Monday, October 15, 2007

• Life of a Musician

  Currently Listening Beer Barrel Polka By Kalendar Band Clarinet Polka see related

    Well, today, I will write my first xanga blog. Here is some background:

  I am a musician, not the rock star kind, or the kind that ever wants to be a rock star, although, that might be fun: I play the clarinet. That's right, the clarinet, the licorice stick, the agony stick, the pain stick, the black mamba (wait, is that really a name for it?). And no, I don't play like Benny Goodman. Playing the clarinet means I've lost the possibility to have 68% of the population as an audience, and not playing like Benny Goodman reduces another 15%. In any case, I am a classically trained musician who plays the clarinet and here is a story about my life hunting for a job:

  I moved back in with my parents in August after finishing my Master's Degree in Music Performance. It's not so bad because I am living in my parents guest house, so I don't have to deal with them reposessing that parental control, but I still get the benefit of home cooking. This year is supposed to be my chance to take auditions looking for a job so that I don't have to hear my parents say, "I told you you should have stuck with engineering." Since the only other thing to do as a musician is to get, yet another degree (a doctorate), I chose playing my hand at auditiong.

  So, while I am trying to make some money, I have been looking for as much work playing as possible, but have only landed two paying gigs. This weekend, I played on Mt. Lemmon at the Oktoberfest. Oktoberfest is fun and means lots of beer driking right? If you are really into it, you show up wearing your favorite lederhausen and dirndl and drink beer out of a fancy stien. Well, I wish that I had this dirndl, 

                                   SEXY DIRNDL

  unfortunately, the band provided the dirndl and therefore, it was a "one size fits all" kind of dirndl. I like to refer to it as the Fuck-Me-Not dress. You know, one of those, "I hope that I don't see anyone that I know outfits"? 
               NOT SO SEXY DIRNDL

  So I show up wearing my knee-length dirndl with knee high stockings and and start playing my clarinet, when all of the sudden, these clouds appear and the temperature drops 30 degrees. Our wonderful outside dance floor becomes deserted, but management requires us to finish the last two hours of our gig. So, frozen and uncomfortable with the coldest draft going up my dress, I press and finish the four hours of playing. It really doesn't seem worth it for $100.

  So that was gig number one. Gig number two is a little better as it doesn't involve any cheesy dance music, oh wait, it does. I get an email from the local symphony and they need a sub for their Music In the Schools educational outreach. The gig entails me showing up, sans rehearsal, to play five pieces that I hardly know with four people that I have never played with. Maybe it doesn't sound really difficult, but these people aren't just community musicians playing for fun, like in the Oktoberfest gig. They actually got degrees like me, but unlike me, they are good enough to have won jobs in a symphony. So I show up and start playing, not too badly - in fact, I played pretty well, including a Benny Goodman-esque solo where I tear it up! All is going well until the last piece, unfortunately, I totally blow the first entrance and get this fierce look from the flute player playing across from me. It was a look that said, "I can't believe that you call yourself a musician, and I can't believe that you get the honor of my presence," all looks came with a Russian accent. Keep in mind, that this is the first real mistake that I have made on music that I have played for the first time, and this guy has played all of this stuff for about a year or more. At first, I try to ignore the situation, because we get to play this program two more times today, but unfortunately, my psychotic brain, which dwells on things and takes things personally messes the same thing up the second time. At this point, I am freaking out a little because, in this cut-throat world of classical musicians, mess up once, it can be written off as a fluke, but mess up twice and you just suck, not to mention, you will not be called again.

  Fortunately, I have friends who help me through this kind of thing, so I make a call during the next break and feel a lot better about the situation. I can do this, and I WILL NOT mess up again. Yay, I didn't mess up the third time! In fact, I totally nailed the spot, but I messed up a different spot - oops! So, I might not get a call anyway, but at least I bettered my performance, right?

  End blog one.

  • 8:26 PM
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