I ran in a track meet this morning – the Case High School Sprint and Hurdle Relays, also known as Racine’s Solo & Ensemble music competition. Remember the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy and Ethel take a job in a chocolate factory, and find it impossible to keep up on the assembly line as the conveyor belt goes faster and faster? That was me at contest this morning, except that Lucy and Ethel got to do their thing seated at the conveyer belt, while I was in a non-stop mad dash pretty much from the moment I walked in the door at 8 to when I ran to my car at 12:50 to rush off to Racine Theater Guild auditions which were to start at 1.
I’m not sure how I ended up so incredibly busy with Racine’s contest, which is usually a leisurely stroll through the park for me compared to the wild ride which of the Kenosha’s competition. Last Saturday I played for 22 students at Kenosha’s Solo & Ensemble competition; my first event was at 8:16 and my last was right around 3:00 – which made for an exhilarating but hardly exhausting day. By comparison, today I played for 23 events in Racine through the course of the morning (because I had auditions at the Racine Theater Guild in the afternoon) and in all my years of playing for contest, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt quite so frantic and frazzled as I did today. (Often, I have played for maybe five or six students at the Racine competition. This year, I played for that many in the first hour alone!)
I actually don’t mind the actual playing – as far as that’s concerned, “the more the merrier” has always been my motto. What isn’t so fun is when the schedule starts to fall to pieces and you spend three and a half hours running from room to room trying to figure out which rooms are ahead, which ones are behind and which one (if any) is ready for you. (It only occurred to me tonight as I was talking with my friend Eric Carlson – a veteran of solo & ensemble himself – that what this competition needs is a big tote board like you see in an airport terminal, except that instead of listing which flights are on time vs. delayed, it would let us know which rooms are behind and by how much. Not likely to happen, I know, but it’s fun to dream about.)
Fortunately, the morning was about much more than my fried and frazzled nerves or the callouses on my hands from hauling around my big canvas bag. It was about music, and about making music with an array of very talented young people. Some highlights:
- I played for 23 events today, and – much to my delight and amazement – 19 of them earned I-star ratings, which means that they get to advance to the state competition. I know that ultimately it’s not about the ratings, but that doesn’t keep me from saying a big Yippee! Of course, when I think about how busy I’m going to be at State contest, I say a big Uh Oh. But that’s a worry for another day.
- I was very impressed with every vocal judge I encountered today; each and every one seemed to be very astute. (Sometimes at the local contests, you hear some pretty pointless comments made along with some downright nutty comments – and sometimes the ratings given defy all logic, but today I was in complete accord with just about everything that the judges said to the singers I played for today.)
- Every student I played for today did a really fine job – not only with their respective performances, but also in how they presented themselves, introduced themselves, carried themselves, etc. The most unfortunate moment along that line came when someone I played for absolutely slaughtered the name of the composer of their piece – and then made the mistake of thinking that op. 70 stood for “option 70” rather than “opus 70.” Fortunately, the actual performance that followed was brilliant and resulted in a much deserved one-star rating. . . which just goes to show you that the introduction really doesn’t matter that much in the whole scheme of things, however much we might preach otherwise.
- I was thrilled out of my mind with the performances of two of my private students – Mike Anderle and Brian Nielsen – who were both vocally under the weather but who managed to deliver fine performances anyway. It’s one thing to sing well when you’re feeling great, but quite another when you are feeling much less than your best. I was especially happy for Mike because he’s a senior and this was his last solo & ensemble contest- and life threw one monkey wrench after another into mix, preventing him from preparing as he wanted. But he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and really delivered the goods today, to the delight of his proud teacher, parents, and friends who were there.
- I had scary moments with two different singers who neglected to bring me a copy of their music from which to play, despite the fact that I had reminded them to do so. I can fake just about anything I’ve played many times over, but one of my students was singing an arrangement of “Give me Jesus” that his choir director picked out for him which was unfamiliar to me until he brought it to me about a month ago. The other student was singing “Giants in the Sky” from Into the Woods by Stephen Sondheim – enough said. But I managed to approximate something resembling the real accompaniments without being laughed out of the room or committing any blunders that threw off the singers.
- I think my favorite moment in this very busy day came when I walked into my first event of the day – Mike Anderle’s 8:08 classical solo – and realized to my delight that he was to be judged by one of my former voice students at Carthage, Paul Marchese, who now teaches music in Kenosha. (He’s the same amazing guy who helped me put together a few of my pieces to send to prospective publishers.) I don’t know why it never occurred to me that he might be a judge at the Racine contest, but it didn’t – so seeing Paul in that judge’s seat absolutely blew me away. What was most exciting was hearing what he had to say to Mike once the performance was done. Paul was a consummate professional and gentleman, and he had some very insightful things to say about Mike’s singing. And as I watched the two of them interacting – one of my current students being judged by one of my former students – I had this sudden and weird sensation of being some sort of musical grandpa. And I liked the feeling very much! (Later in the morning, Paul judged another of my private students, Ryan, and once again did a sterling job of offering helpful and insightful critique)
It was way too frantic a day for me to formulate a single conherent thought beyond “where am I going next?” There was no time to reflect on the importance of these kind of events which lift up and celebrate the excellence of our young musicians and encourage them to work hard to be still better. But tonight as I look at the photo at the top of the page, with my former student Paul and my present student Mike, first of all it makes me newly grateful for the life that I have been so blessed to live and for the privilege I have had to work with a cavalcade of gifted singers over the years like Neil and Nick and Caleb and J.D. and Kasey and Paul and Trevor and Andrew and Ryan and Mike and Sam and Bryan and Jacob and many many more. . . to have had a hand in shaping who they are, to have helped nurture what might be the precious gift of their own unique voice . . . and to have come to count each one as a friend. It’s about as rich a life as anyone could have, including the moments when you want to strangle them because they’re being lazy – or those moments when a student tastes bitter disappointment, even to the point of tears, and you are the person they turn to first for comfort. My former student Paul has already tasted all that and more in his still young career- and Mike hopes to have those experiences someday. And in this challenging environment in which so many doors of opportunity seem about to close, my hope and prayer is that Paul and Mike and all other gifted music teachers and students out there have all kinds of rich and rewarding experiences ahead of them, including the joys and sorrows and sweat and stress and excitement that is Solo & Ensemble. Trust me- there’s nothing like it!
pictured above: Grandpa Greg Berg took this photo of his former student Paul Marchese offering a fine critique of his present student Ryan Anderson.
pictured below: A similar scene, but this time with Paul speaking with Mike Anderle.
