okay. i know i’ve over-saturated you all with my blatherings about recording. but i’m not done yet, so you’ll have to bear with me just one (maybe two) more posts. sorry, but it’s my life

monday (this one just passed) we met at the music hall for the piano rehearsal. what i wanted to say about that is that the poet who wrote the words to the piece Concordia flew in from California to be there for the recording. he and the composer are friends from high school. his name is Geoffrey Walker.

apparently they were both trumpet players (oh those trumpet players–they do have a certain personality about them, don’t they? i am generalizing) i was a bit surprised when i found out that mr. bass played the trumpet. i would have thought **gasp** drums or double bass or trombone. but trumpet? well. (i have nothing against trumpet players, my nephew, whom i adore, plays the trumpet)

–digression–

i have a little story about the trumpet. when i was in 4th grade and they were deciding who was going to play an instrument, i said i wanted to play the trumpet. i was told, of course, that i would not be playing trumpet, but i could play the flute or clarinet. my sister played the flute so i chose clarinet (which, in the end, i am more of a clarinetist anyway). the teacher asked me why i wanted to play the trumpet (i got the impression i wasn’t going to be allowed to do it because i was a girl–well, that was in the early 70’s so my impression probably wasn’t all that off the mark). i said “because you only have to know three notes.” lol. silly child.

back to recording.

so mr. walker came, i am assuming, to hear his work being recorded, to give support to his dear friend and to share in it together, and we had the opportunity to meet him and hear what he had to say about the piece.

i was interested mainly, not in the words to the piece, but in the process of how the two of them collaborated on it. i wondered about that, and i really should have asked mr. walker about it. i am too shy and inarticulate sometimes, when something matters to me, so i didn’t take that opportunity to talk to him about it. of course now i wish i had done so. ah well.

i mean, did they discuss the words and meanings in advance? was there music already laid out or were the words first? (for me, the words almost ALWAYS come first, then i set them to music). i think it must have been words first, because again, mr. bass seemed to have taken them and worked the music to fit them (and it was done seamlessly as in the other piece i talked about). this seems to be that process also, that has happened with the two men i collaborated with–who used my poetry and created music around it. how long did it take? did he change words to suit the music? all nosy questions, but always the things i like to hear about. it’s like reading about or hearing a writer speak about his process. i enjoy that. it makes me feel like a real artist, for some reason. it’s inspiring.

they both talked about how the piece was dedicated to their high school choral director and what a deep impression that man made on them and others. for men in their 50’s (which is young anyway), to still be talking about a high school teacher, is very impressive, in my opinion.

i still talk about my 9th grade wind ensemble director. he used to tease me during rehearsals, if there were any mistakes, he’d blame them on “the freshman.” i was the only freshman in the wind ensemble at that time, and 3rd chair. it caused a lot of consternation and many seniors and juniors challenged me. but they never won because at that time, it was the thing i loved most. and mr. goodman was a big part of that. he would tease in rehearsal and i’d get mad and say “i’ll show you, it’s not me that’s making the mistakes.” (my motivating factor–tell me i can’t do something and i’ll make sure i prove you wrong).

outside of rehearsals he let me do whatever i wanted. if i wanted to spend the whole day in the music wing practicing or playing the piano (i was not allowed to play the piano at home freely, which is still a source of conflict between my mother and me, if i bring it up) he would write passes for me all day. my teachers didn’t care, because i always had my work done and had good grades and didn’t cause any trouble in school. that year i got a perfect score on my all state audition on a grade six solo. i was 14. it was expected, i think, by everyone, that i would leave high school and go to music school. i thought so too. it just seemed the natural progression of things.

mr. goodman left the next year to take an administrative job at another district. i was heartbroken. seriously heartbroken (i think at some level, i am still heartbroken over it). the man who replaced him was very laid back, imprecise, and just couldn’t pull us together. the ensembles suffered. he had favorites and people who should have been first chair, etc. were not always in those positions. i know it was just high school, but it mattered. i try to remind myself of these things now when i am at work. teachers have such incredible power to influence in a positive way. and sometimes, sadly, negatively.

i spent my senior year being challenged by the same junior, every single week, for the first chair. it was so disheartening for me. i wasn’t playing the clarinet because i wanted to be FIRST. i played as much as i did, because it was meaningful and spiritual and sometimes i like to say now, because it saved me. it was in my heart. the way that new teacher let people basically harass one another for spots in the wind ensemble, was wrong, and detrimental. i was so sensitive, i couldn’t imagine what that kind of competition would do to me at the college level. i couldn’t take it. finally i just stopped practicing and basically let her have the chair, just so she would stop. she was ruining my year. when she finally got it, her father came right up to me (i was 17 years old) after the next concert and said to me something along the lines of “You finally lost!”

can you imagine a parent doing something like that? i will never ever forget that. what a cruel person. but at least he wasn’t my father. that seems crueler to have a father like that. my parents would never have acted that way.

i had auditions set up for some of the state colleges music schools, and even looked into eastman. i didn’t audition anywhere. i sometimes wonder if mr. goodman was still there, if any of that would have happened. i know you can’t wonder those things, because truthfully, if i had been meant to study music at a higher level, then i would have done so. no one would have stopped me.

but it has always hurt me at some level, really, until i joined the chorus. that has been the event that brought me back to music on the level that means something to me.

so when i write here on and on about it, you can see why it matters so much to me. this is my consolation.

as we know, i love love love what i do for a living. but sometimes i still wonder if i could have been a clarinetist.

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