My heart is warmed. We are starting rehearsals (make that *rehearsal*) for the Nutcracker. This may not mean new music to sink my teeth into, but it definitely means that this holiday season is WAY better than the last one. I'm making money, the Nutcracker puts me in the holiday spirit, and to put a cherry on top, I remembered how to knit even though I haven't touched my needles in MONTHS!
It's a great time of year. Thanks, Nutcracker.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Tonight is my first Christmas concert where I am teaching a fully fledged string ensemble.
Of course, the ensemble has three people in it, and no violas, which leaves me to fill in with my awesome uneducated skill set - shut uuuuuup...
STILL, it is the first night of what has been promised to be an epic event. My university apparently holds three services over the course of a weekend, with a total of 1200 people passing through the doors over said weekend. The tickets sold out weeks ago.
On the string ensemble slice of the program: A mild-mannered version of Corelli's Christmas concerto that lasts all of three minutes, a quartet reduction of the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and an arrangement of What Child is This by yours truly. I have been informed by my supervisor that normally the attendees DO NOT CLAP, as it is a CHURCH SERVICE.
This, however, brings up an interesting point. I attended many, many church services as a child, and now performed in several as an adult. Clapping to show appreciation after a performance has seemed fairly random. Here are some observations I have made so far on the subject:
*If the piece ends quietly, applause is much less likely. The reverse is true for a piece that ends loudly.
*The quality is important. Applause happens for the very very good performances, as well as the very not so good ones. Average, middle-of-the-road performances are not usually applauded after.
*The Lutheran congregation seemed hesitant to start their applause. The Baptist congregation dove right in. This is unexpected somehow.
*Prelude and offertory music are much more quietly received, supposedly in anticipation of either the start of the service or a benediciton.
*You could miss about twenty notes in your piece and no matter what applause you get, you will get an appreciative member of the congregation who will make it a point to tell you how much they enjoyed it. They are a nice bunch.
It will be interesting to watch the collective mindset of the audience tonight. Immediately following our performance are three verses of Silent Night, during which we will be moving stuff on the stage. That in itself should be applause worthy, but usually isn't. And then follows a couple more hours where I will have to sit in the back with the students since this place is completely sold out.
On a related note, I am so proud of my kiddos. They have come a long way. And they sound pretty darn good.
Of course, the ensemble has three people in it, and no violas, which leaves me to fill in with my awesome uneducated skill set - shut uuuuuup...
STILL, it is the first night of what has been promised to be an epic event. My university apparently holds three services over the course of a weekend, with a total of 1200 people passing through the doors over said weekend. The tickets sold out weeks ago.
On the string ensemble slice of the program: A mild-mannered version of Corelli's Christmas concerto that lasts all of three minutes, a quartet reduction of the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and an arrangement of What Child is This by yours truly. I have been informed by my supervisor that normally the attendees DO NOT CLAP, as it is a CHURCH SERVICE.
This, however, brings up an interesting point. I attended many, many church services as a child, and now performed in several as an adult. Clapping to show appreciation after a performance has seemed fairly random. Here are some observations I have made so far on the subject:
*If the piece ends quietly, applause is much less likely. The reverse is true for a piece that ends loudly.
*The quality is important. Applause happens for the very very good performances, as well as the very not so good ones. Average, middle-of-the-road performances are not usually applauded after.
*The Lutheran congregation seemed hesitant to start their applause. The Baptist congregation dove right in. This is unexpected somehow.
*Prelude and offertory music are much more quietly received, supposedly in anticipation of either the start of the service or a benediciton.
*You could miss about twenty notes in your piece and no matter what applause you get, you will get an appreciative member of the congregation who will make it a point to tell you how much they enjoyed it. They are a nice bunch.
It will be interesting to watch the collective mindset of the audience tonight. Immediately following our performance are three verses of Silent Night, during which we will be moving stuff on the stage. That in itself should be applause worthy, but usually isn't. And then follows a couple more hours where I will have to sit in the back with the students since this place is completely sold out.
On a related note, I am so proud of my kiddos. They have come a long way. And they sound pretty darn good.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
I have reached this point every year since high school and am surprised by it every time. It's December, people. The academic world starts snowballing.
Actually, that's not quite accurate. It would be a snowball if one spends Thanksgiving break building up events and homework and business. But that never happens. Thanksgiving is a welcome break from the chaos that begins building from about the middle of October. Then the chaos slams again. So you're not so much experiencing a snowball effect so much as the feeling one would get after the eye of a hurricane has passed,
Eyes become bleary, and an amazing feat happens every year. Students and faculty alike realize they are dangerously close to the end of the term, and a haze sets over campus. Everyone develops what is understood to be a countdown meter above their heads, letting everyone know that their exhaustion is justified. They will make it, they will do everything that is required of them to the best of their ability, and then they will collapse and firmly not think about education for about two weeks.
I, in my infinite wisdom, scheduled a final for the participants in my string ensemble. I figured it was a way to raise the bar - make sure that my group is dutifully studying scales and etudes along with learning their ensemble repertoire. It would let people know that the new faculty member in town expected some serious work and individual practice! And something worked - my group sounds far betterr than it did at the beginning of the semester, that's for sure.
However, I now realize why my ensemble directors in the past never scheduled finals: they would have to show up for them!
The worst part is that now I have set a precedent. It will just look silly of me to stop the running of these tests unless my group grows to a size where it doesn't make sense to run 1-on-1 finals anymore. I have committed myself to finals week indefinitely.
One learns a lot their first term as the new kid in town. It's all worth it, though- my kids rock. And more importantly, they're excited to play.
This is really all I require.
Actually, that's not quite accurate. It would be a snowball if one spends Thanksgiving break building up events and homework and business. But that never happens. Thanksgiving is a welcome break from the chaos that begins building from about the middle of October. Then the chaos slams again. So you're not so much experiencing a snowball effect so much as the feeling one would get after the eye of a hurricane has passed,
Eyes become bleary, and an amazing feat happens every year. Students and faculty alike realize they are dangerously close to the end of the term, and a haze sets over campus. Everyone develops what is understood to be a countdown meter above their heads, letting everyone know that their exhaustion is justified. They will make it, they will do everything that is required of them to the best of their ability, and then they will collapse and firmly not think about education for about two weeks.
I, in my infinite wisdom, scheduled a final for the participants in my string ensemble. I figured it was a way to raise the bar - make sure that my group is dutifully studying scales and etudes along with learning their ensemble repertoire. It would let people know that the new faculty member in town expected some serious work and individual practice! And something worked - my group sounds far betterr than it did at the beginning of the semester, that's for sure.
However, I now realize why my ensemble directors in the past never scheduled finals: they would have to show up for them!
The worst part is that now I have set a precedent. It will just look silly of me to stop the running of these tests unless my group grows to a size where it doesn't make sense to run 1-on-1 finals anymore. I have committed myself to finals week indefinitely.
One learns a lot their first term as the new kid in town. It's all worth it, though- my kids rock. And more importantly, they're excited to play.
This is really all I require.
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