Concert #8: The audience kindly requests
This was likely our longest concert of the season, and may well have been the second most popular concert after the 4th of July one. I say that because they gave out all 1,000 numbered programs, and I believe one of the raffle winning numbers was 957. See, sometimes it pays to come later. I definitely know what the last number picked was--666. No joke. You should have heard the collective gasp from the audience; it was some older woman. I joked to the oboe player, just look for the horns.
Yep, this was another piccolo concert, so I got to sit in the front row. I was super worried about this concert--I'm gonna die!--but once I'd practiced last Sunday, it actually wasn't so bad. Three of the songs didn't have separate piccolo parts, just flute, so that gave me a rest; and then most of the others were in a decent (not super-high) range, though I did have to worry about some intonation problems at times. We did an Elvis medley where I had to hold a high D for a while, and my eyebrows got a workout--when I'm trying to hold a pitch up so it doesn't go flat, I kind of stretch my face, including raising my eyebrows. Raise the eyebrows, raise the pitch. It's a legit technique. *nods sagely*
Back to last Wednesday, when I got to rehearsal, I went to freshen up. The paper towels in the one bathroom have been a problem for a few weeks now. The dispenser is battery-powered only; you can't push a lever to get the towels out. The battery clearly had been going, but the previous week seemed better somehow. Last week, though? Totally out. I had to wipe my hands on my pants. And it certainly wasn't that there weren't towels in the dispenser; I could see them, and it clearly was pretty full. Sigh. I found the director and had to wait for him to finish a conversation with the Eb clarinet player, then let him know the situation. He immediately got on the phone with the right people and said someone would be right over. Maybe a half-hour later, he gave me an update: There are towels again. Phew! But in the meantime, the Eb player's husband had come over to her and started wiping his hands on her shirt. We'd had a sub in the flute section and she had to explain how they were related and he wasn't just some random guy doing that, heh. Aha, I see you'd used the one bathroom. So, yeah, with the second flute section, I got bumped up and essentially was off second part; our one player with the health issues couldn't make it; and at the concert, the one kind of flaky lady who only shows up half the time, she showed up, but realized she'd forgotten her flute and couldn't play, and this was within 15 minutes of the concert so she didn't have time to go get it. (I'd *really* had to use the bathroom and discovered her in the nearby kitchen area swearing.) I'd looked over during the concert and she wasn't there; she must've just gone home. So, anyway, the section leader had gotten someone to cover for the sick player, and then next week someone else will be gone so the section leader's daughter-in-law will join us, along with the other sub. It's weird, in a way, and I feel mildly threatened by that since if we lose anyone out of the section, that means I'll have to share a stand with whomever comes in. I've gotten used to being last chair. My chair. (My precious!) Though it would mean I'd be the person on the left side of the stand, and that's the more comfortable chair for me.
Rehearsal ran LONG. Oy. I didn't leave until 9:45 last Wednesday. We're normally done about 9. Our opening song, at least to that point, was the march with the short piccolo duet at the beginning. Flute 6 was excited because not only would she get to play her new piccolo, she'd then get to put it away immediately. I keep complaining about how dumb this duet was--just five or so measures long, and we didn't change pitches. Snore. However, we played it plenty, because we ended up having to start the song a half-dozen times (and one time I wasn't entirely paying attention because we'd spent 20 minutes on it already, and I was zoning out, ready to move on...oops, I'm here!). The trombones come in after a few measures and kept botching their entrance, necessitating us playing it over and over again. Well, at least we got in our practice. And then, after all that? The director swapped out this march for one later in the program--and it was one where I had to play high notes almost immediately. I'd been really happy with the positioning of both marches; this now screwed things up. Boo. Boo, I say. But they were fine. The other picc player, she did briefly play picc on something else to sort of warm up for the duet, which was totally fine and understandable.
For some of the other songs we did, the Copland one ended up being the inferior version. I want the portrait, not the tribute. I'd thought this one (tribute) was what I'd done in college, but the version of "Hoedown" at the end was definitely not what I'd played before. Okay, well, at least I've cleared that up. I still can't believe there are two similar versions of the same medley out there. So frustrating. Especially since the other version is better. We also had a Pirates of the Caribbean medley that we've done before; it's not the one I'd done while I was teaching, but parts of that were similar too. I have weak, yet fond memories of working on the 12/8 time section with my students back then, so this was a happy thing for me, if wistful. We also did the theme from American Bandstand, which I'd done at camp back in my camper days, so that was another blast from the past. That is yet another song with multiple similar versions--the one from camp was concert style, written out with no repeats; this was march style, with repeats, marked for flute and bells. Wild. But much of it was the same as the camp version I'd played c. 1989 and was put out by the same publisher and had the same typeface. The last song we did, the Sousa march Fairest of the Fair, is one I did both at camp and then the following year when I taught. It was a difficult piece to do at the end of a marathon concert; the oboe player was like, I can't feel my lips, and there are a lot of notes on the page! No kidding. There's a tough lick in there which has vexed me for about 15 years now; I can get it slowly, but I had a hard time getting it out at tempo. Usually it's the articulation, but the notes just weren't happening much of the time (it goes up to high Ab at its apex). Somehow I managed to pull most of it out at the concert, though I think I borked one instance of it. I'll take it, though. So, yeah, even though I didn't go to camp this year, camp still came to me. It'll come this week, too.
Finally, when I arrive for the concerts on Thursdays, rarely am I dressed in uniform. I'm typically in shorts since it's warm, and my summer work clothes usually involve tank tops layered under something else. I wouldn't say I'm dressed in a skimpy fashion, but I definitely show more skin than your average band member (who, mind you, is at least a generation older than me). Last week, as it was supposed to be a little cooler than normal (70s), I had on this light, long-sleeved button-front blue plaid shirt with a nude cami on underneath, plus shorts and I think my sandals. I spotted the director first, who commented something like, nice uniform, then said, that's not your uniform! I replied with a laugh, it is now! I took my stuff inside and passed by the percussion section leader, who then also commented, nice uniform! I then had to relay what had just happened with the director. So then the second chair flute walks in, and what does she say? Nice uniform! Okay, seriously, guys. You can stop now. When the bari sax player walked by, I was like, okay, what do you have to say? He at least gave a variation of things, but yeah. All right, fine, let me go change. (The oboe player gets it, too, but part of it is her truly eclectic style, and part of it is that she takes the train in and sometimes gets there more on the late side. She's cut it close a few times.)
Oh! Right. So, the oboe player wasn't feeling well at rehearsal. She seemed a little out of it and would stop playing periodically. I would find out on Thursday that her allergies were acting up and she'd taken a pill shortly before rehearsal, but it made her dizzy and/or lightheaded. The second assistant director did the Pirates tune, and we had a special guest. The person who requested it, I believe he's the bari sax player's grandson, who helps with the raffles, and he's a trombone player. He got to sit in with the band to play the medley, which is pretty cool. I think he's in about the seventh grade. So, anyway, we jumped around a bit for a few sections before running it from the top, which AD2 said began with the clarinets and the...oboe...who was not in her chair. AD2 asked me, was it something I said? I replied, I took a shower... heh. Well, AD2 went on without her, and the oboe player popped back in a few lines into the piece, holding two bottles of water from the fridge. I got her back into the music and the rest of the piece went on without a hitch for her. (The bassoons were another story--the lead bassoon was off entirely, and second chair, Amaryllis, couldn't make the rehearsal. Pirates had a big bassoon part that didn't go very well in rehearsal, and it wasn't that much better at the concert, but once they found their groove, it was okay. It just took a while and was a little hairy for a few measures.) Also, all the people whose songs got picked, they won a copy of the band book--including two members of the band, heh. They're the ones who requested Copland. This was all fine and dandy at the start, but toward the end, it was so dark out that we couldn't see the winners. One lady, sitting in the back, had a glowstick on her wrist but still had to wave a cellphone with the flashlight on so we could see her.
Yep, this was another piccolo concert, so I got to sit in the front row. I was super worried about this concert--I'm gonna die!--but once I'd practiced last Sunday, it actually wasn't so bad. Three of the songs didn't have separate piccolo parts, just flute, so that gave me a rest; and then most of the others were in a decent (not super-high) range, though I did have to worry about some intonation problems at times. We did an Elvis medley where I had to hold a high D for a while, and my eyebrows got a workout--when I'm trying to hold a pitch up so it doesn't go flat, I kind of stretch my face, including raising my eyebrows. Raise the eyebrows, raise the pitch. It's a legit technique. *nods sagely*
Back to last Wednesday, when I got to rehearsal, I went to freshen up. The paper towels in the one bathroom have been a problem for a few weeks now. The dispenser is battery-powered only; you can't push a lever to get the towels out. The battery clearly had been going, but the previous week seemed better somehow. Last week, though? Totally out. I had to wipe my hands on my pants. And it certainly wasn't that there weren't towels in the dispenser; I could see them, and it clearly was pretty full. Sigh. I found the director and had to wait for him to finish a conversation with the Eb clarinet player, then let him know the situation. He immediately got on the phone with the right people and said someone would be right over. Maybe a half-hour later, he gave me an update: There are towels again. Phew! But in the meantime, the Eb player's husband had come over to her and started wiping his hands on her shirt. We'd had a sub in the flute section and she had to explain how they were related and he wasn't just some random guy doing that, heh. Aha, I see you'd used the one bathroom. So, yeah, with the second flute section, I got bumped up and essentially was off second part; our one player with the health issues couldn't make it; and at the concert, the one kind of flaky lady who only shows up half the time, she showed up, but realized she'd forgotten her flute and couldn't play, and this was within 15 minutes of the concert so she didn't have time to go get it. (I'd *really* had to use the bathroom and discovered her in the nearby kitchen area swearing.) I'd looked over during the concert and she wasn't there; she must've just gone home. So, anyway, the section leader had gotten someone to cover for the sick player, and then next week someone else will be gone so the section leader's daughter-in-law will join us, along with the other sub. It's weird, in a way, and I feel mildly threatened by that since if we lose anyone out of the section, that means I'll have to share a stand with whomever comes in. I've gotten used to being last chair. My chair. (My precious!) Though it would mean I'd be the person on the left side of the stand, and that's the more comfortable chair for me.
Rehearsal ran LONG. Oy. I didn't leave until 9:45 last Wednesday. We're normally done about 9. Our opening song, at least to that point, was the march with the short piccolo duet at the beginning. Flute 6 was excited because not only would she get to play her new piccolo, she'd then get to put it away immediately. I keep complaining about how dumb this duet was--just five or so measures long, and we didn't change pitches. Snore. However, we played it plenty, because we ended up having to start the song a half-dozen times (and one time I wasn't entirely paying attention because we'd spent 20 minutes on it already, and I was zoning out, ready to move on...oops, I'm here!). The trombones come in after a few measures and kept botching their entrance, necessitating us playing it over and over again. Well, at least we got in our practice. And then, after all that? The director swapped out this march for one later in the program--and it was one where I had to play high notes almost immediately. I'd been really happy with the positioning of both marches; this now screwed things up. Boo. Boo, I say. But they were fine. The other picc player, she did briefly play picc on something else to sort of warm up for the duet, which was totally fine and understandable.
For some of the other songs we did, the Copland one ended up being the inferior version. I want the portrait, not the tribute. I'd thought this one (tribute) was what I'd done in college, but the version of "Hoedown" at the end was definitely not what I'd played before. Okay, well, at least I've cleared that up. I still can't believe there are two similar versions of the same medley out there. So frustrating. Especially since the other version is better. We also had a Pirates of the Caribbean medley that we've done before; it's not the one I'd done while I was teaching, but parts of that were similar too. I have weak, yet fond memories of working on the 12/8 time section with my students back then, so this was a happy thing for me, if wistful. We also did the theme from American Bandstand, which I'd done at camp back in my camper days, so that was another blast from the past. That is yet another song with multiple similar versions--the one from camp was concert style, written out with no repeats; this was march style, with repeats, marked for flute and bells. Wild. But much of it was the same as the camp version I'd played c. 1989 and was put out by the same publisher and had the same typeface. The last song we did, the Sousa march Fairest of the Fair, is one I did both at camp and then the following year when I taught. It was a difficult piece to do at the end of a marathon concert; the oboe player was like, I can't feel my lips, and there are a lot of notes on the page! No kidding. There's a tough lick in there which has vexed me for about 15 years now; I can get it slowly, but I had a hard time getting it out at tempo. Usually it's the articulation, but the notes just weren't happening much of the time (it goes up to high Ab at its apex). Somehow I managed to pull most of it out at the concert, though I think I borked one instance of it. I'll take it, though. So, yeah, even though I didn't go to camp this year, camp still came to me. It'll come this week, too.
Finally, when I arrive for the concerts on Thursdays, rarely am I dressed in uniform. I'm typically in shorts since it's warm, and my summer work clothes usually involve tank tops layered under something else. I wouldn't say I'm dressed in a skimpy fashion, but I definitely show more skin than your average band member (who, mind you, is at least a generation older than me). Last week, as it was supposed to be a little cooler than normal (70s), I had on this light, long-sleeved button-front blue plaid shirt with a nude cami on underneath, plus shorts and I think my sandals. I spotted the director first, who commented something like, nice uniform, then said, that's not your uniform! I replied with a laugh, it is now! I took my stuff inside and passed by the percussion section leader, who then also commented, nice uniform! I then had to relay what had just happened with the director. So then the second chair flute walks in, and what does she say? Nice uniform! Okay, seriously, guys. You can stop now. When the bari sax player walked by, I was like, okay, what do you have to say? He at least gave a variation of things, but yeah. All right, fine, let me go change. (The oboe player gets it, too, but part of it is her truly eclectic style, and part of it is that she takes the train in and sometimes gets there more on the late side. She's cut it close a few times.)
Oh! Right. So, the oboe player wasn't feeling well at rehearsal. She seemed a little out of it and would stop playing periodically. I would find out on Thursday that her allergies were acting up and she'd taken a pill shortly before rehearsal, but it made her dizzy and/or lightheaded. The second assistant director did the Pirates tune, and we had a special guest. The person who requested it, I believe he's the bari sax player's grandson, who helps with the raffles, and he's a trombone player. He got to sit in with the band to play the medley, which is pretty cool. I think he's in about the seventh grade. So, anyway, we jumped around a bit for a few sections before running it from the top, which AD2 said began with the clarinets and the...oboe...who was not in her chair. AD2 asked me, was it something I said? I replied, I took a shower... heh. Well, AD2 went on without her, and the oboe player popped back in a few lines into the piece, holding two bottles of water from the fridge. I got her back into the music and the rest of the piece went on without a hitch for her. (The bassoons were another story--the lead bassoon was off entirely, and second chair, Amaryllis, couldn't make the rehearsal. Pirates had a big bassoon part that didn't go very well in rehearsal, and it wasn't that much better at the concert, but once they found their groove, it was okay. It just took a while and was a little hairy for a few measures.) Also, all the people whose songs got picked, they won a copy of the band book--including two members of the band, heh. They're the ones who requested Copland. This was all fine and dandy at the start, but toward the end, it was so dark out that we couldn't see the winners. One lady, sitting in the back, had a glowstick on her wrist but still had to wave a cellphone with the flashlight on so we could see her.