Tag: orchestra

Can we just talk about orchestra concerts? I just don’t understand them.

I will start by saying that I don’t have an ear for music. I never did. I did have a very short-lived piano career when I was in second grade. We lived in Newport, Rhode Island, and I had the cutest little old man for a piano teacher, and he would teach me the lessons up in the attic of his beautiful old historic house. I love learning piano, and besides, he praised me a lot. Who doesn’t love praise? That was also the year I went to a real school for the first time and had a real teacher who also praised me all the time.

Unfortunately, my mother was my kindergarten and first grade teacher. You would think she would praise me more than the others, but I remember her being quite hard on me. I completely expected special treatment. Especially since I think there were only four kids in the class. But I do love reading and writing and I know my colors and shapes pretty well so looking back, I think she did a very good job.

Anyway, after only one year, we moved to Virginia and I continued my piano classes at a small music store in a strip mall. The teacher was mean and said I was doing everything wrong and tried to teach me everything all over again. And he didn’t praise me… not one time. So I quit. 

It seems like there might be a theme about me needing praise. I’ll reflect on that and maybe come back to it in a different blog post.

Speaking of praise, my brother works for an electric company and the other day he came home and he told me that his boss came to inspect his work. His boss looked at it, he turned around, he walked away without saying anything. My brother was thrilled! He said that meant it was good. What??? How does that mean it was good?? He didn’t even say nice work or good job or anything? I guess if you run a business like that, you don’t have to worry about your employees having high expectations. Also, it appears my brother doesn’t need much praise. Not even a word.

So that was about it for my music career. But somehow, my kid has played violin in school for the past four years. I used the word “play” very loosely here because I think he only chose Orchestra because all his friends were doing it and it was an easy A. He never brings it home, he never practices, and he often just complains about how boring it is. 

Why do they all wear black during an orchestra concert? It is supposed to look fancy? It looks like they’re all in the mourning. Or it’s Halloween. A couple hours before the first orchestra concert my kid told me he needed black pants and black shirt. And of course, we don’t have any black pants or black shirts, so I ran to every store in town trying to find some. 

Why can’t you just wear whatever you want? A little pop of color somewhere might wake the audience up. Why is there a dress code for being in the orchestra? Now my kid has one black pair of pants and one black shirt, and that is his orchestra uniform.

So I get to go to a couple of orchestra concerts a year. At the beginning, I was really excited! But my little kid comes in and sits in the back with his violin and then 70 tall people sit in front of him so I can’t see him at all! How am I supposed to get a video of him playing to show his kids? Why don’t they sit them from shortest to tallest? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Like they do in class pictures. Shortest in front, please. 

Last week at the orchestra concert I was able to snap one picture of my kid quickly before everyone piled in front of him. We got there early, too, and sat in the front row to have a good seat to see my kid. But then we were stuck sitting in the front row and I couldn’t even see my kid. I had to sit there quietly and pay attention and try to hold in my cough, so I wouldn’t disturb everyone filming their kids around me. I only coughed once but could hear the recording parents around me roll their eyes. At one point four kids got up and came down to the front and played the next piece standing there. They were so close I felt like they were invading my personal space and I had to keep my arms tight against me for fear I might get hit with a bow! That’s what we get for sitting in the front row. I did get up towards the end of the concert and walk all around the room to see if I could sneak a peek at my kid from any angle, but he was completely covered. Was he even there? He could have crawled out the back and walked to McDonald’s and I would not have even known!

The other week there was a large orchestra concert. The longest orchestra concert ever. I think it was a showcase of all the middle school and high school orchestras in the county. And my kid went very last, of course.

Most everyone was in the black uniform, but then this group came out with white tops and black pants! Way to switch it up! 

There was also another group that was very small, but the girls had matching long velvet dresses with ruffle sleeves (i want one), and the boys were wearing full tuxedos! I was, of course, paying more attention to the clothing than the music.

What was quite interesting was I got to see all the different teachers or conductors leading their orchestras. Is conductor the right word? I always feel like I’m talking about a train conductor when I refer to them that way. 

But I wonder is there any rhyme or reason to the way these conductors wave their little magic wands? Because they all do it so differently!

Do the students actually understand what they’re doing? Do they teach them that in orchestra? Is it like a secret music language? I asked my son since he’s been in orchestra for almost four years and he says he doesn’t know. 

The students in the orchestra who do know what they’re doing seem to respond to these little waves quite magically. At the exact same moment also. What do they mean? Are there facial expressions that go with them? A little raising of the eyebrow that means something? I don’t know! I can only see his back! I’m so curious! I should probably just ask google.

All the conductors did their conducting so differently. They were all unique and fascinating, but there was one man who was my favorite. He conducted his orchestra with so much passion that at one point, he actually jumped up and down. Both feet came off the ground! Imagine being so in the moment and so moved by the music that you actually fly a little bit? That’s what happened to him. I loved him! He reminded me of a little fairy. Or of being in a mosh pit. Kind of both.

I had a friend who was sitting next to me at one concert and filmed the whole concert. She said she was filming it for her daughter who was in the orchestra. Her daughter liked to go back and listen to it and find all the mistakes. Mistakes? There are mistakes in this? And people can actually hear them?

Also, what am I listening to? Is it good? Is it bad? How do I tell? Are these kids even playing? Before the concert by brother gave my son some advice. My brother played cello (why is there not an h in that word?) for years. My brother said if my son doesn’t know what he’s doing he can just “air bow.” He said no one would ever know. What is that? Fake playing? Did he make that up? And of course we would be able to tell. There would be no music! But still I watched them all very carefully during the concert and I could not tell if they were really playing or not? Are they all faking it? And there’s a hidden CD player somewhere? Probably in the back by my kid where no one will ever see it. Like those celebrities that get in trouble for lip singing? Or is it lip synching? Lip singing makes more sense although I think that is not what it is really called.

At this past spring concert, the teacher said we would notice a tremendous change from the winter concert. I didn’t notice anything! Am I supposed to notice something? Honestly, I don’t even really remember the winter concert? And is there something wrong with me because I don’t notice a tremendous change? Does everyone else sitting in this room notice that tremendous change from the winter concert? I want to notice tremendous changes, too!

Does the whole world have an ear for music except me? I would say maybe I need to work on it but how do I even work on it? Go to music school? Start to learn an instrument? I don’t have time for that. And I’m too ashamed of my failed piano career to try again. It’s only been about 45 years. I’m still working through it.

Maybe the problem is I don’t really listen to classical music. I never really have. Music has always been about the lyrics to me. Maybe I should start listening to classical music and then I might just develop an ear for music? I might be able to sit there in an orchestra concert and go, “Ah! That viola over there just made a mistake!” And point to a random viola player on the left looking embarrassed. Poor kid! 

But I think it’s more of one of those, “you’ve got it, or you don’t,” type of things. And I think I don’t. And I think you can’t really change those kinds of things. You just accept them.

But don’t worry, I have plenty of other, “I’ve got it,” types of things. I just can’t think of any right now. When I think of them, I will definitely write a blog post about it. And then you can praise me for it.

Do you know what else I just realized? I am deaf in one ear! I mean, I didn’t just realize that. I’ve known that for 20 years, but I just realized that is probably why I don’t have an ear for music. Because I only have one ear. Maybe the other ear was my ear for music, but I lost it over 20 years ago. Yes! We will blame it on that. Mystery of my orchestra confusion solved.

It’s quite sad that I will never have a musical ear because I’m deaf in one ear, but it’s quite a relief to know the reason why. Now there’s an explanation for all my confusion during orchestra concerts. There’s nothing wrong with me. Except that I’m partially deaf. I mean, there might be a few other things wrong with me, but all we’re talking about here is my ear for music. We will save those things for another blog post. (this will definitely keep you coming back for more)

So, moving forward, I’m just going to fake it. I’m going to go to all the orchestra concerts, sit in the front row, hope to catch a glance of my short kid all the way in the back, pretend I can hear improvement, and pretend I can hear mistakes. Isn’t most of life really just about faking it?

So, if you see me at those orchestra concerts, just play along. Let me pretend I know what I’m doing. Let me have my moment. And maybe give me a little praise. for how well I fake it.