Epic Win!

Last night, both Worthington Kilbourne's Symphonic Band and Wind Ensemble got 1's at district contest. I don't know about Symphonic, but Wind got straight 1's. Is that epic, or is that epic? So, I must say I'm in a pretty good mood right now. Good job to everyone, way to pwn that music!

It was also my last performance with Wind Ensemble. I'll be playing with them until this Walkabout's over, but there aren't any concerts between now and then. Well, if I had to choose a way to go out, it would be with last night's concert. I had several solos, but they were mostly really duets. I think I like that better in real life. I mean, I love solos and it's exciting to be the center of attention, but it's more fun getting to share that feeling. I think it increases that special tension you get beforehand, because the two of you are kind of holding each other up, and it makes the success more exciting—because it's also shared.

I do wonder what band will be like now that I'm not working on music I'll be performing with them anymore. I know this was frustrating for the Walkabout students who have already left when they did it, but… well we'll see what happens. All I want to do is play.

Really Beautiful

So if you're a musician, or if you're anyone really, but especially a musician, go read David Thomas's post at The Buzzing Reed now called "The Value of Music." It's a speech given by Karl Paulnack as a welcome to new freshmen at the Boston Convservatory. I might have cried, but I'm not telling. Just do it.

Auditions

So here's the deal: today's walkabout journal was wimpy at best, but I've been meaning to write about auditions. I wrote previously about my first audition and haven’t said anything about them since. So now I will write a review of the experience as a whole so that you can experience it too! I know, auditions really aren’t anybody’s favorite thing to do so you would think living vicariously through me would be rather unpleasant in this situation. But I promise not to get too gruesome. ;)

So you know about my awesome experience at Butler. That Monday, I traipsed over to Bowling Green, and on Friday I went to Pittsburg to audition at Duquesne. Both at Duquesne and Bowling Green, only the oboe faculty listened to me. At BGSU that’s only one person and in many ways it felt like my least formal audition. For one thing, I didn’t go on an audition day, so there weren’t a hundred nervous high school seniors all around me. It was the only place I only had one person listening to me, too. After I played she gave me a suggestion or two, and we talked about Bowling Green while she readjusted my oboe. That last part was pretty awesome. At Duquesne, I met a girl named Kirby who auditioned right after me. I found out that not only would she audition at Baldwin-Wallace and Oberlin as well, but that we would be auditioning at both on the same day again. Sure enough, we met at both schools. I wonder if we’ll play together next year.

Over the course of the next month, I was excepted by the department or school of all three of those schools—within two days of each other, if I remember correctly. Each has offered me an academic scholarship and Butler has offered me a talent scholarship already. I’ll be interested to see if the other two send me any such awards. I get the impression that’s generally decided in March, so I guess I’d be hearing about that soon? I haven’t been so much as accepted into the colleges of Case or Baldwin-Wallace, and I didn’t even apply to Oberlin’s college: just the conservatory. So I know I won’t get an academic scholarship from Oberlin. I can’t say I’m expecting a talent scholarship from them either, but more on that in a minute.

On February 20 and 21, I auditioned at Case and Baldwin-Wallace respectively. Butler was the only place where I could sense the enthusiasm of my audience, although at Case I’m fairly certain I won over the band director. There, I was heard by the oboe professor, the orchestra director and the band director. At B-W, I was heard by the woodwind faculty, and at Oberlin I was heard by the oboe faculty. I met Case’s oboe teacher for the first time at my audition, which really isn’t a great time to do that. I’m not sure what my impression of her is; it’s too skewed by nerves. I’m not sure what her impression of me was either. That was another good thing about meeting the teachers before hand; you already know the kinds of things they think are important and in some cases they’ve even told you that they would like to have you as a student. That’s always really reassuring to think back on, let me tell you.

Oberlin. It’s an impressively competitive college, but it’s a ridiculously competitive conservatory. And Alex Klein, who teaches oboe there, is practically hailed as a god by some oboists. Over at Obohemia, they almost hyperventilated from excitement when Alex Klein agreed to do a master class at Laurier. So I just waltzed into Oberlin and played for Alex Klein and Robert Walters. (OK, I didn’t exactly “waltz in,” there was a $100 application fee, along with a pretty hard core application. PS, Robert Walters isn’t exactly a name to be sneezed at either. He plays English horn for the Cleveland Orchestra, after all.)

For a while now, I’ve been reading blogs that tend to be dismissive of conservatories like Oberlin, complaining about this that and the other that’s approached wrong, and at once I’ve gained enough awe of the place to add up to the feeling that I probably would not get in, certainly wouldn’t get a penny from them (in scholarships), and would possibly be better off anyway. On Friday night before my audition, I met some of their studio and heard an oboist’s junior recital. It opened some door in my mind: “wouldn’t it be f***ing awesome to go here?” I really believe that feeling now, more than I did when I applied or even when I visited at first.

And I have to say, my audition went really well. For all that I had gotten in touch with a real desire to get in, I didn’t approach it the same as the other auditions. I was just excited to be there really, and excited to be playing for the people who were listening to me. I already had some acceptance letters to back me up and remind me of my worth, and I went at the ordeal with no purpose but to make music. That’s what it’s really about, you know? So who knows, I may yet get an acceptance letter from Oberlin. Cross your fingers for me?

Call Me a Liar

Justin Locke's post yesterday about music education yesterday had me doing some thinking, because in some ways, I strongly agree, but on the other hand I disagree. So torn am I, that I am writing a blog and not a comment. What's more, I've been meaning to maybe interact with the larger internet more on this blog but haven't really until now. So are you ready? Let's go!

The Inherent Value of the Arts

Let me start at the end, for this is where I am in agreement. When all is said and done, I know that the real reason to support the arts, whether I'm referring to education or to organizations, or anything at all, the real reason I am doing so is for that art for its own sake. This point is all the more important because I also feel that this kind of defense of the arts, particularly in education, gets neglected. It's as if we think either that no one else sees the value of beauty, or that we assume that it doesn't need to be pointed out. Maybe the problem is simply trying to articulate this power of art without just demonstrating it. I don't know, but I think this is something that cannot be under-emphasized. I also suspect that this is the real reason why arts education advocates do what they do. And this is where I disagree with Justin Locke, for all that the arguments used may sometimes be hollow, I really don't think it's all about making a buck. Yes, it's a business, but that doesn't mean advocacy for arts education is driven by money. I could be naïve, but I don't think so. (Well, I wouldn't, would I?) The problem, I feel, is much more likely to relate to ignorance than sleeziness in the majority of cases.

Connection to Academics

If I really wanted to make a valid point here, I would actually visit the link to the OSU study Justin referenced. Instead, I will argue with my own private experience, which is of course very subjective and easily dismissed as meaningless. I would like to say, however, that researching with identical twins is not the only way to find the kinds of trends like "arts education increases academic achievement." You just need a large sampling of diverse people. Also, the phrase is "arts education," not "arts exposure." One might put the word "formal" in brackets, because we can easily infer that anyone making this argument is saying that sitting down with a teacher and being instructed about arts in this way or that, either in creation or appreciation, is what apparently increases academic achievement. That sounds like a very stiff and snobby way of looking at how one should approach the arts, but I'm not trying to say what "arts education" should or shouldn't be. All I'm saying is that completely cutting off a child from anything artistic or creative would be much more extreme than any case study on this subject would call for.

I also dislike the example face-off of American-Idol finalists and super-geeks. I could go back to my definition of "arts education" and question the choice challengers on the "arts" side, but more important and to the point, I would double-check how likely it is that the super-geeks wouldn't belong on that side also. My best geek friend happens to play violin. Coincidence? Could be. I also observed last year that all the seniors in my music theory class made either commended scholar or semi-finalist on the PSAT/NMSQT competition. That's still a pretty small pool, but I tend to trust the implications.

Blurring the Lines and Bending the Rules

I mentioned music theory. Is that art or academic? Is English an art class? Clearly literature is art, but no one needs to debate whether or not reading is an "academic" subject. One of my classes got into a discussion this year in what exactly the difference is between art and science. Art, which we think of as synthesis, require analysis. Science, which we think of as analysis, requires and leads to synthesis. Science turns into art, art leads to science. They are intertwined.

Of course, I am now stretching the boundaries of both art and science in the field of academia. Perhaps that's a good thing though. Education could stand to open de-compartmentalize a bit. In the end, everything is connected to everything else. And that is the inherent value of art: it is a piece of the greater whole of culture and technology.

OSU and Nostalgia

I feel guilty about not blogging too often. You would think that with writing journals everyday, this would be super easy, but I have to think about what I want freely displayed on the internet. There are stories about people at ProMusica (not necessarily bad stories but still I don’t want to invade people’s privacy or anything) that are better off left at ProMusica, and there are thoughts too raw to publish for the world just yet. By that I mean, at this point I have rediscovered the true art of journal writing which I haven’t really made use of since middle school. In all academic writing the purpose is to make a point. But the purpose of writing a journal is to find one. If you were to read the journals that I used to keep semi-regularly when I was younger, which you won’t, you would see that my thoughts jump around but then combine together in the process of writing. In an academic paper, you’re supposed to have finished making these connections and what have you by the time you start writing. You begin with a goal in mind. With walkabout journals, the goal is to just write until the page fills up. This can yield interesting results, and my inner perfectionist isn’t ready to just copy+paste them into a blog. What do you mean I do the same thing when I write a blog? Lies!

So I may as well start with Thursday. I didn’t write a journal on Thursday because I didn’t go to Walkabout; I played with the band at OSU and went home. Well, that was the plan. I actually played with the band at OSU, went to choir (well, hung out with Jesse in a practice room) and went to Prospice and then went home. It’s a good thing the OSU concert was informal, because we weren’t really ready for a real performance. I think overall we played decently though. What’s more, I really enjoyed the experience. I realized that if I could just go to band everyday and that were it, I would be perfectly happy. I guess that makes my intended major in performance sound like a good choice. One would expect that to lift my spirits more than it does. I guess I wish I would suddenly come to some other conclusion, something that I could be more confident about. I need to find more confidence somewhere if I’m to go through with this performance thing. Things can still change though: either my goals or my disposition to them, or both.

I was disappointed that the choir didn’t actually do any work. Mr. Griffin hadn’t managed to sleep much the night before and realized early in the day that he was in no disposition to teach. I still got to say hello and everything. Plus, I was happy to spend time with Jesse. I did some thinking when we were in the practice room. Jesse was playing songs she had written on the piano. I’ve barely done any “composing” (hahaha, I’ve done no composing—I’ve done musical doodling) ever, but through formal piano training I was able to show off my awesome arsenal of piano repertoire. Jesse has taken a few piano lessons here and there, but she’s done a lot more musical doodling. The songs mostly aren’t overly complicated, although she’s tried using more interesting progressions lately. The problem is, she hasn’t finished these songs. But even though I can say “oh! Tritone substitution!” Even though I can recognize patterns, I really don’t feel confident trying to make stuff up myself. I think that’s kind of too bad. I’d like to mess around with that some when “free time” happens.

Senior Moment

By "senior moment," I mean that creepy feeling of, "oh God, I'm leaving" and actually comprehending what that means. Obviously, I've known for some time that I would be leaving school as I know it second semester, and that whatever shelter Linworth, Kilbourne, and my home still offer will be gone when I leave for college next fall. But that intellectual knowledge hardly ever reaches my core. I can say, "I only have two days left," or "I never have to write another college comp paper," but my inner self still prepares for the world it knows best, and expects to find it even when I know I have left. Even having left, the true implications do not reach me immediately until they burst before me in sudden insight. That—for the purposes of this blog—is a "senior moment."

I just got home from an oboe lesson. I left a full 40 minutes after I was supposed to, and my lesson should have only been a half hour. I think that's the longest time I stretched things, but to be fair, we probably did not even spend a full 30 minutes playing. Driving home, the thought suddenly hit me that I do not need therapy only because of my amazing music teachers. So I must take this moment to send my love. This does not mean I do not have love or thanks for my other teachers, but I want to honor my music teachers for the moment, especially my private piano teacher and oboe teacher because I do not think I've ever really thought about how much they really do for me or mean to me. There is the music, and that alone is a treasure, but they have helped me through so much else just by listening and always being there. I realized that tonight.

The beginning of that impact came almost a month ago (or over a month ago?) at my last choir concert. I found that instead of counting down days till walkabout or days left of school, I was counting choir rehearsals. I was trying to imagine going to Kilbourne, as I would for band class, and never going to choir and rarely seeing Grif. I had not really thought I would mind at all for a long time because I've never been particularly impressed with my choir class. But I found I was going to miss Griffin tremendously and the weight of leaving choir became heavier and heavier as time passed. Somehow though, I never really looked farther than that. I felt a pang of regret passing the choir room today, but I didn't think twice about the dwindling time left in band, or the shortening time between now and when I must bid goodbye to my private teachers. But that won't last either, will it? I realized that tonight.

I think, in giving so much over to music, I have given a great deal up to my music teachers. I have turned to you for help so many times, sometimes in music sometimes in life and even when I haven't, you have taught me so much. So even though it's time to move on, and I'm more than ready, I don't know what I'm going to do without you. I know there will be other people to help me and guide me, that I will certainly have a fair share of music teachers next year, but I still can't imagine not having you around. I realized that tonight. Fully. Thank you so much, Steve Rosenberg, Cynthia Adams, Larry Griffin, Phil Day, Don Nathan. I love you.

Weekend in Indianapolis, Part III

Despite all the good I've been spouting about my audition/visit at Butler, the best part of my weekend came on Saturday when I went buy an oboe from Carlos Cuelho http://www.carlosoboe.com . I had not realized until that day that my parents were willing to go all the way to $8k for me. I should qualify that; I've been saving money for this oboe for several years, but I still don't think I could have contributed much more than $3k. I'm not quite sure though, I don't know how much used to be in my bank account.

Anyway, that meant that I was able to buy a brand new Loree Royale. I tried six different oboes, and that's what I came home with. I'm still incredibly excited about this, I can't even say. The hard part is that I still need to break it in, so I can only play on it fifteen to twenty minutes at a time. When I switch back to the Fox (I've been playing a Renard 330 for about six years now) it feels almost like a toy. My band director just told me to bring the Fox back to school to give to another oboist, which worries me. We have some talking to do, because I really need to have an oboe I can play on for an extended period of time! But I hate to leave someone without an oboe. Anyway, I'll be keeping my hands on the Fox at least until I audition at Duquesne this Friday no matter what. Then we can maybe work something out. Oh well, I'll worry about that later. The point is, I have an amazing oboe now and I'm pretty much in love with it. His name is Bellamy, which is a French name (fitting, right?) that means "beautiful friend."

Weekend in Indianapolis, Part I

This Thursday, I went up to Indianapolis and Butler University to have my first audition. Because I want to major in oboe performance, not only do I need to send applications to all the colleges I want to go to, but I have to go to each of the schools and perform an audition, which is pretty much the scariest thing ever. Basically, you're put in a room with a few people listening (at Butler the oboe professor and bassoon professor listened to me) and have to play scales, a prepared solo or etude (generally, you prepare something lyrical and something technical), and sight-read. This does not have to be horribly difficult, but the pressure is high. These twenty minutes decide whether or not I'm accepted into a school's music program.

Friday was an audition day at Butler, which meant that there were seventy other people there and planned activities for us to do besides audition. First we were given an audition schedule and herded into what was clearly a band room (I think the orchestras rehearse there too. But I call it a band room because it felt like home.) to be greeted by the head of music admissions and the president of the Jordan College of Fine Arts. Before they began speaking I was able to ascertain that mine was the first woodwind audition and would be held at 1:00. The only other oboist to audition that day would follow me at 1:20. In the mean time, I was to take a theory placement test at either 10:00 or 4:00 and otherwise could attend more or less any activity I wished.

So, after the greeting I proceeded across the hall to where the theory test was administered. The test was not very difficult, although I have a very solid grounding theory. Hopefully, if I chose to go to Butler, I'll be asked to take the next level of theory test. That one will be a bit more work.

After the theory test, I went to a freshman theory class. They were talking about cadences and phrases and how to analyze where the cadence points are that determine the ends of phrases and then breaking up phrases into smaller segments according to motive. I had almost entirely forgotten about this chapter of theory—when I took AP theory last year we used the same book—so I took a couple minutes to feel I really understood what was going on. But, I did understand what was going on which was really exciting.

I then ate lunch, which my mother brought me from the bowels of Aferton. (I should really check to see how that's actually spelled, right? Oh well) I then went to a practice room for my warm-up. I played some scales and long tones and then got out my music to look over the sections that still sort of worried me. Everything came out just fine. That's when I knew I was going to have a great audition. And that's how it has to be before a good performance. You have to just know you're going to play well. When you feel that, in the core and not just the surface, that it's going to go well, you know you're right about it. At least, you know you'll play your best. I guess I could have played my best and still not have been received well. But not this time.

So I went in and just played. Nothing went really wrong, there were a couple scrapes, and when I played a two-octave F scale the top note didn't come out very well. Even so, they were very positive about the audition, legitimately happy about how I'd played. I think I can tell these things pretty well. Generally people don't tell you, "ouch, that was horrid," in an audition, but you can still tell when they're pleased and when you've left them less than awed. I suppose I'm a good enough player that no one would (hopefully) have reason to tell me my playing is horrid—just not good enough. I've had less than perfect auditions before and letters sent to me with essentially those words. Now I'm auditioning for college and the pressure's somewhat higher. I really, really, want to be seen as good enough.