Transcript File

SYMPHONY AUDITIONS: WHERE ONLY THE
STRONG SURVIVE
It’s the morning of the audition, seven hours before you have to go. You know that this
audition will put you into a harsh, solo spotlight, and you must be prepared for
whatever musical “hoops” the audition committee sets before you. You have worked
long and hard for six years and the outcome of this audition will determine the rest of
your life. You practice quickly one last time, making sure that everything is absolutely
perfect. As you finish the last few notes of the concerto, you are convinced that you
everything sounds good enough. However, the piece wasn’t perfect.
Go lay down on the couch and watch Netflix
Although it didn’t sound perfect, you know that if you keep practicing, you will
get stressed out and it will be counterproductive. You decide to do what you do
best and go and watch Netflix. You lay down on the couch and turn on the TV.
You don’t care what you watch, you just want to relax. After a couple of
minutes, you begin to feel sleepy and your eyes grow heavy. You ignore it and
allow this sense of tiredness to take over your body. . .
Before you know it, you jerk up, glance at the clock, and begin to freak out. The
clock reads 4:23, a little less than an hour before your audition. You . . .
Grab your things quickly and rush out the door
Decide that it’s too late to go to the audition
You convince yourself that there is not enough time to drive
to the audition in time. A feeling of guilt overcomes your body
but you disregard it and go back to sleep. You’d much rather
go on with your day than deal with the stress of an audition.
...
2b1. You had six minutes to prove that you deserved a seat in the
orchestra. However, we regretfully inform you that you did not
make it. You either gave up or your nerves took over. Don't take it
harshly. You will just have to wait again until there is a new
opening, which may never happen again in your lifetime.
Wake up
You calm down and realize that, if you plan everything right, then you will get
there in time. You run upstairs, grab your instrument and your music and run
out the door. You turn on the ignition in your car and notice that the 'check
engine' light is on. You're in too much of a rush to care. Fifteen minutes later,
the engine starts to sputter and the car slows down to a stop. You have no choice
but to leave your car there. You grab your things and run the extra mile. Your
feet are burning and your back is aching, but you ignore the pain. This audition
is your top priority and nothing will get in the way of it. You soon approach the
symphony hall and enter the building in time. You are out of breath and your
heart is racing.
Sign in
You are fairly unsure of where to go, but you quickly spot the check-in table and sign in.
You go downstairs to the communal warm up area and take out your instrument. As you
take out your reeds and music, you realize that, while rushing, you forgot your water cup
for reeds. It's not the end of the world. You just have to make sure your reeds do not dry
out. You walk to the bathroom, wet your reeds, walk back to the lounge and begin to play
a few notes. Your tone sounds good but a few of the notes are being unresponsive. As you
play through one of the excerpts, the door opens and the proctor appears. She tells you
that it is time to go up to the Green Room.
Grab your things calmly and walk up to the Green Room.
You have a panic attack
The Green Room is the next step before the on-stage audition and that begins to
scare you. You anxiety starts to take over and you have a panic attack. The
proctor, as well as the other oboists try to calm you down. You convince yourself
that you are not in the right state of mind to do the audition. The others
continue to tell you that you are perfectly capable and to go upstairs.
Do not go upstairs and go home
Get over yourself
Your insecurities take over and you decide to not do the audition. The amount
of anxiety that you would have experienced on-stage would have been
overwhelming. It would not have been worth it. You gather your things, walk
upstairs, and walk out of the building in shame. As you drive home, you begin
to regret your decision. Oh well, it is too late and there is nothing you can do.
...
The on-stage audition is approaching and that scares you.
However, you have prepared for this moment and you feel
confident. You walk up the stairs and into the Green Room with a
smile on your face. Everything is going well so far, and you tell
yourself that you will make this audition.
Warm up in the Green Room
You are now in the Green Room and you have the entire room to yourself. You set your
music on the stand along with your tuner, wet your reed, and play a few notes to test the
acoustics. You sound amazing. You wonder how much time you have and your nerves
start to set in. Any moment now, that door will open and it will be time for you to
perform on the stage. The uncertainty scares you. You take a few deep breaths to slow
down your heartbeat and glance around the room. Behind you there is a piano and it
looks beautiful. It looks as though it's never been played. You are tempted to go over and
play a short piece just to see how it sounds.
Ignore your temptations and continue warming up.
Play a few notes on the piano
You set your instrument down and sit on the piano bench. You stare at the keys
wondering which piece you should play. You decide to play one of your favorites,
'Beethoven's Emperor Concerto.'
The moment your fingers touch the keys, everything comes out naturally and at ease.
This piano sounds as gorgeous as your instrument did. You zone out and let the music
take over. Before you know it, the door opens and the proctor tells you to leave the
building. She tells you that the piano is Symphony property and is not to be touched by
anyone not in the Symphony. You have broken the rules and are not allowed to audition.
You have a feeling of regret as you walk downstairs to grab your things. You walk out of
the building and drive home crying. Playing that piano was not worth it.
...
You decide that it's not a good idea to touch the piano, as it's not yours to play. You go back to
playing your excerpts. After what feels like 20 minutes, the door opens slowly and the proctor walks
in. It is now time. You put your things in your pocket and walk out the door with your instrument
and music. Before the proctor opens the door to the stage, she tells you what order the music should
be performed in and what scales should be played. D major and c# minor, the concerto and then the
excerpts. You take a deep breath and are thankful that the scales are so easy. You open the door to
the stage and are mesmerized by the beauty of the hall. Your anxiety slowly disappears and you love
the fact that you get the entire stage to yourself. You walk along the carpet to the stand, set your
things down and take another deep breath. You think about tuning one last time just to see how you
sound on-stage.
Leave your tuner in your pocket
Take out your tuner and tune
You want everything to be perfect so, just to be safe, you take out your tuner and
set it on your stand. The second you blow an A, the proctor runs over and tells
you to leave.
Confused, she tells you that having electronics on-stage will get you disqualified.
As you gather your things, you remember her mentioning earlier that tuners are
not to be used on-stage. You hate yourself for not being more cautious.
Everything was going so well and in a matter of seconds, it all ended.
...
As you reach for your pocket, you quickly remember that
electronics are not allowed on-stage. You put your hands back on
the instrument and blow a few notes to see how you sound. You
sound terrible. You take the reed out of your mouth, examine it
and notice that there is a split. Normally, you’d soak another reed,
but you remember that you forgot your water cup at home.
Have a panic attack
Continue playing on that reed
You start to freak out. You assume that it’s all over. You turn
around to look at the Proctor. She gives a look of confusion. You
walk over to her and tell her the situation. She runs out of the
room and in about 30 seconds, comes back with a cup of water.
You quickly plop a reed into the water, wait and take the reed out.
Continue playing
You stick your reed into your instrument and blow a couple of notes. You instantly fall in
love with your tone. You can hear yourself echo throughout the hall and it puts a smile
on your face. You turn around, look at the Proctor and she nods. You assume that that
means that you can now start the actual audition. The room suddenly feels very hot. You
can feel the stage lights beaming onto your skin. Balls of sweat trickle down your face.
Your hands feel clammy. You quickly wipe your hands on your pants and start taking
more deep breaths. You can feel your heartbeat increasing. You just want to get the
audition over with. You cannot believe that you’ve made it this far already. You take one
deep breath and play the first scale. Perfect. The next scale. It wasn’t perfectly even but
still pretty good. Alright. One third of the way there. That wasn’t so bad.
Continue . . .
You remember not to tense up, not to bite, and just to sing. You play the first measure of
the concerto and think to yourself, ‘play out, don’t be timid.’ Three minutes into the
concerto and you’re sweating profusely. The stage feels even hotter now. Your mouth
begins to ache on the high notes but you push through. As you play the last trill, you are
satisfied with how the concerto sounded. You messed up one note, but you are hoping
that you still have a chance. Now for the excerpts. The first one to be played is the second
movement of Tchaikovsky’s 4th symphony. You remind yourself to relax. As you
approach the second half of the solo, you decide not to breathe and to just continue in
one breath. You immediately regret that decision as you play the 2nd to last measure.
Continue . . .
You try to continue playing but your body does not allow it and you gasp for air.
However, that does not stop you. You continue playing and the notes sound beautiful.
One excerpt to go and you will be done with the audition. You start to worry, as this is
the fast excerpt and if you mess up one note, you are screwed. You play the first half.
Definitely acceptable. Now for the complicated part. This half of the excerpt is definitely
the more difficult one. You know that are you are perfectly capable of playing it through.
You play the first few notes and stop. Crap. It’s okay though. Not the end of the world.
You start the excerpt over and finish it this time. Not exactly in tempo but at least it’s
over. You grab your things, and leave the hall.
Three weeks later . . .
One day you come home from your dreadful job, and you see that you got some
mail from the symphony. You slide your finger along the envelope and tear it
open. You hold the letter against your chest and take a deep breath. You are
scared to look at what it says, but then realize that the decision has already been
made. Nothing you do now will change the outcome. After about five minutes,
you hold the letter in front of you and open it slowly.
"Dear Alessandra, we are pleased to tell you -" YES! You got the job.
Congratulations! You have survived an orchestra audition. Now be prepared for
one of the best and most stressful jobs of your life.
Two months later . . .
Two months later, you are driving to your first rehearsal and arrive early. You
are thankful that this time, your car did not break down. You get out of the car,
grab your instrument and get ready to cross the street.. It is a busy street and
many cars pass by. You look both ways. Clear. You take a few steps forward and
as you approach the yellow lines, your trip over the strap of your instrument
and fall forward onto your hand. You try to get up but your wrist is throbbing
and the pain is unbearable. You look to your left and see a truck speeding
towards you. You grab your instrument and hold it close to you as the truck
rams into you. You see the light. You have died. I'm sorry. You have failed.
Wake up
You have no other choice but to play on the split reed. You cringe
as you play each note, each worse than the previous one. It is an
indescribable sound, but a saxophone could easily sound better
than this. As you finish the last excerpt, you burst into tears. All
of that preparation for nothing. You will never get over this.
…
Everything turns black and you jerk up from your bed
breathing heavily and covered in sweat. It was only a nightmare.
You check your watch. 3:56. You have rehearsal in about eight
hours. You lay back down and roll over on your side. Everything
is going to be okay.