kevgermany
ex Landrover Nut
- Messages
- 21,369
- Locality
- Just north of Munich
Last night was the annual Vorspiel (pupil's concert) for my music teacher. Decided to chance my arm with Midnight in the Naked City from Pete's playalong book, with a very simple verison of the solo from the Wrigley's ad in the middle instead of improvisation. Practiced like crazy, got it about right, but realised I was on the limit. Notified the teacher of the title - and he really didn't believe me, but let it ride. I kept the whole thing from him, as I've done in the past, so he really had no idea what I was about to play when I stood up.
These concerts are for music school pupils, mostly kids, and with a couple of adult pupils as well. And the audience is.... parents and grandparents and as this was targetted at the pupils liiving in and around our village, they all know who we are. No anonymity playing in front of strangers, so there's a little pressure there.
The kids went up, did their bit and sat down. All arranged in ascending order of ability and (probably because of my age) I was scheduled almost at the end, directly after a duet between my older son and the music teacher. The kids up till then had played well, and were well supported by the captive audience. My son then played a very creditable duet with the teacher. and was rightly well applauded.
Then up walks Dad with 2.5 years of lessons under his belt, thinking dangerously negative thoughts about the kids' talent and his own skills - and stupidity in tackling a piece that was tricky (at least the simplified solo bits). Well despite years of public speaking, and being a public speaking trainer, I pretty much psyched myself out of it before I started. I tred telling myself it was going to be good, and the young kid who'd opened on alto would see what a tenor could really do.... But I wasn't very convincing. And knew it.
So I set up, put the notes on the music stand, adjusted it as high as it'd go, made sure I had my music glasses on, made sure there was a peg on the notes to stop the paper folding over/falling off.. And listened to the usual chat from the teacher - this time about the tune being about the goings on in our village at night.... Laughs duly obtained he started to walk off, but then decided to read the notes to see what I was actually going to play (and guess whether I'd blow it or not). This just added to the nerves, as I really wanted to get it over and done with.
Silly me, I didn't realise just what was about to happen.
Well the first note came out fine - only it was a C, not an Eb - nerves were getting to me really well and my little finger was on the wrong key..... So I stopped, cursed under my breath (at least I hope it was under my breath) started again (the first pupil of the evening to have to do it....). And realised the music stand was set too low and I couldn't see the notes past the neck of the tenor. And there was the darned octave key bouncing up and down on the neck right in front of the notes.... I tried moving around (couldn't stop again...) trying to see the notes, but couldn't really get it right.
Then I realised the top of my head was burning. I'd had to set up between two very low hanging, hot lights, and in moving sideways to try and see the notes I'd moved under one of them. And it was HOT. My head was only about 6 " below it and really burning. Tried moving sideways away from it. And couldn't read the notes again, so it was a toss up between roasting and reading, but it was too late. I got so lost in the solo I couldn't bring it back - so I stopped again. Read and restarted. Eventually coming back to the header which I played from memory, trying to disguise a couple of flubs as variations. Cue very polite short applause. Hangs head in shame and walks off.
And afterwards, when there'd been a couple of superb accordian pieces to follow me, one lovely old lady came up to me and asked -"Was that Jazz you played?" I was still to dazed to be able to answer properly, but managed to say, "Yes, but it should be better". Still I think she liked the tune, Pete...
These concerts are for music school pupils, mostly kids, and with a couple of adult pupils as well. And the audience is.... parents and grandparents and as this was targetted at the pupils liiving in and around our village, they all know who we are. No anonymity playing in front of strangers, so there's a little pressure there.
The kids went up, did their bit and sat down. All arranged in ascending order of ability and (probably because of my age) I was scheduled almost at the end, directly after a duet between my older son and the music teacher. The kids up till then had played well, and were well supported by the captive audience. My son then played a very creditable duet with the teacher. and was rightly well applauded.
Then up walks Dad with 2.5 years of lessons under his belt, thinking dangerously negative thoughts about the kids' talent and his own skills - and stupidity in tackling a piece that was tricky (at least the simplified solo bits). Well despite years of public speaking, and being a public speaking trainer, I pretty much psyched myself out of it before I started. I tred telling myself it was going to be good, and the young kid who'd opened on alto would see what a tenor could really do.... But I wasn't very convincing. And knew it.
So I set up, put the notes on the music stand, adjusted it as high as it'd go, made sure I had my music glasses on, made sure there was a peg on the notes to stop the paper folding over/falling off.. And listened to the usual chat from the teacher - this time about the tune being about the goings on in our village at night.... Laughs duly obtained he started to walk off, but then decided to read the notes to see what I was actually going to play (and guess whether I'd blow it or not). This just added to the nerves, as I really wanted to get it over and done with.
Silly me, I didn't realise just what was about to happen.
Well the first note came out fine - only it was a C, not an Eb - nerves were getting to me really well and my little finger was on the wrong key..... So I stopped, cursed under my breath (at least I hope it was under my breath) started again (the first pupil of the evening to have to do it....). And realised the music stand was set too low and I couldn't see the notes past the neck of the tenor. And there was the darned octave key bouncing up and down on the neck right in front of the notes.... I tried moving around (couldn't stop again...) trying to see the notes, but couldn't really get it right.
Then I realised the top of my head was burning. I'd had to set up between two very low hanging, hot lights, and in moving sideways to try and see the notes I'd moved under one of them. And it was HOT. My head was only about 6 " below it and really burning. Tried moving sideways away from it. And couldn't read the notes again, so it was a toss up between roasting and reading, but it was too late. I got so lost in the solo I couldn't bring it back - so I stopped again. Read and restarted. Eventually coming back to the header which I played from memory, trying to disguise a couple of flubs as variations. Cue very polite short applause. Hangs head in shame and walks off.
And afterwards, when there'd been a couple of superb accordian pieces to follow me, one lovely old lady came up to me and asked -"Was that Jazz you played?" I was still to dazed to be able to answer properly, but managed to say, "Yes, but it should be better". Still I think she liked the tune, Pete...
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Reminds me when in the middle of a folk set the 5th string tuner on the banjo broke. I'm certain dying next time will be easier. 
