I have been thinking about yesterday’s State Solo and Ensemble competition and what that kind of thing has meant to me over the years. Back in my high school days , when electric lights had just been invented and Tchaikovsky was still alive, state music contest was the one day during the school year when I didn’t feel like a hopeless nerd. I was a very capable singer with a voice much bigger and more mature than the typical guy my age- and state was where I could strut my stuff, like a champion pole vaulter at a big track meet. And in addition to singing, I was a very very busy accompanist, so I would be walking through the halls with a gigantic pile of scores, running hither and yon – which probably helped my singing in that I didn’t have time to get nervous about it. It was great to feel like an All-Star, if only for a day. I still fondly remember my senior year, when Atlantic High School’s last entry of the competition was a duet with myself and Amy Nichols, my frequent singing partner – who had a very big and impressive voice- and when the two of us were really pumping out the sound, Wow! I remember that there were people hanging from the rafters in that room, including kids from other schools, who wanted to hear us. You better believe we were strutting around feeling pretty cocky after that- the closest I’ve probably ever come to feeling like the captain of the football team. NATS competitions during college got to be sort of similar, especially by my junior year, when I was two-time defending champ and going for my third. Again, for a skinny kid with glasses, hopelessly awkward, painfully shy for most of my childhood, those moments of glory were very sweet indeed.
When I go to Solo and Ensemble all these years later, it still gives me some of that same tingle of excitement and joy. It is great to be someplace where Music is the Big Thing – not an extra frill. It’s great to walk in with a fine high school student like Scott or Cassie or Dylan or Megan and have them knock the socks off of their audience members and/or judge. It’s also fun to play for people and get an occasional rave from a judge. And I will never forget the time at State when a baritone from Burlington was in trouble because his accompanist hadn’t arrived to play “Ol Man River” for him – and I stepped in and played it for him – and without music. (He had one copy for the judge, but the missing pianist had the other.) “I’m King of the World!!!” I felt like yelling as I walked down the hall after that. (It brought back memories of state contest when I was away to college for my freshman year – but came back to play piano for my brother Steve’s solo, “the Vagabond.” Halfway to wherever we had to go for the competition (we were on a school bus) Steve realized that he neglected to bring his music along, so I had to play “the Vagabond” by memory. I was rather irritated with my brother until I overheard him describing to friends what I had done; it was one of the first times in our lives that I really felt like Steve was genuinely proud to be my little brother and proud of what I could do.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that during my sophomore year in high school, I scored only a II for my solo at state contest, to the amazement of many who thought I was a shoo-in for a I. I sang Edvard Grieg’s “the Swan” and I remember that the judge hated the fact that I was crooning so much. At any rate, I got only a II and a bit of unwanted humble pie, just when I was thinking that some much-needed attention and glory was about to be mine. You better believe that I went into every contest after that with great energy- and it was all I’s from that moment on.
‘Such pomposity,’ you are perhaps thinking to yourself. Guilty as charged. State Solo and Ensemble is first and foremost about the music- and the musicians- but it’s also a chance for young musicians (and not-so-young musicians) to feel like Big Man On Campus.
(pictured above- the Pink Floyd tie I was wearing yesterday- which garnered MANY compliments, including many from the college kids who were serving as room monitors. I was sad to admit that I have no idea if Pink Floyd is a rock band or a women’s choir or something in between. I have never knowingly heard a note of his/her/their music. . . I just liked the tie. Go figure. )