(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 fifth.)
Well… I have to say; this last week has been hell. It was suppose to be the time of my most intense practicing. Right now it's the Thursday night before my Tuesday audition next week. I'm sitting in the same hard wood chair in the middle of the living room, facing the same music perched upon the black music stand. This time though, I have every light possible turned on and the living room is awash with light. I find this to be a much more uplifting environment for practicing than the dark and moody setting I used several weeks ago. But unfortunately, even though I might be sitting in a bright and uplifting environment, the setting inside me is dark and moody.
Because of a major obstacle encountered in my personal life, the practice plans for this very crucial week of preparation has been decimated. Feeling pressured to do more with less time; the practicing I did do seemed rushed and frantic. Last Friday, I was supposed to meet with a good friend who is a professional bass trombonist. That would have given me over a week to work on all the bass trombone tips and tricks he would have had for me. But the obstacle dropped onto my life the day before our planned meeting and it had to be rescheduled. Now I’m only going to get three days, instead of ten, to work on any suggestions he would of had for me.
As I sit a bit slumped in the chair, with my left hand loosely grasping the trombone as it sits on my knee, I am blankly starting at the music perched upon the music stand. In a way, I am thinking my trombone playing is actually worse now than a week ago. An uneasy feeling is starting to grip my insides as a chill is coursing up and down my body. The thought of hearing that "Thank You – Next" coming from behind the partition during my audition.
With this, I am reminded of how devastated writers say they are when they get a rejection letter from a publisher. Sure that's tough. But writers at least have recourse when they receive a rejection letter.
When a classical musician gets rejected; it is immediate, in person and in front of others. Standing all along on the stage; after hearing "Thank You, Next" spoken firmly by the judges – sometimes even while still playing – all the classical musician can do is put their instrument down, stand up straight with head high and self pride painfully low, turn around, politely give a forced smile to the audition monitor and exit the stage.
Writers get their rejection notice by way of a non-descript note sent in the mail and received in the privacy of their homes. Upon opening the letter and reading that they have been rejected; writers can raise their hand high giving the publisher the one fingered salute, then, take the rejection letter and wipe their ass with it. Like I said, writers have recourse.
And yes… I am speaking from personal experience in both cases.
Well… I have to say; this last week has been hell. It was suppose to be the time of my most intense practicing. Right now it's the Thursday night before my Tuesday audition next week. I'm sitting in the same hard wood chair in the middle of the living room, facing the same music perched upon the black music stand. This time though, I have every light possible turned on and the living room is awash with light. I find this to be a much more uplifting environment for practicing than the dark and moody setting I used several weeks ago. But unfortunately, even though I might be sitting in a bright and uplifting environment, the setting inside me is dark and moody.
Because of a major obstacle encountered in my personal life, the practice plans for this very crucial week of preparation has been decimated. Feeling pressured to do more with less time; the practicing I did do seemed rushed and frantic. Last Friday, I was supposed to meet with a good friend who is a professional bass trombonist. That would have given me over a week to work on all the bass trombone tips and tricks he would have had for me. But the obstacle dropped onto my life the day before our planned meeting and it had to be rescheduled. Now I’m only going to get three days, instead of ten, to work on any suggestions he would of had for me.
As I sit a bit slumped in the chair, with my left hand loosely grasping the trombone as it sits on my knee, I am blankly starting at the music perched upon the music stand. In a way, I am thinking my trombone playing is actually worse now than a week ago. An uneasy feeling is starting to grip my insides as a chill is coursing up and down my body. The thought of hearing that "Thank You – Next" coming from behind the partition during my audition.
With this, I am reminded of how devastated writers say they are when they get a rejection letter from a publisher. Sure that's tough. But writers at least have recourse when they receive a rejection letter.
When a classical musician gets rejected; it is immediate, in person and in front of others. Standing all along on the stage; after hearing "Thank You, Next" spoken firmly by the judges – sometimes even while still playing – all the classical musician can do is put their instrument down, stand up straight with head high and self pride painfully low, turn around, politely give a forced smile to the audition monitor and exit the stage.
Writers get their rejection notice by way of a non-descript note sent in the mail and received in the privacy of their homes. Upon opening the letter and reading that they have been rejected; writers can raise their hand high giving the publisher the one fingered salute, then, take the rejection letter and wipe their ass with it. Like I said, writers have recourse.
And yes… I am speaking from personal experience in both cases.
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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