The other blog is... well. Apparently we got spammed? We'll deal with it later. Not high priority these days.
So. Had a concert tonight. We did Symphonie fantastique... well, the last two movements.1 I am a little bitter about the excerpt in the fourth movement, but I'll get over it.2 I suspect it gave the fifth movement a slightly angrier edge.
It's a shame, because I really like Symphonie fantastique. I've been listening to it since high school, when my French teacher introduced me to it. She loved Berlioz and hated Wagner, which always amused me. Since then I have attempted to play it with orchestra twice,3 written a few papers on and around it, and have had to work up the major excerpts for a few auditions. I don't even bother counting the rests in rehearsal. I don't need to.
This particular performance was... interesting. All through the rehearsals I thought for sure I was playing ungodly loud... and yet, every time the brass would attempt to back off on the volume, the conductor would start taunting us. It was not the orchestral experience that I am accustomed to. I'm not complaining, exactly, just perplexed.4 And, of course, there were some interesting moments, as there always are. Some of them were surely mine.
All in all, it was okay. I got another stab at one of my favorite pieces, made some money, and advanced my education in orchestra politics a bit.5 The best part, however, was afterward. I was down in the dressing room, putting away my trombone, and I turned around to find that a large plastic bucket full of beer and ice had magically appeared behind me.
Needless to say, I lingered a bit. After all, I had to soften the sting from the fourth movement somehow.
Monday, October 5, 2009
i would be even more bitter, but i'm too distant and preoccupied right now
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