rockinlibrarian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rockinlibrarian) wrote2012-12-23 12:41 pm
rockinlibrarian) wrote2012-12-23 12:41 pm
Having a Balanced Christmas Festival
My high school concert band played (a band arrangement of) this song, "A Christmas Festival," every year at our Christmas concert. It was a tradition, that mostly carried over year to year because it was JUST THAT FUN to play (tricksy, but FUN-tricksy. Hear that fast part the strings are playing in the background of "Deck the Halls" about a minute in? Imagine playing that on clarinet), and everyone kept insisting on it, year after year:
At about 7:18 in the above video, a section begins that, well, is played correctly, here. It wasn't at my high school for many years. It was nice enough-- a chaotic, fortissimo explosion of jingle-bell joy. Then one day our director (who'd been at our school about a year and must have suffered all last year hearing that part of the song wrong, too, if she didn't bring it up until now) stopped us and asked, "Can any of you hear what the trombones are doing there?"
We all (except the trombones) glanced silently at each other, hoping the question was rhetorical. I had no idea what the trombones were doing there.
"Well, let's hear it," she said, waving toward the low brass section, "just the trombones at [whatever bar number that was]."
And then, clear as day, we finally heard the beginning of "O Come All Ye Faithful."
A bit of a sheepish gasp spread through the band. "I LIKED the sound you were giving me," the director continued. "I still want you to play loudly. Just MAKE SURE YOU CAN HEAR THE TROMBONES."
Anyway, I like this story. It feels metaphorical. I don't know what it's metaphorical FOR. The importance of listening for the low, slow voices being drowned out by the high panicky ones? The need to feel the deep underlying flow of joy in the season underneath the frantic rushing about of the holidays? Remembering not to let the True Meaning of Christmas get buried under the wild gaudy commercialism? Or is this just a story about my past that I remember when I hear this song? Whatever you want it to be.
If I don't talk to you again before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS, WORLD. And, as always, I want to share this song with you, but now I even have the clip so you can listen:
At about 7:18 in the above video, a section begins that, well, is played correctly, here. It wasn't at my high school for many years. It was nice enough-- a chaotic, fortissimo explosion of jingle-bell joy. Then one day our director (who'd been at our school about a year and must have suffered all last year hearing that part of the song wrong, too, if she didn't bring it up until now) stopped us and asked, "Can any of you hear what the trombones are doing there?"
We all (except the trombones) glanced silently at each other, hoping the question was rhetorical. I had no idea what the trombones were doing there.
"Well, let's hear it," she said, waving toward the low brass section, "just the trombones at [whatever bar number that was]."
And then, clear as day, we finally heard the beginning of "O Come All Ye Faithful."
A bit of a sheepish gasp spread through the band. "I LIKED the sound you were giving me," the director continued. "I still want you to play loudly. Just MAKE SURE YOU CAN HEAR THE TROMBONES."
Anyway, I like this story. It feels metaphorical. I don't know what it's metaphorical FOR. The importance of listening for the low, slow voices being drowned out by the high panicky ones? The need to feel the deep underlying flow of joy in the season underneath the frantic rushing about of the holidays? Remembering not to let the True Meaning of Christmas get buried under the wild gaudy commercialism? Or is this just a story about my past that I remember when I hear this song? Whatever you want it to be.
If I don't talk to you again before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS, WORLD. And, as always, I want to share this song with you, but now I even have the clip so you can listen:
no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-12-23 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)Anyway, that's what I got from it.
(megan, who is too lazy to sign in right now.)
no subject
Sadly, most of my high school band memories are negative because the evil man who taught it was one of the biggest jerks I have ever met in my entire life. He made someone cry at least once a day. You should not make people cry over how they play music, unless it's that they're so good it brings tears to one's eyes. My mom used to feel bad for him that there would be a long line of angry parents waiting for him at every parent/teacher conference day, but admitted that he deserved it. I was an extremely well-behaved, goody-two-shoes type in high school and even I got involved in the passive-aggressive behaviors we used to get back at him.
Incidentally, he's even the reason why I only ever learned the right hand in piano as a kid. My mom had heard of him when we were young for private music lessons. I think I was about 7 at the time. I hated him so much even then that I refused to continue and my mom cancelled the lessons. He told my sister that she'd never make it to high school band with her flute and not only did she do so, she stuck it out the whole four years. For my part, I also made it to high school band with my flute, but only did two years before fleeing to the select choir.
Anyway. The point of all this is to demonstrate the difference between your fond high school band memories with an instructor who got through to you and let you have fun, and my cringe-worthy ones. And the point of THAT probably got lost in there somewhere.