"did you know that we live in a beautiful place?"

We were almost in the clouds. The sky had hurled itself against the mountains like a sea attacking a stony headland, and spent its cold energy in half an hour. The clouds were dissolving, yet the sky did not get any brighter, because the sun was going down. But Orolo with his cosmographer's eye had noted on the flank of a mountain a stretched patch that was brighter than the rest. When I first saw what he was pointing at, I guessed that hail had silvered the boughs of trees in some high vale. But as we watched, the color of it warmed. It broadened, brightened, and crept up the mountainside, setting fire to individual trees that had changed color early. It was a ray coming through a gap in the weather far to the west, levering up as the sun sank.

"That is the kind of beauty I was trying to get you to see," Orolo told me. "Nothing is more important than that you see and love the beauty that is right in front of you, or else you will have no defense against the ugliness that will hem you in and come at you in so many ways."

From Fraa Orolo, of all people, this was an astonishingly poetic and sentimental remark. I was so startled that it didn't occur to me to wonder what Orolo was referring to when he spoke of the ugliness.

At least my eyes were open, though, to what he wanted me to see. The light on the mountain became rich in hues of crimson, gold, peach, and salmon. Over the course of a few seconds it washed the walls and towers of the Millenarian math with a glow that if I were a Deolater I'd have called holy and pointed to as proof that there must be a god.

"Beauty pierces through like that ray through the clouds," Orolo continued. "Your eye is drawn to where it touches something that is capable of reflecting it. But your mind knows that the light does not originate from the mountains and the towers. Your mind knows that something is shining in from another world. Don't listen to those who say it's in the eye of the beholder."


from Anathem by Neil Stephenson

I don't really have anything to say right now... at least, nothing that ought to be said in public. So, I'm just going to leave this here.

go ahead, laugh at my folly

So I'm getting ready to take a lesson for the first time in forever. Allegedly I am, anyway. I've been saying it for a while, so it remains to be seen whether or not I actually manage to follow through. It's partly for help (that I desperately need), and partly a "please listen to me play and then call me for gigs" sort of setup. So, I kind of need to sound good. Kind of a lot.

So I'm prepping a list of excerpts to bring with me. It's not dissimilar to an audition, except that I get to choose the repertoire and the time. So what am I working on?

Tuba Mirum, Hungarian March, Bolero, Ride (all three excerpts), Rhenish, Ein Heldenleben, Mahler 3 (all three solos) and Organ Symphony (both excerpts). You know, the standards. And then I started thinking that maybe there should be a solo in there as well...

I don't know for sure, but I am starting to develop the slightest suspicion that I might be overreaching a bit. And by "overreaching" I actually mean "setting myself up for horrific miserable failure."

On the other hand, they're all standard repertoire, I've been practicing them for years (and years and years), and I should be able to play them all by now. And if I can't, then I don't have any business taking auditions until I can. Or doing much of anything else until I can. I certainly don't have any business seeking out gigs with professionals.

You know, maybe the lesson can wait a bit. Just until I figure out how to play the trombone, anyway.

this is going to get me in trouble, isn't it?

So, I've been struggling lately. Part of it was a sort of mental exhaustion after that most recent audition, and part of it stems from a sort of general discontent with the music world in general. I hadn't quite put my finger on it until a fairly recent concert.

This particular concert... yes, the technical aspects were lacking here and there,¹ but it was the first time in a long time that I actually felt like I was making music, with other people that cared. It moved, and was moving, and it brought me back, at least for a little while. I needed it, badly. I needed to know that I'm not a freak for feeling the way I do about what I do. It's hard for me to even talk about, because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for caring so much.²

It won't last, of course. I know better. I'll coast on it for a while, but eventually I'll be back where I started. It did, however, inspire me to dig up and finish the following sentiment.

...

So. Guys. Listen.

We can tell when you don't care.

True, not everyone in the audience can tell. I've seen many a lacklustre performance greeted with a gratuitous standing ovation.³ You can make the average audience pretty happy without really trying.

The rest of us, though? Your critics, your colleagues, your students? The people that actually know enough about music to tell good from bad? We can tell. Oh, boy, can we tell.

Every time I sit in the audience for that sort of performance, it makes it harder and harder for me to go to another concert. There are few things more depressing than listening to a group of musicians who have clearly given up; who have decided that they are fine and comfortable where they are and that they don't really need to keep reaching anymore.

It's not about the technical aspects, although those can be frustrating to listen to as well. There are less technically-accurate musicians that I would rather hear and that I would rather play with, just because I can clearly tell that they still enjoy what they are doing. Yes, the other flaws still kind of burn like fire, but at least I don't leave their concerts feeling depressed about my chosen career.⁴

Is this what's in store for me? Will I someday be doomed to this tepid musician's purgatory, only to make music with people who are willing to settle for "good enough"? How does that even happen, anyway? I thought we went into this field because it was what we loved, because it certainly wasn't for the money. When did being a part of the arts become so... complacent?

I mean, not caring isn't a crime. I'm not suggesting that everyone needs to care as much as I do, because I am well aware that it is not entirely healthy. You can't force yourself to be passionate about something. I understand, I really do. I know about bitterness and disillusionment as well.⁵ I just think you should be aware that there are a hundred or so musicians queueing up behind your chair, waiting for their chance, and some of them do care. Quite a bit.

And you're right, the audience can't tell past a certain point, which is why after that point we aren't really playing for the audience anymore. We're playing for each other. Not because the people who bought the tickets can tell the difference,⁶ but because we can, and because the music deserves it, and because it brings us joy. I mean, why are you doing this, if you don't enjoy it? Why would anyone do this to themselves if they didn't enjoy it? It's fucking hard, after all, and very rarely lucrative.

And if you are one of the few who have a job that most of us are still desperately hoping to achieve? And if you're bored with it? Fuck you. Go do something else then, and stop poisoning the only thing that I love.

...

Okay, fine. You know what? Fuck it. I am taking my trombone and I am moving to Madagascar.⁷ I will spend the rest of my days living in the trees, playing Bach cello suites for the lemurs, and they will bring me food.

Because lemurs are awesome, that's why.⁸

1. and I had more than my fair share of those[↩]


2. Honestly? There probably is. We work with what we have, though.[↩]


3. The standing ovation means nothing these days. Nothing. I've kind of stopped doing them because of it.[↩]


4. Just... annoyed and slightly contemptuous? Look, I didn't say it was fantastic, just preferable. Which should tell you a lot.[↩]


5. It's what my reputation is based off of, after all.[↩]


6. Although. Is it that they can't tell, or only that they don't realize that they can? Because even when they don't know the difference, they do react differently.[↩]


7. And maybe my laptop as well, except I don't know how I'll find electricity. Or the Internet.[↩]


8. Okay, maybe I can't actually train them to bring me food. Maybe I don't care.[↩]

no clever footnotes today, sorry

I have a genuine rant in the works. I started it while I was still irritated, and then life happened, and now I'm too frayed to finish it. I will, though, if I can work up the steam again.

I am awfully tired right now. There are many reasons for this. One of the bigger ones is that I just got back from the most recent trombone audition. The unofficial count? 125 people. For a 40K job. No one that I talked to could really believe it. We had expected about half that many. Had a few conversations with a few people who are, like me, getting tired of the audition circuit. Many have been doing it longer; some have already burned out once only to come back later. Some have been more successful at it than I have (in other words, they actually advance) and still feel worn down. At any rate, it reminded me of something.

I have now talked to a large number of musicians who, for one reason or another, quit pursuing music for a while only to start up again later. Maybe they gave up and quit playing entirely, or almost quit, or injured themselves somehow... or got themselves committed, perhaps? Whatever wall they hit, the basic story seems to be the same.

For a while there was a running joke between some of us that the reason I hadn't won a job yet was because I hadn't gone through the necessary steps of putting the trombone down and then picking it back up. Like it's a rite of passage, I suppose. Not everyone does it, obviously, but I was surprised at how prevalent it is. And for the most part, I have more in common with those who have than with those who haven't.

Then, of course, there are those who don't go back.

No, I'm not planning to quit playing the trombone. That particular path simply isn't an option to me, and in any case that's not how this game will play out.

I'm trying not to think about the other options, though. No matter how close some of them might currently appear.

...did I mention how tired I am right now?