Even When It's Awful, It's Wonderful
I've been on sabbatical for the past year, which among other things, has allowed me to play in not one, but two, community bands. Yes, these are the things that academics do on sabbatical. Rather than prepping lectures, I was squawking away in rehearsals in New Hampshire. Rather than grading student papers and fielding emails from panicked students, I was practicing. Every night. Okay, almost every night. It's been awful and wonderful at the same time.
It was just about four years ago that I was facing the fantastic opportunity of my first year away from teaching - a year-long fellowship at full salary. It's hard to beat that. Better than sabbatical, in fact. I don't even remember why, but I got the crazy notion to take up the oboe again, a topic that I covered in a previous post. With the exception of a 5 month period when I played in one of Neil's student groups in 2000 or 2001, I had been away from the oboe for 19 years. Count them...19 years. But, I decided to give it a go again, and I joined a local community band, the Seacoast Wind Ensemble.
I had no idea what transformations lie ahead of me. It was like being hit with a 2x4; like unknowingly opening a box of magic dust; like finding a room from my childhood that had been preserved and was waiting for me...and all I had to do was open the door. A wondrous, outrageous, and totally unexpected experience. Now, how often does that happen? I know. Almost never.
The truth is, I love community band, but I really dislike practicing. But, it's the price one pays for getting to play in the band. I'm not one of those players who can show up and get through rehearsal without putting in time in the practice room. I'm not big on sight-reading, my lip would never last more than 10 minutes, and I'm sure that my pitch would be worse than it is now. I know there are amateur players who can show up and do fine without putting in the time outside of rehearsal, but let's be clear, I'm not one of them. So, I practice and I consult the oboe teacher in the house and then practice some more. I almost hate it, but it's a lot better than showing up for rehearsal unprepared. Now, that is the pits!
Do you know what it's like when you go on vacation and everything in one's daily life is far, far away? Laundry, unpaid bills, the leaky shower, messy house, disagreements with colleagues, sitting in rush hour traffic, and the like? When one is on vacation, these things are distant, hazy and you wonder why they matter so much. You resolve to re-order and re-prioritize your life. You've been there, right? We have all been there. That's the way I feel when I'm at community band. Everything is distant - prepping classes, grading papers, committee work, negotiations with colleagues, frustrations with administrators, unwritten papers and book chapters, and on and on. I'm freed from my real life and the demands it imposes on me.
In short, it's wonderful. I realize that I'm bringing some rose-colored glasses to rehearsal and the description I'm writing here, because rarely is anything always wonderful. So, okay, it's not always wonderful. In fact, sometimes it can be awful. We're community players. We welcome musicians of all playing abilities. We have regular lives and we have not always found our way to the practice room. Sometimes we're out of sync with each other or with the conductor. Sometimes what we are playing isn't as interesting as we'd like it to be. Sometimes we don't count, can't count, or aren't paying attention. But, you know what? Somehow it's still wonderful. My sister recently asked me about a rehearsal and I said, "In truth, it was awful...but it was still great, because I was there...everyone was there...coming together for a common mission." That's because I like the community in community band as much as I like the band. She replied, "So, you were having your own fun, anyway!" I'm not blind to the fact that it can be awful, because sometimes it is. But, you know what? Even when it's awful, it's wonderful. And, that, my friends, is hard to beat.
It was just about four years ago that I was facing the fantastic opportunity of my first year away from teaching - a year-long fellowship at full salary. It's hard to beat that. Better than sabbatical, in fact. I don't even remember why, but I got the crazy notion to take up the oboe again, a topic that I covered in a previous post. With the exception of a 5 month period when I played in one of Neil's student groups in 2000 or 2001, I had been away from the oboe for 19 years. Count them...19 years. But, I decided to give it a go again, and I joined a local community band, the Seacoast Wind Ensemble.
I had no idea what transformations lie ahead of me. It was like being hit with a 2x4; like unknowingly opening a box of magic dust; like finding a room from my childhood that had been preserved and was waiting for me...and all I had to do was open the door. A wondrous, outrageous, and totally unexpected experience. Now, how often does that happen? I know. Almost never.
The truth is, I love community band, but I really dislike practicing. But, it's the price one pays for getting to play in the band. I'm not one of those players who can show up and get through rehearsal without putting in time in the practice room. I'm not big on sight-reading, my lip would never last more than 10 minutes, and I'm sure that my pitch would be worse than it is now. I know there are amateur players who can show up and do fine without putting in the time outside of rehearsal, but let's be clear, I'm not one of them. So, I practice and I consult the oboe teacher in the house and then practice some more. I almost hate it, but it's a lot better than showing up for rehearsal unprepared. Now, that is the pits!
Do you know what it's like when you go on vacation and everything in one's daily life is far, far away? Laundry, unpaid bills, the leaky shower, messy house, disagreements with colleagues, sitting in rush hour traffic, and the like? When one is on vacation, these things are distant, hazy and you wonder why they matter so much. You resolve to re-order and re-prioritize your life. You've been there, right? We have all been there. That's the way I feel when I'm at community band. Everything is distant - prepping classes, grading papers, committee work, negotiations with colleagues, frustrations with administrators, unwritten papers and book chapters, and on and on. I'm freed from my real life and the demands it imposes on me.
In short, it's wonderful. I realize that I'm bringing some rose-colored glasses to rehearsal and the description I'm writing here, because rarely is anything always wonderful. So, okay, it's not always wonderful. In fact, sometimes it can be awful. We're community players. We welcome musicians of all playing abilities. We have regular lives and we have not always found our way to the practice room. Sometimes we're out of sync with each other or with the conductor. Sometimes what we are playing isn't as interesting as we'd like it to be. Sometimes we don't count, can't count, or aren't paying attention. But, you know what? Somehow it's still wonderful. My sister recently asked me about a rehearsal and I said, "In truth, it was awful...but it was still great, because I was there...everyone was there...coming together for a common mission." That's because I like the community in community band as much as I like the band. She replied, "So, you were having your own fun, anyway!" I'm not blind to the fact that it can be awful, because sometimes it is. But, you know what? Even when it's awful, it's wonderful. And, that, my friends, is hard to beat.
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| Seacoast Wind Ensemble, performing at John Paul Jones birthday event in July 2012. |
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