with the right foot now behind the left before it. It just feels cool to me. I like the circle, but the pass through still scares me. I don't almost kill Jenny or Emily anymore, but I end up practically leaping behind Jenny the last count. The set before I (the one into the two lines, with the rit.) is good, because to me it is a transformation from being weak and vulnerable to having a tough skin and not letting things hurt you/me (what POV do you use for mental effects? "One" does't seem right in this context) The pose is sweet, and the jammy-jam, and then I go behind a prop. I'm always relieved after the bass solo. we move a little bit and the play 2 counts and explose towards props.
The snap up always seems powerful to me. Kind of like, "yeah, you thought I lost the strength to act bad ass didn't you? As if!" I love the new set before B, because it always seems like it won't work but somehow does. And the spinning sets after it- it's so fun! The ending is always loud, and I love playing the last few notes. Then I wait for a tap, and we race to set drums down and fold the tarp. And after the excitement of the show , I always feel calm because I replaced or vented so much emotion that when I come back to life I have no emotion or stress to worry about, it all left during the performance.
"Is the ensemble ready?" In truth I never feel like I am ready to do the show. But I won't let that stop me from finding a confidence which is not my own. Sometimes it feels like there's a flow of energy coming from each member the group, creating some shared cloud of energy... or something.. I'm not sure how to explain it. But it is this energy that makes me know that I can do what is asked of me, I am ready to perform. And I won't do it the same every time- I will find some way to make it better.