That was the title we grudgingly gave to our University concert band, and though this post isn't about them, it seemed like it was appropriate. I want to take a minute to rant about community ensembles, what I like about them, and what I don't like. I think that community ensembles as a whole are really great things, and I've played in a few of varying skill and organization. There's a few trends I've noticed for things that work, and things that don't.
There's your "elite" community ensembles, which I wasn't originally going to talk about, but I just got the idea to, like, while I was typing that previous paragraph, so I will. These are the ones that, while not by audition, are meant for small cliques of usually ex-semi-pro players. Things like quartets, quintets, and to an extent, brass bands fit into this category. These are usually alright, and the quality of playing is decent, but because most members are current or former semi-pro players, egotism and overprofessionalism is much more abundant in these than in other groups. But that's not really what I want to focus on.
There's your regular community groups, those that accept everyone, that are made of a mix of young students, university students with nothing better to do, music teachers, semi-pro musicians, on-call or volunteer professionals, and the majority demographic: people with jobs outside of music, who are looking for a way to keep up or dust off the instrument of their youth. These groups can be wonderful things, but there's a few guidelines that need to be followed to keep it working properly.
First off, there's the music that you actually play. For a while, I was erroneously under the impression that community bands shouldn't play hard music, until one of my best friends verbally smacked me upside the head, and I realized the error in how I was thinking. Community groups should strive for a balance, really, of poppy tunes, and "serious" music. For example, a group that I was in recently played a mix of Leroy Anderson and associates, and rounded it off with Prokofiev. It was an excellent programme, full of variety, and something for everyone in the audience, and the ensemble.
What is more a problem is the conductor's attitude towards the ensemble, the interaction between members of the ensemble, and the ratio of demographics between the above-mentioned groups of people. Having played in three different community groups recently, I'll list off what I've noticed works, and what doesn't.
When the conductor picks music, he or she does need to balance, as I said above. He or she should recognize when a piece of music is quite challenging, and programme it with lighter things to contrast. Now, don't shy away from hard music, as there's nothing that'll make the returning casual musician happier than to be playing "real" music in a "real" ensemble, so at least one big piece per concert is encouraged. But, the conductor must realize that he is not the "boss" in an employment sense, but in more of a mentor sense, like... for some reason, the first thing that pops to mind is an AA meeting. XD That's a terrible example. But hopefully the point is kind of there...? So the conductor has to be more of a friend.
That brings me to my most important point, as I can kind of clump the last two together. There has to be a good ensemble dynamic, and everyone there should try to get along. This, I've noticed, works best among the older crowd, and those who aren't in music full time. It's those that, as I said, want to dust off or keep up their instrument that get along best with the other members of the ensemble. That crowd will ideally be the brunt of your ensemble, with a few semi-pros, pros, teachers (who I consider in a different category, not as a prejudice, but just because they have a different role in the overall musical community), and advanced students to round out the sections. This interactivity I find to be less present in largely student ensembles, as students are more likely to separate off into smaller groups of tighter-knit friends. Perhaps it's just something that happens when you get older, I wouldn't know.
The community orchestra I'm playing with now, we're doing Brahms 4 for our final concert, and it's a HUGE undertaking. There are parts of the way it's run that I'm alright with, but parts that I'm not terribly fond of. I probably won't be playing the next season, but it's the only group still running this far into summer, so I'll take what I can get.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
There's a little too much Mahler in your Brahms.
So, we have a fellow who came back to the city last year that plays bass trombone I've had the chance to talk to a few times. He's been slowly making a name for himself in the music community around here, his forte being conducting wind ensembles. I'm always iffy about people I haven't heard play, but he seems to have a solid history. He's the kind of person who, though he tries to be nice, feels like he must be honest with everyone he teaches, and this means when they need to work to pull something together, he tells them that they will legitimately need to work, and I respect that.
We started talking about my plans for the next year (NEXT next year, the 2012 school year, when I'll be hopefully starting a Masters of Music in performance), and how I'm still taking lessons, and playing in as many groups as I can next year (everything I can possibly do to make sure I don't stray from my planned path in the year I won't be a student). He then gave me a short motivational speech, something that he gives to all people he sees potential in, but something I felt the need to pass on. It's simple, but it worked for me.
It's quite simply this... don't hold back. Ever. For a lot of people, they'll go to a local school because it's easier, not because it's something they want to go to, given the option without consequence. I did that, but was lucky enough to have gotten a solid education with a great teacher. But when it comes to my masters, I need to leave town, and leave province. All he told me was, don't settle for anything less than what you want. Don't turn away from trying just because there are better people. Because there will always be better people. It's not being the best, it's being good enough to get the jobs that require best-like abilities (after all, they can't have the top three trumpet players in the world sitting principal of EVERY orchestra at the same time). There's no reason to not bother trying. What's the worst that could happen? You end up doing what you would have anyways. There's literally no downside.
This may have been kind of useless to some of you, but for some reason, it really hit me, so I felt I'd share. If you're unimpressed, here's something that should work, in some form at least. :P
We started talking about my plans for the next year (NEXT next year, the 2012 school year, when I'll be hopefully starting a Masters of Music in performance), and how I'm still taking lessons, and playing in as many groups as I can next year (everything I can possibly do to make sure I don't stray from my planned path in the year I won't be a student). He then gave me a short motivational speech, something that he gives to all people he sees potential in, but something I felt the need to pass on. It's simple, but it worked for me.
It's quite simply this... don't hold back. Ever. For a lot of people, they'll go to a local school because it's easier, not because it's something they want to go to, given the option without consequence. I did that, but was lucky enough to have gotten a solid education with a great teacher. But when it comes to my masters, I need to leave town, and leave province. All he told me was, don't settle for anything less than what you want. Don't turn away from trying just because there are better people. Because there will always be better people. It's not being the best, it's being good enough to get the jobs that require best-like abilities (after all, they can't have the top three trumpet players in the world sitting principal of EVERY orchestra at the same time). There's no reason to not bother trying. What's the worst that could happen? You end up doing what you would have anyways. There's literally no downside.
This may have been kind of useless to some of you, but for some reason, it really hit me, so I felt I'd share. If you're unimpressed, here's something that should work, in some form at least. :P
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Don't we all love a good origin story!
So, internet, here's a good one (or, at least, I HOPE it ends up being a good one). This is one of the updates I've been planning since before day one. Now, folks of the internet, I give you... my origin story! This is about me, playing the trumpet, and the trials and tribulations getting to where I am today (and I'm not done yet, but you'll be getting the updates to the story as they happen).
Nothing interesting really happened BEFORE university, but I'll detail that anyways. I first got into music via piano lessons, after a Christmas where I was fooling around with my cousin's newly-acquired electric piano, and my dad noticed how much I like it. I guess, to some degree, it's him that really got me into music, who'da thunk? So I took piano starting at age 7, and three years later, decided to get into the band program at school. My original choices were trombone and tenor sax, but after playing the trumpet when we got to demo all the instruments, I liked the feel of it better than bone. I still to this day feel like I picked up the instrument on a whim, and am sometimes stunned to see how much it took over my life.
So, I didn't do much playing outside of school band though my entire elementary and junior high career. In high school, I dropped concert band entirely, playing only in jazz band and our annual musicals. Choosing to go into music professionally also feels to me like I chose it at a whim, and there were times when I thought "What if I don't like it" and "what if I'm not good enough?"
I started taking lessons in grade ten, with a jazz trumpeter and composer in the area. I got the vibe from him, when I mentioned I was auditioning for university, that he didn't think I was ready, but after much self-doubt, I went ahead with it. And somehow, I got in.
Then, that's when things really started taking off. I remember my first performance class there, the other freshman trumpet player (we're a small school, having more than one entrant in one year for trumpet was pretty rare) played an arrangement of Ravel's Pavane. I realized listening to him... I was not good enough. Not nearly. That's when I made a vow to myself: by the end of my fourth year, I would match him. We would be equals by then. And, of course, music is subjective, and different people place greater value on different aspects. But I would like to think that I met my goal.
My professor, who I constantly tell people I owe every penny of my career to that man, noticed early on in our lessons that my mouthpiece was in an odd place. I can't believe I was even making a sound like that, as when I go back to demonstrate to people how I used to play, I can't break the treble clef. A normal trumpet embouchure should be half upper lip, half lower lip, and if it's skewed at all, upper is favourable. I had about a fifth upper lip, and four fifths lower. That's BAD. Bad to the point that I failed my first-year jury, and knew I wouldn't have what it took to be a performance major, so I went into musicology.
That summer, I decided I had to do something about that. I worked my ASS off, and by the end of it, had my mouthpiece where I needed it. As I started the next year, another trumpet student from my high school had started as a freshman, so I decided my first performance had to be to show him how much I had improved. It wasn't NEARLY perfect, and I still had that rough, untamed sound, but it was at least a 300% improvement from when he had heard me last (which isn't as impressive as it sounds >.>).
It wasn't until the end of my second year, into the start of my third, that me and the other trumpet in my year really started talking. On the inside, I always wonder if there was a skill threshold I had to pass in his mind for him to consider me worth it, but I try not to think about it too much. That's something I think about a lot, of the music community as a whole, but will be the topic of later discussion.
Into my third year, I decided to be ambitious and embark on a serious undertaking: my first private solo recital. It would be just over an hour of me and me alone, including the Arutunian as my finale, and the third (and "fourth") movement of Hindemith. Sadly, that was also around the time I hit a slump, and the recital went nowhere NEAR as well as I felt it should have, even now.
Thankfully, the slump ended that summer. Sometimes I wonder if I only ever improve over summers, plateau during the school year, and then jump up again the next summer. That year, I did the one thing I wish I had done ages ago: joined our region's youth orchestra. That experience was the best thing for me I could have imagined.
I had another recital in my fourth year, this one split 50/50 with an amazing friend of mine who plays clarinet. And this one went pretty awesome, even though we had a MASSIVE logistic scare the day of (I might write about that later, it really inspired me to see so many people coming together to make something work, literally half an hour before a concert, WITH NO VENUE). I played the Halsey Stevens as the finale (it was my signature piece of that year... I find I have pieces that signify each year, and that was it), and NAILED the ending (there was an arrival note that spoke noticeably late in the recording, but I was proud of myself regardless, considering how the previous year's recital had gone).
And that brings me to now. I'm still taking lessons, and I'll be auditioning around North America for a grad program, taking Performance this time, as I feel I might just be ready. I'm still playing in the youth orchestra, as I found out recently, so this is looking like it'll be an awesome year. We'll just see what it has in store.
Nothing interesting really happened BEFORE university, but I'll detail that anyways. I first got into music via piano lessons, after a Christmas where I was fooling around with my cousin's newly-acquired electric piano, and my dad noticed how much I like it. I guess, to some degree, it's him that really got me into music, who'da thunk? So I took piano starting at age 7, and three years later, decided to get into the band program at school. My original choices were trombone and tenor sax, but after playing the trumpet when we got to demo all the instruments, I liked the feel of it better than bone. I still to this day feel like I picked up the instrument on a whim, and am sometimes stunned to see how much it took over my life.
So, I didn't do much playing outside of school band though my entire elementary and junior high career. In high school, I dropped concert band entirely, playing only in jazz band and our annual musicals. Choosing to go into music professionally also feels to me like I chose it at a whim, and there were times when I thought "What if I don't like it" and "what if I'm not good enough?"
I started taking lessons in grade ten, with a jazz trumpeter and composer in the area. I got the vibe from him, when I mentioned I was auditioning for university, that he didn't think I was ready, but after much self-doubt, I went ahead with it. And somehow, I got in.
Then, that's when things really started taking off. I remember my first performance class there, the other freshman trumpet player (we're a small school, having more than one entrant in one year for trumpet was pretty rare) played an arrangement of Ravel's Pavane. I realized listening to him... I was not good enough. Not nearly. That's when I made a vow to myself: by the end of my fourth year, I would match him. We would be equals by then. And, of course, music is subjective, and different people place greater value on different aspects. But I would like to think that I met my goal.
My professor, who I constantly tell people I owe every penny of my career to that man, noticed early on in our lessons that my mouthpiece was in an odd place. I can't believe I was even making a sound like that, as when I go back to demonstrate to people how I used to play, I can't break the treble clef. A normal trumpet embouchure should be half upper lip, half lower lip, and if it's skewed at all, upper is favourable. I had about a fifth upper lip, and four fifths lower. That's BAD. Bad to the point that I failed my first-year jury, and knew I wouldn't have what it took to be a performance major, so I went into musicology.
That summer, I decided I had to do something about that. I worked my ASS off, and by the end of it, had my mouthpiece where I needed it. As I started the next year, another trumpet student from my high school had started as a freshman, so I decided my first performance had to be to show him how much I had improved. It wasn't NEARLY perfect, and I still had that rough, untamed sound, but it was at least a 300% improvement from when he had heard me last (which isn't as impressive as it sounds >.>).
It wasn't until the end of my second year, into the start of my third, that me and the other trumpet in my year really started talking. On the inside, I always wonder if there was a skill threshold I had to pass in his mind for him to consider me worth it, but I try not to think about it too much. That's something I think about a lot, of the music community as a whole, but will be the topic of later discussion.
Into my third year, I decided to be ambitious and embark on a serious undertaking: my first private solo recital. It would be just over an hour of me and me alone, including the Arutunian as my finale, and the third (and "fourth") movement of Hindemith. Sadly, that was also around the time I hit a slump, and the recital went nowhere NEAR as well as I felt it should have, even now.
Thankfully, the slump ended that summer. Sometimes I wonder if I only ever improve over summers, plateau during the school year, and then jump up again the next summer. That year, I did the one thing I wish I had done ages ago: joined our region's youth orchestra. That experience was the best thing for me I could have imagined.
I had another recital in my fourth year, this one split 50/50 with an amazing friend of mine who plays clarinet. And this one went pretty awesome, even though we had a MASSIVE logistic scare the day of (I might write about that later, it really inspired me to see so many people coming together to make something work, literally half an hour before a concert, WITH NO VENUE). I played the Halsey Stevens as the finale (it was my signature piece of that year... I find I have pieces that signify each year, and that was it), and NAILED the ending (there was an arrival note that spoke noticeably late in the recording, but I was proud of myself regardless, considering how the previous year's recital had gone).
And that brings me to now. I'm still taking lessons, and I'll be auditioning around North America for a grad program, taking Performance this time, as I feel I might just be ready. I'm still playing in the youth orchestra, as I found out recently, so this is looking like it'll be an awesome year. We'll just see what it has in store.
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