Take that! Triple Concert Finish!

Because vague-but-not-actually-vague nerdy jokes are a super effective way to title these monthly updates!

...
...
...
HI.

So, the three biggest concerts of the term just finished up as of last weekend: solo recital, orchestra, and quintet recital. And y'know what... I'm okay with how each of them went. None of them were perfect, of course, and I can't say I truly feel that any of them were ideal, but... I can't say I'm disappointed in any of them. I'll give y'all a recap of what I actually thought. About me, I mean. Not saying anything about the other players, positive or negative, because I don't want to offend anyone, either directly, or indirectly by omitting for them what I praised someone else for.

First off, the recital. In order: Bach Cantata 51 (first movement), Arnold Quintet (first movement), Ewald Quintet no. 3 (third movement), Clarke Side Partners, and Horowitz Concerto, with Scheidt Galliard Battaglia as an encore. First thing I noticed is, I managed to draw a really nice crowd. It *might* have been the biggest crowd to a first-year grad recital this year, it was hard to tell with all the spotlights pointing at me. But I'm pretty sure I won out, in terms of attendees. Opening a show on picc is terrifying, and it took me a couple lines to get settled, but once I did (about halfway through the first A section), the rest kinda just went. It felt really natural, but part of that may have been because I was thinking more about the ensemble than what I was doing, myself. Maybe that's why I like playing in orchestras so much, if I let all my concern wash on to other people, I just play and my autopilot does a better job than I would have. The quintet stuff was a preview for our concert, and both of those went really well. The duet was also really well-received, as was the Scheidt, with the same trumpet player (it started with just us, and the quintet walked on stage before the first big tutti, making that opening super awesome).

As awesome as that recording is, I'm afraid that playing the Scheidt in the original mixolydian mode has forever ruined the major/ionian version for me. The lowered sevenths just sound so much... BETTER. Anyways, the Horovitz was the biggest piece, and I think it perfectly summed up the good (and bad) things about my playing. My articulate playing has improved significantly from where it was a year ago, but still isn't where I need it to be to be a competitive trumpet player. My sustained, lyrical playing still needs a LOT of work. And... endurance. Endurance is always a factor. The last page, before the couple bars off on the third-last line, was INCREDIBLY rough. I felt like I was throwing mostly airballs those last two lines of that section (so I guess fourth- and fifth-last of the page). But, y'know what, it's done, and the audience loved it.

Next was the orchestra concert. We opened with a Mozart mass thing that only had us in the first and last movements, and I played second. It was pretty brainless. Next, I was lead for the Bernstein Chichester Psalms, which was actually a really nice one to do. I was afraid it'd be hard, as there's a lot of high things, but Bernstein always sets you up so that you can't fail... meaning of course I missed the second concert C. Which I didn't miss in any of the rehearsals the week leading up to it. I hit the first one, but there was a scratch in it, so... I still have some work to do. The infamous last note might have been the best thing I did all show. Don't tell anyone, but the secret was... get a really soft mute, and let yourself play just a HAIR louder in the show than in the rehearsals, it'll sound gorgeous.

The second half was Pictures, and if you haven't watched that video yet, do it NOW. The first half is like a mini-documentary, and Solti's insights are really cool. The second half might be the best recording of that piece, like, period. I don't think I'll ever get over their sound in Great Gate, especially the syncopated chords leading up to the last melody.

How did I do? Well, I'm still yet to play the opening in a way I'm satisfied with. The first half of Schmuyle went really well, but the second was quite rough, and I had to drop a beat when it went up. Usually, if I absolutely need to drop a beat, it'd be the repeated C#s, but... life'll throw you curve balls sometimes, you just make do. Great Gate, with the exception of the third and fourth bars, felt really good. HOLY BACH THE FIRST BAR WAS LOUD. Like... we were totally planning on saving some so that the end would be louder than the beginning. We didn't. Communally didn't. It was kind of immature. It was very awesome. I enjoyed that.

And last, but definitely not least, and possibly the one I was more excited for than my solo recital, was the quintet concert. Ewald 3, Cousins, Largo al Factotum, West Side (arr. Gale), and Arnold. Holy Mahler, that was a long programme. I played first for Ewald, Largo, and Arnold, and the breaks were super-appreciated. And y'know what... we did a damn good job. The Ewald in particular went stellar. Cousins was (in my opinion) the best the soloists had done it. Largo was... much faster than me or the soloist wanted to go, but actually really solid, and we got a couple laughs out (he managed to sneak some of the Vaughan Williams into the cadenza, which caused the tuba prof to chuckle). West Side was hella fun, though it made me wish people clapped between movements, so many of them had really boisterous, huge endings. And... I could have played Arnold much worse. I DO have to realize that I put one of the most prolific quintet pieces ever written at the end (I REALLY didn't want to play anything after that), so considering that... which I shouldn't even be considering, because real musicians have to do that all the time. Gahh. Pieces like that make me feel so conflicted... do I feel proud for what I accomplished, because few other students here could have done the same? Or do I admit that, in a couple years, I'll be competing with people who totally could have finished it much better than I did, and I'll be expected to be able to do that as well, so I need to up my game? I don't know. The quintet as a whole did really well, though, and I think we showed the audience that we're pretty legit, for a bunch of brass students.

Oh, and I transcribed this for our encore. Actually.

L8er boiz!

Remember the days when this used to update more than once a month? Didn't think so.

Haiiiiiii.

It's been a while, but I suppose that's what grad school does to you. I've come to the realization that us musicians are clinically insane: we lock ourselves up alone in small rooms and repeat the same thing over and over, hoping for different results. Well, the smart ones don't repeat it exactly the same each time, but I'd like to think no one is 100% smart, because I feel like I have a chance that way.

It's almost high time, guys. My first-year recital is coming up in just over two weeks. On one hand, it's kind of nerve-racking. Though I've known all the tunes for a while, getting them together with the other players has been very last-minute. The worst offender by a mile is the Horovitz concerto, my big piece and highlight. I don't know if any of you have ever looked at the commercially available piano reduction, but it is literally unplayable. In that it is not a reduction, but merely every note of the orchestra score condensed into two lines, with no editing. There are moments with more notes than fingers in the human hand, moments with two contrapuntal lines in one hand almost two octaves apart, moments with a melody occurring in the same range as the chords accompanying it... it's a mess. Twenty-five gruelling hours of Finale later, I made a playable version, and the pianist I'm hiring to play it has been pretty solid in getting it ready. I just need to make sure I don't blink for the last two pages, or else we're sunk.

The last school orchestra concert featured Mendelssohn 5 and Capriccio Espagnol. The Mendelssohn is actually a really sweet piece, the outer movements in particular. I don't know what it is with Symphony no. 5s, but they usually seem to be right on the mark (Except Tchaik 5. It just seems so... overshadowed by 4 and 6). The Capriccio is one of those pieces I just keep loving. Like, I could listen to it on a loop for hours, it's so good. So campy, but so fun. Just... don't ask me about that cadenza. I had a long day... WHO CARES, NO EXCUSES. I've been pulling the "long day, stressful week, bad start to the morning" cards way too much recently, and I need to STOP IT. As I keep telling other people, and should really follow myself, the audience doesn't care what your day/week/life was like. The audience only cares if you can deliver. SO GO DELIVER ALREADY.

Being a musician is one of those funny things. I know for a fact that my playing now is the Vegeta to the Nappa that was my playing when I started this blog (what is it with those two popping up in here? Look out, I sense a running gag coming on), but little things are bugging me more and more. Obviously, the big things are annoying, but, as Yoda's pointed out to me on many an occasion, your ear will improve in big leaps, while your abilities have to progress at their slow, hopefully steady pace. So you start to hear more and more details, while your abilities aren't catching up at the same speed.

Because I'm insane, I've actually started to think about what I want to put on my recital next year. I was originally going to open with Ewazen's Fantasia for Seven Trumpets, but I've since scratched that in favour of his Sonata for Trumpet and Piano, and I think I'd like to open with Gabrieli's (I think I have this right) Sonata XX a 22. Yeah, you heard that right, 22 parts. Except I'd like to double specific parts such that (wait for it) the ENTIRE brass studio is involved. Then my baroque piece, which is still undecided, but it'd be nice to do the Leopold Mozart, or maybe that one Vivaldi violin piece that brass players seem to love doing. Hopefully I can get my same string players back. I've booked our kickass violist over a year in advance, and the cellist is being forced to play against her will if need be, so that's two of the five right there.

Other than that, I'd need a quintet piece, probably one more big solo work, and maybe time for a smaller solo or duet. Our quintet's thinking about Bozza for next year, so that's a possibility (I don't actually know how it goes, I should probably go listen to it). I've been toying with the idea of the Jacques Hetu Concerto, it'd be great for some Canadian content. And then just one more thing, possibly super-left field and modern. Oh dear Bach, do I really have this planned over a year in advance?

I have one more audition recording to do tomorrow... OH. This wouldn't have made the blog yet, since it was February. I had a moment, while recording the opening solo from Mahler 5 for a summer audition. I started to play, and as I began the first line, I just got this huge feeling of... understanding. Like, I GOT it. The piece made so much more sense than it ever had. Sadly, it wasn't a flawless run (cracked the first top line F#), but there was so much more vibrancy and emotion in the sound than I've ever heard myself produce before. My second take wasn't as enlightening as the first, but I can almost re-capture that same feeling now.

Jeez, I really do tend to ramble here. I'm gonna leave it at that for now, you don't need to hear me balk on for hours about things. Once April rolls around, I'll likely be posting more frequently, in that I'm a relatively anti-social person and don't do much when school's out, so it keeps me occupied. Until next time, peace out, and seriously go back and click on that Vivaldi video you skipped. I'm pretty sure "brass porn" is an appropriate label for that kind of performance. Until next time, fellow internetters!

International Hector Berlioz Awareness Day 2013!

(This is part of an ongoing series about Hector Berlioz. Catch up on all the Fantastique details here, here, and here!)

Hey folks! Sorry I've been so silent recently, it's been hella busy, and pretty stressful these past two weeks especially. I'll go into more detail next week, which is reading break. But for now...

INTERNATIONAL HECTOR BERLIOZ AWARENESS DAY IS UPON US!

Ah yes, today is the day we think about that special someone we all know. That someone for which we dearly yearn, but know we can never have. The someone who makes us feel happy in our melancholy, but is simply an idea, a concept of perfection. The someone whose face we see in a crowded ball. The someone whose laugh we hear in an empty, peaceful field. The someone who is the last thought we have before our hallucinated execution. And the someone who mocks us from the middle of a demonic orgy in the same hallucination, while an E-flat clarinetist plays the only solo that could ever hope to beat the first movement of Sacre du Printemps for "most obnoxious E-flat clarinet line ever." And in honour of this noble day, I present you... today's top twenty Hector Berlioz facts!


Hector Berlioz performed Steve Reich's Piano Phase on an elastic band wrapped around a tissue box. Both parts.

Hector Berlioz is the answer to Charles Ives' question.

Antonio Vivaldi has the second-largest output of any A-list composer because every sound Hector Berlioz ever made is considered part of his magnum opus.

Eric Whitacre refuses to refer to his compositional style as anything but "aspiring Berliozian."

Hector Berlioz once had a period where he was afraid his composition wasn't up to par, so he went by the pen name "Gustav Mahler."

Tchaikovsky is to melody what Hector Berlioz is to melody.

The Second Viennese School only existed because Arnold Schoenberg was fed up over how Hector Berlioz was the maximum attainable level of tonality.

Historical records show that the victor of every war in history is the side which had more performances of Symphonie Fantastique during the duration of the bout.

Hector Berlioz is your father. Actually.

Each string on Hector Berlioz's guitar is made of a strand of pure sound willed into solid form.

The ring in Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen was made out of a lock of Hector Berlioz's hair that happened to fall into the Rhine and solidify.

Camille Pleyel was cut from the final scene of Inferno because Dante was afraid of angering Hector Berlioz with the sight of the name.

Playing Un Bal while courting your significant other has a 200% success rate, in that both the target person and the second-on-the-list will instantly become infatuated with the performer.

Hector Berlioz rarely plays the flute anymore, due to the strain it puts on weather patterns to move an entire atmosphere's worth of air.

Chopin, Liszt, Sibelius, the Mighty Five, and other nationalist composers wrote in their country's style because it meant they wouldn't be compared to (and fail to match) Hector Berlioz.

Frederick Chopin once re-gifted a copy of Treatise on Instrumentation. That's really all I need to say.

The average person is 400% more likely to leave their significant other for someone named "Harriet Smithson" than someone with any other name.

If you play Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 backwards, it sounds like someone saying "Hector Berlioz ist der Übermensch" ad nauseum.

The Ronde du Sabbat has topped every positively-inclined top 10 list ever written, regardless of the requirements of being on the list.

And finally...

Felix Baumgartner's famous space dive failed to break the record distance of the last time Hector Berlioz fell in love.


Happy International Hector Berlioz Awareness Day, everyone!