The Happy Trails I’m talking about were at Indian Trails High School, the site of Kenosha’s Solo & Ensemble Music Contest. I was playing piano accompaniments for 21 events, which made for a plenty busy – if not brutally busy – day. Here are some thoughts- and some highlights from what turned out to be a fun and interesting day.
- Happiness is One Hall – In the old days, when Kenosha’s contest was at Bradford High School, it felt like a day of nonstop running from one end of the school to the other. I should have more deeply appreciated the much needed exercise I was getting, but mostly I was aware of the sweat and the sore feet that were involved. But this year, with me only playing for vocalists, my whole day was spent in three rooms: 1301, 1302, and 1305 – and had I not run home at noon to visit the dogs, I could have spent the whole day in that one hallway. I suppose a tiny part of me missed the frantic track meets of contests past, but the rest of me was grateful that I could focus a little more on the music and the students and less on how the heck I was going to get to them in time for their various events.
- Comedy and Tragedy – At some point during the past week, Polly and I were talking about the fun she has judging the Solo & Ensemble contest in Racine, which was a week ago. She said something about how she enjoys judging the local level contests exactly because they tend to be an unpredictable mix of comedy and tragedy. And it’s true, although I had never stopped to think about it in quite that way. At State, you at least theoretically have the cream of the crop, so you are very unlikely to hear too many outright catastrophes. But at local contests, you are likely to hear some rather miserable failures at some point- and often it falls to the judge to be a giver of comfort and encouragement, sometimes even before the performance itself is even finished. And of course, it also falls to the judge to say something that will be helpful. I’m glad that I heard that comment from Polly before today because it helped me to appreciate the craziness that comes with a contest of this kind.
- Family Circle – Every year at contest I see sweet encouragement offered by friends and family, but for some reason I was especially aware of it this time around. For instance, as my voice student Christian Enwright was singing his really fine performance of “Alma del core,” I couldn’t help but notice how attentively and appreciatively his 6th grade brother Grant watched his performance. (I’m glad he was sitting directly in my line of sight.) Likewise, as I played for two different Orr sisters today, it was moving to see how they each listened so lovingly to the other. And then there was the case of the Richters, a brother (a freshman) and sister (a senior) singing together in Benedetto Marcello’s “The heavens declare God’s Glory.” As much as I enjoyed their lovely performance, what stays with me even more vividly is how sweet and fun they were with each other. It was absolutely clear how much they love each other and enjoy each other, and seeing that was just so invigorating and inspiring.
- Judge Not – One thing they do now in putting the schedule together is plant the accompanists in one room for long stretches of time, rather than having us run from room to room- which is a much more efficient way to do it and tends to keep things running on time. But it can be deadly when you end up spending a long stretch of time in a room with a judge who drives you crazy. I was in the same room for 90 minutes this afternoon and by the end of it . . . well, let’s just say it’s a good thing that I didn’t have a bottle of mace in my pocket. This particular judge certainly meant well but had this loud, brash personality that was like finger nails on a blackboard – and when she sang little excerpts, it was with the wobble of a 110-year-old. And after awhile it sure felt like this contest was all about her rather than the young people she was judging. At least she offered up some decent suggestions, but she was so different from the quiet souls in whose rooms I played this morning, who seemed to want no part of the spotlight at all. And someday if I ever do start judging contests like this (I really want to someday) I certainly hope I’m that kind of judge and not the kind that seems desperate for attention.
- The Carthage Contingent – I was delighted to see (as usual) Carthage music students pitching in, including Fletcher Paulson, John Kryl, and Maren Schutz. (I know there were others, but those were the ones I actually saw.) It was especially nice to see Liz Tindall at the front information desk, answering people’s questions and telling them where to go. Liz is one of my very favorite people, and as a Tremper graduate and a veteran of Solo & Ensemble, this was a perfect place for her to be, with her warmth, good humor, and smarts. I can’t imagine anyone being better equipped to make people feel welcome.
- The Silence that Says it all – When I think back to the greatest musical pleasures of the day, a couple of performances stand out for the way in which they managed to silence the room. One was a performance by one of Polly’s students (I think one of the Orr sisters) of Sondheim’s “Send in the Clowns.” As I played the soft, spare opening measures of the introduction, I was struck by how quiet the room became, and of how absolutely quiet the room remained for the balance of the performance. What a song! I am also reminded of the highly expressive performance which Colin Robertson gave of “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables,” which I think is the single best song in “Les Miz.” Colin sang this with an intensity that seemed to make time stand still, and I felt genuinely privileged to be part of such a performance.
- Courage Conquers All – I was in the audience for a couple of performances today that bordered on the catastrophic, but they were also impressive performances for who the singers managed to keep going despite everything pretty much falling apart. In both cases, it would not have surprised me one bit if the singers had stopped singing, started crying, or both. But somehow, they managed to grab hold of courage that they may not have even realized they had, and they finished. It’s one more reason why it is so good for young people to have these opportunities to perform in front of others … because there is nothing quite like being thrown into the frying pan of live performance. And when you survive it, you are just that much more ready for the next performance and the one after that.
Beyond the two “catastrophic” performances I heard, I also heard very inspiring performances towards the end of the day by two young boys – both 6th graders, I believe, which can be such an awkward time for boys who sing. Compared to the assured performances of more experienced young guys I played for today, these boys were on a decidedly lower level of excellence. But you could just see how much they both loved to sing- and it was pretty clear evident that if they continue on, they can look forward to some gratifying success as singers. I resisted the urge to run up to each of them to give them a bear hug and implore them to Keep Singing! (I didn’t know either of these boys and they wouldn’t have known me, so I’m sure I would have scared them to death! ) But I’m going to hope that singing continues to be an important part of their lives for years to come. And for that matter, I wish the same thing for every young person I accompanied today.
pictured above and below: This is the aforementioned brother and sister who sang a duet this afternoon at contest.
