When I was in high school about 394 years ago, music was a huge part of my life. As in, between rehearsals, classes, lessons, etc., I would average 5 – 6 hours a day in an orchestra or choir-related activity.
Upon arriving to college and deciding to go for 2 degrees in 4 years, work and volunteer all at the same time (bad idea for maintaining sanity, BTW), there was hardly time to sleep, much less be involved in any sort of music group. To go from having music play such a significant role in my life to being more or less nonexistent was pretty terrible, to say the least. I needed an outlet but didn’t have enough time to devote to an orchestra, so I enrolled in a dance class instead – salsa!
Post UO, I moved to Austin for work and continued dancing, branching out to many other Latin dance styles including merengue, cha cha, samba and my current favorite, Bachata! It was something I still loved and also happened to be an easy social activity to attend alone, which worked out nicely for the girl who moved across the country to a city where she knew a grand total of 0 people. (:
While out last week, a friend took a short video of me dancing. In the 7ish years of dancing salsa, I had actually only seen 1 other video of me, so it was fun to watch and see what I was doing well and what needed a little (or a lot) of TLC. (: Slowly but surely, I’m making progress!
The 1st video is from the other night and the 2nd video is at one of my first salsa recitals – about 7 years ago!
Reintroducing an “official” element of music into my life was a goal I set this year. (official meaning something I could commit to, would need to practice for & included other musicians). Joining the ACO was part of plan, but because I was waiting for an opening, I was still on the prowl, you could say.
A few weeks into 2014, a chat window from my friend Brenna popped up on Facebook, asking if I’d be interested in joining her husband’s band. My curiosity was piqued, so after wrapping up travel season, I attended one of the band’s rehearsals.
Right off the bat, I enjoyed playing with the group (and I suppose it’s safe to say they enjoyed playing with me as well (;). We started off as 3, but soon after, joined forces with a few other musicians and evolved into a full-fledged jug band. I can’t say I’ve previously played with a group comprising guitars, a washtub bass, accordion, vocals, violin and the occasional fun assortment of castanets/shakers/spoons/etc., but the variety has been fun and our sound has been coming together nicely. (:
As a classically trained musician, I’ve also really enjoyed playing with the group as it’s provided me with the opportunity to peel myself away from sheet music (mostly) and work on fine-tuning my aural skills. While “reading the map” AKA using sheet music has its obvious benefits, it also lends itself to lessening the experience of the other senses…
…such as hearing
…which is kinda important for a musician.
I was once part of an orchestra where our conductor occasionally had us play in the dark. I think it’s safe to assume anyone walking by was at the very least perplexed, but the awareness gained by not having that visual distraction was pretty profound. During a few concerts, we weren’t allowed to bring our music to the stage, which, at the time was 100% terrifying, but in retrospect, I realize how much better we played (and sounded) during these concerts.
In additional to the technical stuff, the touchy/feely/myspace.com emo side of making music is also something I’ve really been enjoying. There’s something so special about playing with a group, whether we’re talking living room jam sesh or on-stage performance. It triggers a feeling I have a hard time putting into words… I suppose what I can say is that not much else can lead to such a profoundly euphoric sensation.
I love the feeling of calm that comes with playing – the relaxing energy that permeates through the group and/or crowd. Especially during a time when we’re all so hyper-connected – iPhone becoming 3rd limbs (and yes, I’m the first to plead guilty) – it’s so rewarding to experience the rejuvenation and energy that builds as the music begins: smart phones disappearing, smiles growing, toes tapping and people dancing. Not sure that’ll ever get old.
Anyway…back to the band…
It’s nearly impossible to summarize our style as it’s pretty eclectic, but if I had to describe it, I’d say we play a pretty eclectic mix comprising old-timey, Tex-Mex, string band, polka, & country.
Toward the end of last year, I attended Austin Civic Orchestra‘s concert. At the concert, there was a fundraiser – attendees could buy raffle tickets and the winners would get to sit on stage with the orchestra. Before the last song, the conductor drew five winning tickets. As the winners reached the stage, the conductor placed them, one by one, in seats throughout the orchestra – one surrounded by violins, another between brass players, etc.
“Hmm. Where is this going?” I thought.
After seating the winners, the conductor picked up the mic and said something to the following effect:
Most audience members never have the chance to experience what it feels like to play in an orchestra – to know what it feels like to be surrounded by sound, to be immersed with so much energy. It’s one thing to enjoy music from the audience, but to be on stage is an entirely different experience.
Upon hearing this, it seemed so obvious. Being on stage IS a completely different experience, but up until that point, I had never though about it from this perspective. It never even phased me.
The concert was fantastic – the ACO played a few pieces I’ve either played or am familiar with, which made my connection with the music that much stronger. I was not familiar with one of the pieces, but I ended up really enjoying it. Why? Because the composer, Iannaccone, was at the concert and had given a pre-concert talk about the impetus behind his piece. Context is huge and having the opportunity to hear the composer talk so passionately about his music was a real treat.
Joining the ACO is actually something I’ve had on my mind for a number of years, but for one reason or another, have never auditioned. After attending this concert and realizing (once again) how much of a positive effect classical music has on my life (and the lives of others), I realized I was missing out and quite honestly doing myself a disservice by not playing with an orchestra.
In December, I emailed the conductor about auditioning. I heard back and found out auditions would be in 10 days. As in, I had just 10 days to learn an entire piece. And not “learn a piece” in a half-ass-sight-read-through-it-a-handful-of-times type way, but in a ready-for-an-audition type of way.
My head immediately flooded with the following: “There’s no way you can prepare a piece in ten days. You should have contacted her sooner so you could have had more time to prepare. Are you kidding? Even if you had known, you would have procrastinated. This is what you get for waiting! Welp, don’t even bother…maybe you can get your act together next year and try out. Wasn’t meant to be. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah.”
Whoa. Hold the phone. Time for a little reality check.
In my quest for heightened self-awareness, I’ve become hyper-aware of how incredibly critical we can be of ourselves. And how unaware we are of it. I myself wasn’t aware until I begin reading up on the topic, such as this really interested article and this really interesting book. (which ironically, or maybe not so ironically, was a required read prior to being allowed to join Camerata.)
I guess the point is, if positive dialog can affect rice, I think it’s safe to assume it can have an effect on people as well.
After “holding the phone” and “getting real” with myself, the following transpired:
“YOU. GOT. THIS. You know you’re good enough and you’ll be ready. What’s the worst that can happen? You don’t get in. That’s it. THAT’S. IT. Instead of thinking of it as *only* 10 days, think of it as 10 WHOLE DAYS! 10 EVENINGS! You got this!!”
…so I replied to the conductor, letting her know I’d see her on the 14th. Signed, sealed, delivered, BOOM.
It was an intense 10 days as I was traveling for work during the majority of the time. The days were full of work and long drives and the late evenings full of focused hotel room practices, but it felt good. Really really good.
…mostly, I kept reminding myself to feel thankful that violins aren’t too difficult to carry on planes and grateful to not play the cello or bass.
I’ll be honest. I was SO NERVOUS at my first audition. You’d think that after having played 30,598,235 auditions over the years, I’d be ok with them, but alas…I’m not. While there are a number of factors that can be attributed to causing nerves, there is one factor that absolutely has a significant effect on me…
With something like an orchestra audition, you can put, say, 20 hours into a piece, but have just one shot, maybe 5 minutes, to prove yourself. That’s it. This is significantly different from, for example, developing a website. If I put 20 hours into developing a website, the outcome is consistent and the end result will, 99% of the time, reflect those 20 hours of “behind the scenes” work.
Basically, what I’m saying is that results of certain activities (auditions) are much higher crap shoots than others (web. dev.).
Those 10 days flew by and before I knew it, my audition was 15 minutes away and I was sitting in my car trying to get my focus on. My friend, Hilary, had sent me the following and I’ve always really liked it. I read it over a few times before getting out of my car, attempting to convince myself that it was true. (: It might sound silly, but I actually think it helped give me the confidence and focus I needed:
While I’m not outwardly competitive, I am, without a doubt, passively competitive. (Let’s make sure to not confuse this with “passive aggressive.” (:) I’ve always liked being the best, the fastest, the most accomplished. Call it overachiever status, call it a “typical” Jewish/first generation American mentality, or call it typical Kim Karalekas. (:
Growing up, my orchestra teacher/mentor, Mr. Nelson, always said: “If you’re here to win, you’re here for the wrong reason. However, if you’re going to compete, compete to win.” I’m not sure I was totally on board with this in high school (I think I just wanted to win), but as I’ve grown older, I’ve really taken his words to heart and try to live by them as best as I can.
I walked into the audition, tuned my violin and took a few deep breaths. Before playing the first note, the words “Play the sound you love to hear . . .” echoed through my head – another Mr. Nelson-ism.
I honestly don’t remember much of the audition. The first thing I can remember after finishing playing was the conductor saying she was pleased with my performance – intonation, pitch, tone, musicality, etc. – and asking me to prepare another piece and return for a second audition.
“Yay! She didn’t say no! She liked my playing!” …followed by “Wait…another audition?? FML.”
We decided on a new piece I was to prepare and I was on my way. As I was walking to my car, I felt a weird mix of emotions. I felt relief and accomplishment, but I also felt a sense of “here we go again.” Regardless, I told myself, “You’ve already made it this far, no turning back now.”
…I then proceeded to get insanely lost. What should have been a 25 minute drive evolved (or better – devolved) into an involuntary 1 1/2 hour tour de Austin. (:
I’ll spare you the play-by-play of my second audition as it was almost identical to the first: more work travel, lots of hotel room practice, lots of worrying and lots of trying to convince myself I was going to do an awesome job, followed by an audition I can’t remember.
The main different was that this time, I did not get lost on the way home.
The second audition was with an orchestral member. After I finished playing, he told me he would chat with the conductor and I would hear back in the next few days. GAH. Nerve wracking galore.
A few days later, an email from the conductor popped up. “OMG. Should I open it now? Should I wait? I wish I already knew what it said! Ahhhhhh!!” (Completely acceptable reaction for an adult, I think?)
I opened the email and found out…
I got in!!!
Man oh man…the anticipation! After reading the good word, I felt like a 20 pound brick had been lifted off my shoulders. A wave of emotion that honestly, I couldn’t even define, surged through my body. As I was attempting to process everything (slash, calm the eff down), this moment from Survivor popped into my head (Watch between 9:25 – 10:07):
In this clip, Marissa was fighting her way through a duel to remain in the game. The battle was intense and although she was ready to quit, she didn’t, ended up winning & remained in the game. Upon Jeff announcing her win, Gervase screamed, “THAT’S. WHY. WE. DON’T. QUIT.!!!”
…and all of a sudden, everything came full circle.
Over the past 6 months or so, I’ve spent a good deal of time in the South and the North South? Lower NE? Western Middle East? region of the states. There’s a certain charm found around here that can’t be found in other areas. I visited Tennessee for the first time in high school and was so impressed with the way of life out here. That was in Nashville. A few months back I went through Cumberland Gap and most recently Knoxville & Greeneville.
I’ve been listening to the song called “Wagon Wheel” quite a bit lately – a friend / fellow musician asked if I could play this with him, so I’ve been playing it quite a bit to get it into my head… Anyway, I love the song as it is…but it’s especially neat because the song mentioned in all these places I’ve been visiting / driving through lately (Cumberland Gap, Johnson City, Roanoke, etc.) Guess you could say it puts a metaphorical face to a name…but really…brings so much more meaning to the song now that I’ve experienced the places mentioned within…
Awhile back I mentioned enjoying the Austic music scene as I’ve had the opportunity to learn / make music in a whole different way than how I was trained.
Rather than learning by reading music that someone has already composed (i.e. what you see in the previous post!), here in Austin, I’ve put the sheet music aside and am working on playing by ear as well as collaborating with fellow musicians to create our own musical ventures. (;
Neither method is better nor worse, but I know that I have been growing tremendously as a musician down here, which is lovely.
So last night Eddie came over for a last time, as he is about to leave for grad. school. (of course, this is the year of goodbyes afterall! ]: ) ANYWAY, we wanted to get in one last jam and record a few tracks. Hence the rando. cords and mics all over my apt. in this video.
My mom sent me this video of my orchestra from back in 2007.
The group was made up of Sprague Camerata orchestra memebers, Camerata alum + some W. Salem students. We rehearsed 1x a week in Salem, so those of us attending UO would drive up together on Fridays for the 1 1/2 rehearsal and then head back down to Eugene where we lived. Yeah, of course we were tired each Friday afternoon that rolled around, but the benefits we got out of being part of this group made the commute more than worth it. (=
This video is of us, Salem String Academy, performing Bloch’s Concerto Grosso No. 1 for Orchestra + piano, right before we left for our Washington / Canada in 2007.
I will never forget these amazing orchestra memories, and hope that there are more to come, hopefully someday. I freaking miss this stuff.
I love going out to explore all the amazing things Austin has to offer. However, one of my all-time favorite things to do is to spend a night in, jamming. There’s something so calming / refreshing about busting out some music and not having to worry about anything else, at least temporarily.Here’s a small bit of a jam sesh I had with Eddie a few weeks back!
This video was shot during a show with Quiet Company at The Parish this past October. Do you see me? Here’s a hint. I can be found a handful of times throughout the video, probably for a grand total of 8 seconds. Really enjoyed playing with these guys. (:
This past week in Deb’s class, we were told to create a piece that defines us…
I have a hard time explaining two things:
#1. What planning/strategy is.
#2. How hugely orchestra/violin has influenced my overall process of thought and perspective.
With that said – I made this book to explain my cross-pollinationed thought process between strategic brand and orchestral planning. I used a piece by Tchaik. that I played with my orchestra a few years back.
Who knew that the most important life lessons and skills I have learned AND retained originated from my music education. It’s funny, or possibly more ironic that all the required speeches and presentations throughout middle and high school have had little to no influence on me. Well, unless I’m aiming to be completely unnatural and glued to 3 X 5 cards…The list of lessons I drafted is about a mile long, so I’ll periodically introduce the various categories.
Without further adieu, the lucky number 1 is appropriately: 1st impressions.
Regardless of anything – preparation, connections, experience, etc. – 1st impressions are powerful and permanent. In preparation for choir state competitions, we practiced for literally hours stage entrances and exits. We knew we began our performance the minute we put our robes on and even more so the minute we stepped foot on stage. We practiced countless times “walking on stage with a purpose” and of course with “yes!” faces. We knew the exact place on the riser to stand down to the inch to prevent awkward space adjusting and we knew down to the second how much time we had to get the entire 125 person choir on and off stage.
In anything…whether a meeting, phone call, email, or in our case a performance at a competition, anything out of the ordinary is a giant distraction. For choirs, this means any face-touching, stole-adjusting, movement, etc. Mr. C would hold up one finger and expect every last of the 250 eyes on that finger…if not, we wouldn’t continue until he had that focus. I can’t tell you how many times we practiced STANDING on stage for hours at 6:30 am, running through our pieces. Our director would stand back and at the sight of ANY distraction, would stop the song and make us start completely over – even if we had been up there for 20 minutes and were 3 measures from the end.
I didn’t realize how much I would incorporate a high school choir experience into my daily life; however, any time when I am trying to make a good first impression, give a speech, run a meeting, etc. the learnings from my high school choir have had an enormous influence on my behavior and habits.