Whew..
Our symphony concert last night ended a week filled with 15-hour days of work, yoga, and long, intense evening rehearsals. It was great playing all week, but it was certainly strenuous.
Our principal conductor was back for the week of rehearsals after being away at her impressive list of worldwide guest-conducting assignments. Before last week, I had only played principal oboe under her baton once, which was last October. Since then we've had our assistant conductor do all the concerts in between. Feeling more than a little nervous to play Brahms 1 with this conductor-extraordinaire, I came to the first rehearsal with much trepidation. Luckily that feeling passed as the week progressed and I was able to fully immerse myself in the music, enjoying the highly-concentrated rehearsals.
I was also excited to be able to use my new mini-disk recorder to record the rehearsals and hear how I sounded with the orchestra, as a learning tool. So I set up the mini-disk recorder and microphone on a stand in the audience after our personnel manager nicely offered to oversee the equipment during the rehearsal.
After the rehearsal, I was curious and impatient to hear how the recording had turned out, so I quickly retrieved the recorder and put my headphones on to listen. After pressing play, I waited, but there was no sound. How strange. Finally I heard something; it was the faint sound of a distant orchestra far in the background. The orchestra sounded as if it were miles away. Puzzled, I wondered if I had accidentally adjusted the settings wrong, or set the microphone on the wrong angle, but surely that wouldn't made such a difference. I strained to listen to the melodious, yet ever-so-soft strings, pushing the headphones closer to my ears. Just then, I jumped, pulling the headphones away from my ears as I heard myself, the oboe, come in very loud and clear just in time to play the solo in the 2nd movement.
Baffled, I let the other oboist and the personnel manager listen to the strange recording. We all laughed in amazement at the ability of this little machine to zero in on the solo instrument when the rest of the orchestra sounded like it was coming from another room, eons away. My oboist colleague marvelled at the fact the recording even picked up my breath before the solo. How was it possible? Unable to let the mystery go unsolved, once in the car, I put on the headphones again.
Then, I had it. I remembered recording myself at home, playing with an accompanying Brahms 1 CD recording. The volume of the CD I was playing along with had been relatively low, which accounted for the ever-so-distant-sounding orchestra. It was just pure coincidence that the material I had recorded at home happened to be the exact place where our personnel manager had started recording our live rehearsal, throwing us all off. The next night we all had a good laugh about it. While amused, I also felt moderately embarrassed for forgetting about the pre-recorded material and more so, perhaps, for leaving a dead battery in the microphone which meant for none of the rehearsal actually being recorded! Luckily, on the third try and with freshly charged batteries, I was able to record the dress rehearsal.
With the concert last night behind us, the orchestra won't meet again until next month for an all Beethoven event, with our principal conductor back once again to end the season series. I found out last week that there will be an official audition for the principal oboe chair next month as well. I have never officially auditioned for this position and am curious to see what the outcome will be, as well as if any other local oboists will try out.
After debating the pros and cons of staying here versus seriously considering the nanny option, I have come to the conclusion that if I win the job with this orchestra, it may be worth it to stay home for another year. With that, I could continue my day job, while gaining more experience as principal oboist. Not only that, but I have also made it to the sub-lists of South Dakota and Omaha symphonies.
If I tried to start over working as a nanny in some suburb of NYC, who knows what kind of orchestral playing I could find; if there were even any openings in small, project-based type ensembles, or even if the family routine would be conducive to me leaving for gigs once in awhile. As a nanny, I would also have to have an earning potential better than my current job (which isn't great, but a start) to make a move and a new beginning worthwhile. The current musical experience I am gaining here is priceless, but comes with the downside I've always resented about this area: a lack of city life and outdoor, nature possibilities.
This brings back the realization that I might live at home for another year (gasp). Certainly not what I would imagined a year ago, but then, when does life follow a predictable course? Encouraging has been meeting several musicians not much older than myself in the area who have all experienced the same thing I am going through right now: Student debt, day-jobs, and simply waiting for a musical opportunity to come up. All of them have found teaching and playing opportunities, but not without a little patience first.
And with that, I am off to enjoy one of the few warm spring days, meeting a friend for a bike ride. With the weather so fickle this year, even leaving us with a layer of snow this past week, I am ready to take advantage of the sunny, blue skies, sans white fluff...
Our principal conductor was back for the week of rehearsals after being away at her impressive list of worldwide guest-conducting assignments. Before last week, I had only played principal oboe under her baton once, which was last October. Since then we've had our assistant conductor do all the concerts in between. Feeling more than a little nervous to play Brahms 1 with this conductor-extraordinaire, I came to the first rehearsal with much trepidation. Luckily that feeling passed as the week progressed and I was able to fully immerse myself in the music, enjoying the highly-concentrated rehearsals.
I was also excited to be able to use my new mini-disk recorder to record the rehearsals and hear how I sounded with the orchestra, as a learning tool. So I set up the mini-disk recorder and microphone on a stand in the audience after our personnel manager nicely offered to oversee the equipment during the rehearsal.
After the rehearsal, I was curious and impatient to hear how the recording had turned out, so I quickly retrieved the recorder and put my headphones on to listen. After pressing play, I waited, but there was no sound. How strange. Finally I heard something; it was the faint sound of a distant orchestra far in the background. The orchestra sounded as if it were miles away. Puzzled, I wondered if I had accidentally adjusted the settings wrong, or set the microphone on the wrong angle, but surely that wouldn't made such a difference. I strained to listen to the melodious, yet ever-so-soft strings, pushing the headphones closer to my ears. Just then, I jumped, pulling the headphones away from my ears as I heard myself, the oboe, come in very loud and clear just in time to play the solo in the 2nd movement.
Baffled, I let the other oboist and the personnel manager listen to the strange recording. We all laughed in amazement at the ability of this little machine to zero in on the solo instrument when the rest of the orchestra sounded like it was coming from another room, eons away. My oboist colleague marvelled at the fact the recording even picked up my breath before the solo. How was it possible? Unable to let the mystery go unsolved, once in the car, I put on the headphones again.
Then, I had it. I remembered recording myself at home, playing with an accompanying Brahms 1 CD recording. The volume of the CD I was playing along with had been relatively low, which accounted for the ever-so-distant-sounding orchestra. It was just pure coincidence that the material I had recorded at home happened to be the exact place where our personnel manager had started recording our live rehearsal, throwing us all off. The next night we all had a good laugh about it. While amused, I also felt moderately embarrassed for forgetting about the pre-recorded material and more so, perhaps, for leaving a dead battery in the microphone which meant for none of the rehearsal actually being recorded! Luckily, on the third try and with freshly charged batteries, I was able to record the dress rehearsal.
With the concert last night behind us, the orchestra won't meet again until next month for an all Beethoven event, with our principal conductor back once again to end the season series. I found out last week that there will be an official audition for the principal oboe chair next month as well. I have never officially auditioned for this position and am curious to see what the outcome will be, as well as if any other local oboists will try out.
After debating the pros and cons of staying here versus seriously considering the nanny option, I have come to the conclusion that if I win the job with this orchestra, it may be worth it to stay home for another year. With that, I could continue my day job, while gaining more experience as principal oboist. Not only that, but I have also made it to the sub-lists of South Dakota and Omaha symphonies.
If I tried to start over working as a nanny in some suburb of NYC, who knows what kind of orchestral playing I could find; if there were even any openings in small, project-based type ensembles, or even if the family routine would be conducive to me leaving for gigs once in awhile. As a nanny, I would also have to have an earning potential better than my current job (which isn't great, but a start) to make a move and a new beginning worthwhile. The current musical experience I am gaining here is priceless, but comes with the downside I've always resented about this area: a lack of city life and outdoor, nature possibilities.
This brings back the realization that I might live at home for another year (gasp). Certainly not what I would imagined a year ago, but then, when does life follow a predictable course? Encouraging has been meeting several musicians not much older than myself in the area who have all experienced the same thing I am going through right now: Student debt, day-jobs, and simply waiting for a musical opportunity to come up. All of them have found teaching and playing opportunities, but not without a little patience first.
And with that, I am off to enjoy one of the few warm spring days, meeting a friend for a bike ride. With the weather so fickle this year, even leaving us with a layer of snow this past week, I am ready to take advantage of the sunny, blue skies, sans white fluff...
posted by Heidi at 1:26 PM
2 Comments:
That's really funny about your recording being the same thing as what you played in rehearsal. I have a great 4 minute video clip of one of your rehearsals in I.C.
Yeah, isn't that from my senior recital? I can't remember if I ever saw it...I think I did. I found out I can buy recordings from the concerts here, so that's good!
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