Music and Me (Part One)

Years ago, when I first joined (was allowed to join, I should add) the Bflo Philharmonic Chorus, I was overwhelmed by the experience, and as it happens with me, I tend to write about things that overwhelm me.

When I was in high school, I became a fairly accomplished clarinetist, sitting principal for most of my years in high school (to the dismay of the clarinetists senior to me, who never failed to challenge me for my chair). I remember taking my clarinet on summer vacation with my parents and playing in campgrounds, so I didn't lose my technique over the summer. I practiced for hours, and took private lessons, etc. My parents acutally had to tell me to stop practicing, because I would just go on til all hours of the night if they didn't. I was driven to perfection, not because I had to be first (though this was a reward of some sort I suppose) but because I wanted to be free to express myself. I wanted to move beyond just being proficient at the notes, so that I could express my feelings through my instrument. My spirit was a major part of why I played an instrument. I sometimes have said that my clarinet, that music, saved me back then.

I also sang in the concert choir, and competed both in voice and clarinet. I was especially pleased when I ranked high, again, for my own satisfaction. At my senior recital I sang "The Black Swan" (from the opera "The Medium") and also played my "Concertino for Clarinet" by Weber. It was expected I would go to school for music. It was assumed. But I didn't. My senior year, we had a new conductor, and I despised him. (The former one and I got along famously---he often chastised me in rehearsals, which he knew would motivate me to prove him wrong---it worked---but we were the best of friends, really). He allowed this one student to basically harrass me all year for the principal seat. She challenged me every week. I got so tired of it. I wasn't playing for sport, I was playing for love.

The competition and nastiness I experienced (and it was only high school) was really demoralizing and I felt that it would ruin music for me. I wanted to love playing my instruments and singing, not end up hating it. So I never auditioned for any conservatories or music schools. I chose not to. I still played my clarinet and played the piano everyday in the dorm at school. Eventually I learned guitar and started playing open mikes and coffee house gigs. A friend even made a little studio recording of my songs. It was fun. But it wasn't quite the same as playing with a large ensemble. I missed that.

One day I was playing guitar and singing at my former boyfriend's home, and his mother (who was usually not so nice to me) invited me to audition for the Buffalo Philharmonic Chorus. I was secretly scared to death. I hadn't done an audition in years. I didn't know what I'd sing. But I knew I had to try. I did try; singing "Rest in the Lord" from "Elijah". I was so nervous that my voice tightened right up, and Thomas Swan, the director conducting the auditions, asked me if it hurt to sing that high (I was a first soprano in high school--oh how our voices lower over the years). It didn't, and I got in (I think because I rocked on the sight singing and pitch matching---there was that at least).

My first concert was Beethoven's Symphony #9. I had really never sung anything in another language (German) and really never sung a great choral masterwork either. It was electric to go on stage for our first rehearsal with the orchestra. I sat down, for the first section, and when I heard the clarinetist, for the first time, I started to cry. I missed my clarinet. I felt such regret then, that I had made such a mistake. I longed to be in the orchestra at that moment. But the moment passed, and I realized later, why I had taken the path I had.