(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra. During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time. This is the forth.)
Well… here it is, six days away from my audition, to the minute I might add (not that I'm counting) and I have already started my visualizations. You see, I have just returned from walking up to the front office. And on my way back my mind unexpectedly took me away to Jones Hall. As the office cubicles I was walking between faded in my mind eye, I looked down and could see my feet, dressed in my best Sunday shoes, striding across the stage of Jones Hall headed toward center stage.
Oh, I guess I should explain that I am at work right now. This time there is no black music stand in front of me with white sheet music blaring brightly - illuminated by the sharp white light of a lamp. No, this time I am looking at my works computer screen which has various work related windows opened on it. Tucked inconspicuously amongst them all is the word processing window I am now typing in.
With my back towards the entrance of my cube, I can give a quick glance to the rear view mirror attached to the top right corner on my monitor. If I see someone enter my cube, a quick flick of my wrist allows me to click on one of the work related windows which will completely cover this one. Yes… trying to be a real person having a rewarding personal life in the by-the-numbers, straight-laced corporate world can be a bit of a challenge at times - at least for an artist such as myself.
Visualization is a tool that I have found effective in my preparations for a lot of situations in life. But, I do have to say that it is not a cure all. You see, visualizing my feet walking on the stage before an audition has become a necessity for me because of something I experienced right before my first audition in Jones. And it didn’t even have anything to do with my trombone playing.
It was years back while standing just off stage that I was visualizing with all my might. In my minds eye I raised the trombone to my mouth, took a deep breath and began playing some of the most glorious sounds ever heard by man on this earth - on pitch, in tempo and with a musical flare that would have even made that grouchy ol’ green Grinch smile. But that's just the thing, all this visualizing was for after I walked out to center stage. In the particular situation I am remembering; it should have been the trip out to center stage receiving the focus of my visualizations. No pun intended.
For this particular audition, the stage was set for a concert later that night. The artistic minds that configure such things had come with the idea of setting each section of the orchestra on a riser of their own. This resulted in twenty or so, six feet by ten feet risers in varying heights, scattered about the stage - all painted white, so you would think seeing them wouldn't be a problem – right?
As the audition coordinator gave me the OK to proceed on to the stage I started weaving my way between the risers. Totally focused on the music, I came too close to the last one and inadvertently kicked it. Being caught by surprise I almost lost grip of my trombone as I stumbled out to center stage. I did recover and regained control. Although, I have to say the snickering of the stage monitor didn't help matters. That is one time I was glad the judges were behind a partition for the preliminary round.
If I had dropped my trombone, I am almost sure that immediately after the metal clanking noise of my trombone skidding across the stage was heard, the next sound would have been a dismayed "Thank You - Next" coming from behind the partition. I have found you can be forgiven missing a few notes, but dropping your trombone during an audition puts you on a whole different level of incompetence.
As you can see; how one enters the stage can set up the audiences perception of the rest of the performance. But believe me; leaving the stage can also present its very own set of pitfalls - as I found out in another audition several years later. And that time, the sound of metal clanking as it skid across the floor was heard.
This audition was for an extra/substitute player, so a full time position was not in the offering. Unfortunately, because of this I didn't put as much effort into my preparation as I should have. But, unknown to me at the time, this audition was to throw in a whole different kind of a twist.
Entering the stage door the afternoon of the audition, my mind was full of all the notes I was to play. As I approached the sign-in table a familiar female voice struck my ears, "Welcome, please sign in at the security window right behind you first." It was the same voice that called me on the phone a few weeks before to inform me of the time and date for my audition. An intriguingly lovely voice, I remembered wondering if I would get the chance to meet the person behind it. As I looked up, there she was… and she was a cutie I have to say.
If you haven't guessed, at that point all thoughts of the music I was to play had vanished from my mind. But, as I turned to the security window, the reality of the situation became clear once again. Mainly because the security guards name was Frank - as I derived form the name tag on his nicely starched, light blue security uniform shirt - and he wasn't nearly as cute. Although, he did have a friendly smile and was very helpful in showing me where to sign and date the sheet.
Being the professional that I am, from then on I was able to gather my wits, continue on with the rest of the sign in and proceed to the warm up room awaiting me. Yes… it was Cutie that led me to the room but I remained resolute in my focus.
Once in the warm up room, I found my lack of preparation starting to show. The trombone solo from Ravel's Bolero was the first excerpt to be played. I had been playing it for years and knew it backwards and forwards. Although, it is a particularly difficult one because the very first note is a high B flat… and in the warm up room that afternoon I couldn't hit it clearly to save my life. Panic started to set in and visions of San Antonio started to creep into my mind.
You see, San Antonio is where I participated in my very first audition for a major symphony orchestra. There, the same excerpt was up first. At that time, I planned on impressing the judges by walking out on stage and starting right out on the excerpt without playing any warm up notes. (Just so you know; I don't do that anymore.)
As I confidently walked out to center stage to begin the audition, my mind visualized a crystal clear note coming forth. Once in place I stopped, raised my trombone, took a big breath, blew through the horn and cracked that high B flat big time. I mean, I split it right down the middle. The worst part was hearing it echo off the rear wall of the hall right back at me. It sounded like someone had just kicked a chicken. I quickly gathered my composure, turned my head to the stage monitor and (since you can't talk during the audition) mouthed to her, "OK. I'm warmed up. I'll start playing now." She just nodded back with a "Yeah, right… chicken kicker" look on her face.
That vision started stoking my apprehension in the warm up room right before the extra/substitute audition to the point where breathing correctly became an issue. But I took several deep full breaths, focused and calmly took control of myself. Then I just visualized playing that high B flat - being sure not to repeat the San Antonio incident. After fifteen seconds or so of visualizing, I would pick up my horn and play the note once. Then repeating the visualization segment I would play the note again. Repeating this several more times, I regained control and was playing the high B flat consistently with the crystal clear clarity my mind was visualizing.
I have to say that I was pleased with my performance in that audition. Making it through the Bolero, I started to gain confidence. My excitement level rose after playing each excerpt and I started to enjoy myself. Although, I do believe the intense focus I was putting on just hitting the notes detracted from playing them musically. Thus, I wasn't offered the position. But then, I didn't kick any chickens either.
Upon finishing the last excerpt, my body was flush with adrenalin. I excitedly gathered my music from the stand and started to walk off the stage... and there she was. Standing just off stage, Cutie was ready to escort me back to the waiting area. A big grin was plastered across her face and in my delusional, self absorbed imagination I knew it was just for me and the way I had performed. But in reality I am sure her expression was the same for all the other trombonists after they auditioned.
Buy the time I reached her, my mouth was talking a mile a minute. I can't remember a word of it right now but she seemed interested at the time. With my hands moving over expressively, I forgot that I hadn't locked my slide and it slid right off the end of the trombone. The metal clanking sound of my trombone slide skidding across the floor reverberated throughout that back stage area.
As I hurried forward, chasing after my trombones slide, my mouth uttered, "Crap!!!" That's right… I cursed in front of the pretty lady. I think I hated that more than dropping my slide. But I figured what the hell; with this turn of events she already thinks I'm a moron.
So you see, no matter how important playing the music correctly is, all musical performances start off stage and end off stage. When using the very useful technique of visualizations, be sure not to cut yourself short and include the entire performance.
Oh No!!! I’d better go now, I think I hear my boss coming this way. Just remember; Visualize wisely… there is more to it than meets the eye - your mind's eye that is.
Well… here it is, six days away from my audition, to the minute I might add (not that I'm counting) and I have already started my visualizations. You see, I have just returned from walking up to the front office. And on my way back my mind unexpectedly took me away to Jones Hall. As the office cubicles I was walking between faded in my mind eye, I looked down and could see my feet, dressed in my best Sunday shoes, striding across the stage of Jones Hall headed toward center stage.
Oh, I guess I should explain that I am at work right now. This time there is no black music stand in front of me with white sheet music blaring brightly - illuminated by the sharp white light of a lamp. No, this time I am looking at my works computer screen which has various work related windows opened on it. Tucked inconspicuously amongst them all is the word processing window I am now typing in.
With my back towards the entrance of my cube, I can give a quick glance to the rear view mirror attached to the top right corner on my monitor. If I see someone enter my cube, a quick flick of my wrist allows me to click on one of the work related windows which will completely cover this one. Yes… trying to be a real person having a rewarding personal life in the by-the-numbers, straight-laced corporate world can be a bit of a challenge at times - at least for an artist such as myself.
Visualization is a tool that I have found effective in my preparations for a lot of situations in life. But, I do have to say that it is not a cure all. You see, visualizing my feet walking on the stage before an audition has become a necessity for me because of something I experienced right before my first audition in Jones. And it didn’t even have anything to do with my trombone playing.
It was years back while standing just off stage that I was visualizing with all my might. In my minds eye I raised the trombone to my mouth, took a deep breath and began playing some of the most glorious sounds ever heard by man on this earth - on pitch, in tempo and with a musical flare that would have even made that grouchy ol’ green Grinch smile. But that's just the thing, all this visualizing was for after I walked out to center stage. In the particular situation I am remembering; it should have been the trip out to center stage receiving the focus of my visualizations. No pun intended.
For this particular audition, the stage was set for a concert later that night. The artistic minds that configure such things had come with the idea of setting each section of the orchestra on a riser of their own. This resulted in twenty or so, six feet by ten feet risers in varying heights, scattered about the stage - all painted white, so you would think seeing them wouldn't be a problem – right?
As the audition coordinator gave me the OK to proceed on to the stage I started weaving my way between the risers. Totally focused on the music, I came too close to the last one and inadvertently kicked it. Being caught by surprise I almost lost grip of my trombone as I stumbled out to center stage. I did recover and regained control. Although, I have to say the snickering of the stage monitor didn't help matters. That is one time I was glad the judges were behind a partition for the preliminary round.
If I had dropped my trombone, I am almost sure that immediately after the metal clanking noise of my trombone skidding across the stage was heard, the next sound would have been a dismayed "Thank You - Next" coming from behind the partition. I have found you can be forgiven missing a few notes, but dropping your trombone during an audition puts you on a whole different level of incompetence.
As you can see; how one enters the stage can set up the audiences perception of the rest of the performance. But believe me; leaving the stage can also present its very own set of pitfalls - as I found out in another audition several years later. And that time, the sound of metal clanking as it skid across the floor was heard.
This audition was for an extra/substitute player, so a full time position was not in the offering. Unfortunately, because of this I didn't put as much effort into my preparation as I should have. But, unknown to me at the time, this audition was to throw in a whole different kind of a twist.
Entering the stage door the afternoon of the audition, my mind was full of all the notes I was to play. As I approached the sign-in table a familiar female voice struck my ears, "Welcome, please sign in at the security window right behind you first." It was the same voice that called me on the phone a few weeks before to inform me of the time and date for my audition. An intriguingly lovely voice, I remembered wondering if I would get the chance to meet the person behind it. As I looked up, there she was… and she was a cutie I have to say.
If you haven't guessed, at that point all thoughts of the music I was to play had vanished from my mind. But, as I turned to the security window, the reality of the situation became clear once again. Mainly because the security guards name was Frank - as I derived form the name tag on his nicely starched, light blue security uniform shirt - and he wasn't nearly as cute. Although, he did have a friendly smile and was very helpful in showing me where to sign and date the sheet.
Being the professional that I am, from then on I was able to gather my wits, continue on with the rest of the sign in and proceed to the warm up room awaiting me. Yes… it was Cutie that led me to the room but I remained resolute in my focus.
Once in the warm up room, I found my lack of preparation starting to show. The trombone solo from Ravel's Bolero was the first excerpt to be played. I had been playing it for years and knew it backwards and forwards. Although, it is a particularly difficult one because the very first note is a high B flat… and in the warm up room that afternoon I couldn't hit it clearly to save my life. Panic started to set in and visions of San Antonio started to creep into my mind.
You see, San Antonio is where I participated in my very first audition for a major symphony orchestra. There, the same excerpt was up first. At that time, I planned on impressing the judges by walking out on stage and starting right out on the excerpt without playing any warm up notes. (Just so you know; I don't do that anymore.)
As I confidently walked out to center stage to begin the audition, my mind visualized a crystal clear note coming forth. Once in place I stopped, raised my trombone, took a big breath, blew through the horn and cracked that high B flat big time. I mean, I split it right down the middle. The worst part was hearing it echo off the rear wall of the hall right back at me. It sounded like someone had just kicked a chicken. I quickly gathered my composure, turned my head to the stage monitor and (since you can't talk during the audition) mouthed to her, "OK. I'm warmed up. I'll start playing now." She just nodded back with a "Yeah, right… chicken kicker" look on her face.
That vision started stoking my apprehension in the warm up room right before the extra/substitute audition to the point where breathing correctly became an issue. But I took several deep full breaths, focused and calmly took control of myself. Then I just visualized playing that high B flat - being sure not to repeat the San Antonio incident. After fifteen seconds or so of visualizing, I would pick up my horn and play the note once. Then repeating the visualization segment I would play the note again. Repeating this several more times, I regained control and was playing the high B flat consistently with the crystal clear clarity my mind was visualizing.
I have to say that I was pleased with my performance in that audition. Making it through the Bolero, I started to gain confidence. My excitement level rose after playing each excerpt and I started to enjoy myself. Although, I do believe the intense focus I was putting on just hitting the notes detracted from playing them musically. Thus, I wasn't offered the position. But then, I didn't kick any chickens either.
Upon finishing the last excerpt, my body was flush with adrenalin. I excitedly gathered my music from the stand and started to walk off the stage... and there she was. Standing just off stage, Cutie was ready to escort me back to the waiting area. A big grin was plastered across her face and in my delusional, self absorbed imagination I knew it was just for me and the way I had performed. But in reality I am sure her expression was the same for all the other trombonists after they auditioned.
Buy the time I reached her, my mouth was talking a mile a minute. I can't remember a word of it right now but she seemed interested at the time. With my hands moving over expressively, I forgot that I hadn't locked my slide and it slid right off the end of the trombone. The metal clanking sound of my trombone slide skidding across the floor reverberated throughout that back stage area.
As I hurried forward, chasing after my trombones slide, my mouth uttered, "Crap!!!" That's right… I cursed in front of the pretty lady. I think I hated that more than dropping my slide. But I figured what the hell; with this turn of events she already thinks I'm a moron.
So you see, no matter how important playing the music correctly is, all musical performances start off stage and end off stage. When using the very useful technique of visualizations, be sure not to cut yourself short and include the entire performance.
Oh No!!! I’d better go now, I think I hear my boss coming this way. Just remember; Visualize wisely… there is more to it than meets the eye - your mind's eye that is.
Jim
Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb
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