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subtlegreyInstead of NaNoWriMo, I'm going to aim for a short essay every day on a topic I feel like yammering about.
This afternoon, I performed a short alto flute solo at a recital for adult students at the Village Music Academy. Mostly flute and piano students, 2 pieces were guitar groups. It was a very healing, comforting experience. I didn't know what to expect, and that wasn't it.
At the beginning, one of the instructors thanked all adult students for being there. He pointed out that playing an instrument takes time, discipline, and is especially challenging for adults (as compared to students). The affair was very informal, not even a program (partially because they weren't sure who would be participating - hazards of adult students!). His words kind of hit me hard in the feels. I'm incredibly hard on myself for not practicing more, not being better, and in that moment I felt supported, validated, and appreciated in a way I might be able to keep in mind going forward.
A good mix of ability levels were represented. An older gentleman (50s or 60s) who had just started playing piano, for example). There were very simple songs, more complex multi-movement pieces; one of the pianists had both of his pieces memorized. Plenty of wrong notes, many piano players and one flute player stopped and restarted a few times. The piano instructor went up to assist a few of the performers.
This was my first "recital" performance ever on alto flute, and my first "recital" performance at all since college, basically. I played an arrangement of "O Come Emmanuel" by Dr. Christine Potter. My flute teacher accompanied me on piano. All of the other pieces were classical of some variant or another, except the guitars - they performed arrangements of 2 Beatles Abby Road songs. My teacher performed a lovely piece from 2009 titled "Rain". The parts I could hear sounded AMAZING. (I couldn't hear much because the acoustics were lousy and the piano was way too loud - cover was raised at that time.)
The room itself was a cinder-block basement room with no echo or reverb at all. None. The second air stopped blowing on my flute, the sound | chopped | off | . It was eerie. Being musical in that space felt futile. The starkness of the acoustics morphed everything into a choppy clunking. That room was awful for being musically expressive. Ugh. I'll watch the video of my performance later; I'm hoping it sounded better to the audience than I think it did.
I felt remarkably good about my playing. I was much more nervous than I had thought I was going to be. It helped that the other performers were so authentic and supportive. A pianist played Fur Elise and bungled the last chord - she said "Oh! Nooooooo!" and then sort of comically fell onto the piano keys. I quipped that I hadn't forgotten my music, so I was already off to a good start. Another pianist said this wasn't the first student recital he'd been in and they never got any easier on the nerves. I felt a kind of warm-fuzzies I've never experienced before in a performance setting.
Afterward, one of the flutists approached me and said she loved my playing. She said I was inspiring, and mine was her favorite piece of the night. I encouraged her to try alto flute, and to join the flute choir if she was interested. I'm still all tingly! I gave an inspiring performance! I was somebody's favorite! And the fellow student didn't mind telling me so. No sense of cut-throat competition, no vicious jealousy, just one human expressing gratitude and kindness to another after a shared ordeal. What a night!
This afternoon, I performed a short alto flute solo at a recital for adult students at the Village Music Academy. Mostly flute and piano students, 2 pieces were guitar groups. It was a very healing, comforting experience. I didn't know what to expect, and that wasn't it.
At the beginning, one of the instructors thanked all adult students for being there. He pointed out that playing an instrument takes time, discipline, and is especially challenging for adults (as compared to students). The affair was very informal, not even a program (partially because they weren't sure who would be participating - hazards of adult students!). His words kind of hit me hard in the feels. I'm incredibly hard on myself for not practicing more, not being better, and in that moment I felt supported, validated, and appreciated in a way I might be able to keep in mind going forward.
A good mix of ability levels were represented. An older gentleman (50s or 60s) who had just started playing piano, for example). There were very simple songs, more complex multi-movement pieces; one of the pianists had both of his pieces memorized. Plenty of wrong notes, many piano players and one flute player stopped and restarted a few times. The piano instructor went up to assist a few of the performers.
This was my first "recital" performance ever on alto flute, and my first "recital" performance at all since college, basically. I played an arrangement of "O Come Emmanuel" by Dr. Christine Potter. My flute teacher accompanied me on piano. All of the other pieces were classical of some variant or another, except the guitars - they performed arrangements of 2 Beatles Abby Road songs. My teacher performed a lovely piece from 2009 titled "Rain". The parts I could hear sounded AMAZING. (I couldn't hear much because the acoustics were lousy and the piano was way too loud - cover was raised at that time.)
The room itself was a cinder-block basement room with no echo or reverb at all. None. The second air stopped blowing on my flute, the sound | chopped | off | . It was eerie. Being musical in that space felt futile. The starkness of the acoustics morphed everything into a choppy clunking. That room was awful for being musically expressive. Ugh. I'll watch the video of my performance later; I'm hoping it sounded better to the audience than I think it did.
I felt remarkably good about my playing. I was much more nervous than I had thought I was going to be. It helped that the other performers were so authentic and supportive. A pianist played Fur Elise and bungled the last chord - she said "Oh! Nooooooo!" and then sort of comically fell onto the piano keys. I quipped that I hadn't forgotten my music, so I was already off to a good start. Another pianist said this wasn't the first student recital he'd been in and they never got any easier on the nerves. I felt a kind of warm-fuzzies I've never experienced before in a performance setting.
Afterward, one of the flutists approached me and said she loved my playing. She said I was inspiring, and mine was her favorite piece of the night. I encouraged her to try alto flute, and to join the flute choir if she was interested. I'm still all tingly! I gave an inspiring performance! I was somebody's favorite! And the fellow student didn't mind telling me so. No sense of cut-throat competition, no vicious jealousy, just one human expressing gratitude and kindness to another after a shared ordeal. What a night!
