Rock Bottom.

No, not the brewery, although I could seriously go for some good microbrews right now...

I'm talking about rock bottom, as in "I have hit rock bottom."

Today I was told a number of things that are a serious blow to anyone's ego, but particularly mine at this time:

1) Even if you play like a GOD at this audition, you will not get hired.

2) Everyone thought you came back from vacation out of shape and unprepared, also unable to play your descant.

3) Certain individuals in the section don't think that women should be leading a section.

***

So, I've been vague, not wanting to admit any sort of weakness here on the world wide web. But here's what's happened: For a variety of reasons, I've become unable to play horn. Like, making a sound has become difficult. During the break (the one where I allegedly was not practicing and not learning the music) I was actually having lessons with everyone, trying to figure out just how to get a buzz back, let alone play Mozart 29.

Should I have admitted my injuries during the Nutcracker? Probably. But who wants to admit weakness to a section they are trying to impress? Who wants to say "Yeah, I can't cut it?" Not me, and probably not you either. Have I learned a lesson? Hell yeah. Will I take full responsibility? Of course I will. Did I make a mistake? Yes. Am I new at this? Yes.

So, what now? Do I slink back to Philly with my tail between my legs? As much as I might want that, it isn't really an option. As small as the world might be, the music world is miniscule. The last thing I want is a reputation as "the horn player who runs away." Long term, I know that I would be very angry with myself if I did that.

Do I take the audition? No. There is no point. This is clearly not the job for me, and clearly not the right position within the section either. I don't want to waste their time, or mine for that matter. Right now, the only thing I need to worry about is getting my playing back on track. If that means sitting around playing whatever section parts they want me to play or only playing the easiest of the easy stuff, then so be it. That decision is out of my hands.

And as for people thinking that women can't play horn, well, once I figure this out I'm going to be at least four times the player that this particular expatriate is, and I won't be stuck in Calgary with antiquated ideas about gender roles.

Seems like up until now, every curse has been a blessing in disguise. I see no reason why this would be any different, although that doesn't make it suck any less for the time being.

Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face

Although I have been rotated off the new opera being premiered this week, I still went out after the performance tonight to hear all the gory details from my friends who were not so fortunate. I did catch the dress rehearsal of this opera a few nights ago, but that's not the point of my story. If I'm feeling verbose, I might blog about it at a later time.

I don't even remember what we were talking about at the bar, but I made one of my patently self-deprecating remarks to the extent of "Well, after I DON'T win my job, I'd be..."

But I was unable to finish the thought because out of nowhere, one of my very dearest friends was smacking me across the forehead. He then yelled something to the extent of "For fuck's sake, would you stop that?"

Now, Reader(s), those of you who know me also know that it is very rare that I am rendered completely speechless. But I was.

He was completely right. I have got to stop thinking like this. I truly cannot remember the last time that someone smacked me. And I REALLY can't remember the last time that I thought that getting smacked on the forehead was the best thing that anyone could have done for me.

Thanks, JW.

Chinooks as a metaphor for my life.

After a fairly unsuccessful audition in Philadelphia early this week, I came back to Calgary feeling like maybe, just maybe, I had hit rock bottom. And since I have hit rock bottom in the past, I knew that there was only one place to go from there: Up.

A very dear friend of mine on the East Coast summed it up pretty well: "You don't like your job, you had a really bad audition, you live really far away, your relationships are tanking, you horn playing sucks, and you're lonely as hell. The only thing lacking is a death in the family, but you have basically hit the bottom. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

Now, those of you who know me also know that this is the part where I completely started bawling and curled up into a little ball and started thinking that hiding under a rock would be a good alternative to what I am currently living. But this is a good guy, so he also knew that what I needed was a hug and the reminder that, in fact, it would be okay.

I'm finding that I do a lot of my best thinking on planes. Perhaps its that cathartic hum of the engine, or the solidarity of knowing that you really can't move for the next two hours or so. But as my plane started the descent into Calgary I thought, "Something's gotta give. I'm really not happy here. And I'm the only one who can possibly be responsible for that." It sounds simple enough, but it was a pretty enlightening epiphany.

Now, one of the good things about Calgary's weather is that every few weeks or so, a chinook rolls in from the mountains. A chinook is (as defined by Dictionary.com) a warm, dry wind that blows at intervals down the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains.

That doesn't make it sound NEARLY as great as it actually is when it happens. Chinooks are accompanied by very strong winds, the kind that blow leaves and debris around and knock over the garbage can outside. They are winds that rattle your house and make whistling noises in alleyways. But there's another sound that I've come to associate with a chinook, and that is the sound of snow melting, water flowing into drainage ditches, and accumulating into puddles outside my door. One of the prettiest byproducts of a chinook is the arch that forms in the west, right above the mountains. Its hard to describe, so I found a photo.

What you can't see is that the arch stretches the entirety of the horizon. But anyway...

The sky is blue, the temperature is rising RAPIDLY, and the snow is melting. Its hard not to see that as some kind of metaphor for what I'm going through right now. I'm not happy in my life, and with myself. So of course my horn playing is sucking! And of course, I'm the only one who can really deal with that. Enough of waiting for the approval of others, I need the approval of myself before I can get a damn thing done around here! If I talked to other people the way I talk to myself in my own mind, no one would be my friend. Maybe its time I started making friends with myself for once, rather than worrying about everyone else's needs.

A chinook has blown into my life, both literally and figuratively. Cheesy as it is, I just have to go with it. Things are looking up.

Opera rocks.

I've been getting into opera lately. I have no idea why. Well, I have an idea why. Someone told me I should really listen to Renee Fleming's "Strauss Heroines" CD. And I did. And it might have actually changed my life.

But I've been looking for a good opera duet to transcribe for two horns. And this is one of the most well-known and probably overplayed duets in all of opera from Bizet's "The Pearlfishers." Sure, its overdone maybe, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't kick some serious ass.



I'm wondering if transcribing an opera duet for horns is not a great idea since there are no words. But then, how many of us actually understand Italian anyway? It begs the question as to whether it really MATTERS what they're singing about when the music is that good. And as I always say, "Who goes to operas for the plot?"

"I'm so excited.... "

Quick, Reader(s), what early 90s pop culture reference is that?

No, not the Pointer Sisters. Saved by the Bell!

Horoscopes?

I recently updated my Google Homepage to include my daily horoscope. I've always been one to read horoscopes out of sheer silliness. I really don't place any stock in them, although I will admit to displaying many of the classic characteristics of my astrological sign. Here's the "best of...."

Moon in Cancer natives have a large potential to be able to get in touch with the feelings and moods of others. Often, they are quite wrapped up in themselves. ... Moon in Cancer people are never detached—they cling to things, their home, and people they care for... They may dwell on hurts long after everyone else has moved on...These people can have a hard time compartmentalizing their lives, simply because their watery Moon tends to know no boundaries. Sometimes, as a result, they may act irrationally...One of the most delightful characteristics of Moon in Cancer people is their loony sense of humor. These people can be extraordinarily funny. Their moodiness can baffle others, but their unique outlook on life is something most people can appreciate...When treated with tenderness and understanding, Moon in Cancer natives return the favor with warmth and protection...These people are wonderfully dependable overall, despite their occasional mood swings.

To sum up: Moody, irrational, loony, dependable. Got it. Fine, sure, whatever. I could probably find some truth in any of the other signs as well, but my point is that while its interesting, I don't think it really DRIVES my life.

Except that today, I think that whomever writes my horoscope is spying on me:

You are ready to jump in and do what needs to be done. There's no wasting time on frivolous activities for you these days. Still, you are now inclined to put on a professional outward appearance, for you know this will ultimately bring you closer to the quiet and cozy security that you seek. Remember, you don't have to give up what you want; instead, just wait a while longer.

My reaudition for what I have begun to see as "my job" has been affecting my life and thoughts pretty regularly lately. I'm asking all the big questions of myself: What do I want from a relationship? What do I want from my career? How can I reconcile the two? Am I even going to be in Calgary next year? What if I am, and what if I'm not? And the only answer is to be as professional as possible, focus on what needs to be done, and wait.

I guess I didn't really need my horoscope to tell me that, but I find the whole thing to be a little creepy.

Missing.

Someone asked me a very provocative question yesterday. Let me set the stage:

Work hasn't been what I'd hoped for lately. I haven't been playing well and my self esteem has taken a very serious blow. I'm questioning everything that I do and know, and really beginning to think about what I want, both from my personal life and from my career. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as it has been very thought provoking and a real learning process. But...

I was talking to this person about getting feedback from colleagues. I was recently home (as most of you know) and got a lot of interesting feedback about my playing from people who's opinions I respect, and who have known my playing for a year or more. It was incredibly cathartic for me to hear other people's opinions that, indeed, I didn't sound like I used to. But I started talking about feedback and how important it is that other people think that I'm a good person/good horn player. And he said,

"What's missing in your life that you so desperately need other people's approval?"

Whoa. In one simple sentence, this guy managed to open a can of worms in my brain. I have always sought the attentions of other people. I bask in it. I thrive on it. And if I'm not getting the attention I want, I immediately believe that there must be something wrong with me. I immediately believe that I have to work harder, be smarter, be better, be prettier, be WHATEVER in order to fit into exactly the positive light that someone else will (hopefully) see me in. As you can imagine, this is very difficult, and I spend an awful lot of mental (and physical) energy being incredibly hard on myself. And while I believe that this accounts for a great deal of my successes, I'm not certain its the healthiest way of going about things. Its hard on other people too, because I tend to push away the very people who's attentions I crave while I'm trying to be "better."

So... what's missing? I know that everyone craves positive feedback, but why is mine a driving force in my life? Where did this come from? And how can I really be okay just being, well... me?

Barbie vs. Condi

I really enjoy the series "This I Believe" that is broadcast on NPR every Monday.

I caught a little of the news flurry surrounding Senator Barbara Boxer's comments towards Condoleeza Rice this morning. Basically, Barbie informed Condi that she didn't have anything to lose in Iraq because she's single and has no kids. To be fair, Barbie also pointed out that she herself has nothing to lose because her children are too old to go to war and her grandchildren are too young. Now, I don't actually think that Barbie was trying to insult Condi's singleness. I think she was just trying to make the point that there are real people in the US who are dealing with the Iraq war in a much more personal way than those who are actually MAKING the policies that send our troops off to war.

The media is making this out to be something WAY bigger than it probably is. Was Barbie out of line? Maybe. Probably. Does Condi have anything to worry about? No. I'm sure she'd have no trouble finding a husband if that was what she wanted. I mean, she seems to have gotten everything else she could ever want or desire. She's a fucking smart lady, whether you agree with her policies or not. (Sidebar: This is probably the first and last time that I will come to the defense of Condoleeza Rice.)

So the media is having a field day. But I'd like to try to keep it in perspective: regardless of whether Condi is married, single or sending her kids to war, the fact remains that Americans and Iraqis are dying every day. Who got us into this? George W. Bush. Who's gonna get us out of it? I don't know. But lets not lose sight of the fact that this is a very VERY real war to many Americans who HAVE to believe, every day, that their husbands will call them tomorrow.

You're it.

My New York buddy tagged me on this. So here it goes.

Five things you probably don't know about me:

1) At least once a week, on my way home from work, I stop at the 7-11 on the corner and buy about $2 worth of gummy candy. (It used to be called penny candy, but I guess it would be nickel candy now.) I eat all of it by the time I walk the two short blocks home.

2) When I was five years old, I wanted to be Cyndi Lauper. I didn't want to be like her, I wanted to be her.

3) I just got a magnetic poetry set for my fridge and I really like it. I've always hated poetry. And yet, I just love arranging all the words on the fridge. Its really cathartic.

4) I don't really know my right from my left. I have to think about it, sometimes for awhile.

5) I have always wanted to buy a junker horn and throw it off a really high building like the Calgary Tower and then hang it on my wall. Or I'd like to keep it around for "those days" so I could just beat it up for fun, then rehang it on the wall.

Oh, here's a bonus track:

6) I know its really super geeky, but I really want a tattoo of a horn. Probably on my shoulder. I don't know that I will actually ever do this. Maybe if I ever reach tenured status in an orchestra.

I do this thing...

I went to the gym today and had a really great workout. But I realized that I do this thing.... and maybe some of you do it too and can tell me that I'm not fucking crazy. Ok, here it goes.

When I see a guy who I find physically attractive, I almost automatically look at the ring finger of his left hand to see if he's married. Now, keep in mind, Reader(s), that I have NO INTENTION of approaching these men. I'm hardly even checking them out. I don't go to the gym to pick up guys. I don't even go to the gym so I can talk to anyone else. If I want to talk, there are any number of people in my life that I can call when I'm not wearing workout clothing and sweating it out on the treadmill, or balancing precariously on a bosu ball. But during my workout, I do not converse with other people beyond "Are you done with those weights?"

So these are the questions that arise in my mind:

If I have no intention of even talking to these men or ever really looking at them again, why am I looking to see if they are married?

Do you do this too, or am I the only one?

Does this have an air of desperation about it? And if so, can you smell my desperation from far away, or is it just from arm's length?

I eagerly await your answers.

Cold.

Oh my god. Its so cold.

Food.

For some reason I didn't seem to find time to go to the grocery store today, so I still have NO food in the house. And yet, I managed to find enough ingredients to make banana bread. I'm pretty proud of this fact. Luckily, I had frozen bananas, and my experiment in defrosting them in the microwave has (so far) worked out alright.

Now, I've always thought of myself as a "good cook." Then I met the likes of JW and DS and realized that, no, I'm not really a good cook. I do alright, I mean, you aren't going to die if you eat the food I make. But I pretty much try to keep things as simple as possible. Hell if I'm not a damn good baker, though. When I shared this revelation with my mom, who says the same thing about herself, she said, "Well, you come by that honestly." I guess it runs in the family.

Now, banana bread isn't exactly complicated. Quite the contrary, it is the opposite of complicated, which is probably why I managed to muster up the ingredients in my exceptionally empty cupboards. This bread is perfect for its flavor, easy assembly, and versatility. Its great for breakfast, and perfect for a midmorning/afternoon/evening snack. Its also nearly impossible to screw up, and hard even to overcook, since it has such a high moisture content from the bananas. So here you go...

1 1/4 C Flour
1 C Sugar
1 tsp. Baking Soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 C vegetable oil
2 very ripe bananas
2 whole eggs
Throw in cinnamon or walnuts if you want to get fancy.

Put ingredients in bowl in the order listed. Mix together. Place in GREASED 9" bread pan. Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Enjoy!

Probably the only thing that is difficult is remembering to grease the pan. Good luck.

On auditions.

Occasionally, I get the fortune of celebrating a new job with friends. I love that. I love the phone call, "I WON!" I was fortunate to be subbing with Philly when CJ won her coveted position there. Now, there was obvious excitement about her position as the youngest member of the orchestra and also the only woman tubist in a Top 5 orchestra. But just feeling that energy and elation of winning a job, whether it is a regional orchestra or a top 5, is incredible.

But more often than not, as musicians, we are confronted with "I didn't advance," or "I didn't win," or "I was runner up." In the past few months, I've had this misfortune a number of times. Whether it was personal (an audition I didn't win) or hearing the gory details from a friend or colleague, its always difficult to know what to say.

I blogged about this a year and a half ago, and I stick to what I say.

It's a total crapshoot. You never really know what the committee is looking for. My teacher likened it to buying a car. The orchestra either wants to buy a Toyota or a Honda. Both are good cars, but what are they looking for? If you are selling a Honda and they decide to buy a Toyota, it doesn't mean that you are bad, its just that you aren't selling the right product.

That annoying Woody Allen quote always goes through my head as I prepare for an audition. "80% of success is showing up." And its true. If I want to WIN my job, I just have to keep going and keep trying to play well. I have to keep the faith that eventually someone will want the car I'm selling.

Until then, though, I didn't "lose" the audition in Kansas City this past weekend. If you win something (a car, contest, whatever) it is something that you didn't have already. But if you lose something, it is something that you already had. You can't lose something that you never had in the first place. So I didn't lose a job, I just didn't win it.

That doesn't mean that it isn't hard, though. To spend so much money on rejection seems downright stupid most of the time. And one's ability at auditions is not any sign of how you'll be in the orchestra. All it shows is how good you are at auditioning.

But how do you say that to someone when they're down? How do you convince someone that they are not worthless, that they do have something to contribute, and that life will go on? How do you convince someone that everything happens for a reason?

And as I ponder this, I think I've answered my own question. You can't convince someone of any of any of this. It has to come from within.

That still doesn't leave me with anything to say during the phone conversation, though. Thoughts, Reader(s)?

Home.

I absolutely love Philadelphia, that is no secret. I love the accent (but thank god I don't talk like that), I love the food (even though I don't eat cheesesteaks, the pizza is incredible), I love the buildings, I love the atmosphere. One thing that I am learning as I get older is that there is a distinct difference between "being home" and "being back."

When I get back to Calgary tomorrow, I have the distinct impression that I will be just that. Back.

But when I come home to PA, it is just that. Home.

I don't know where I picked up this allegiance to this city, but jogging up the Parkway towards the Art Museum, watching the annual Mummer's Parade on Saturday, and strolling down South Street just makes me feel right. Verizon Hall at the Kimmel Center is still a place of inspiration to me, and I love the facade of the Academy of Music. If I end up back here for a period of time, whether its just the summer, or if it is a bit longer, that'll be okay.

Everything happens for a reason, and most of it appears to be completely out of my control. So why worry?

It was so good, I cried.

I really don't like Wagner very much. I never have. And not for lack of trying, I even took a class on The Ring Cycle when I was at Temple. But I just can't get a handle on it.

But last night I heard The Philadelphia Orchestra perform the Prelude from Act I of Tristan and Isolde. And it was so beautiful, I cried. Like, tears were streaming down my face. The Philadelphia Orchestra is famous for its string sound, and being in the same room as a sound like that is nothing short of an honor. I glanced down at my program at one point and looked up to see who was playing the violin solo. But it was no solo, it was the entire first violin section. Their intonation was so perfect, their bowing so together, it sounded like 14 people were simply one person. When the basses and celli hit those Wagner-esque pizzacatos, it was like one giant string resonating together.

After that, the premiere of a new concerto for bass and orchestra by John Harbison, performed by the inimitable Hal Robinson, the orchestra's principal bass and all-around great guy. Its great to hear new music that doesn't suck. Though I'm still not sure about the bass as a solo instrument (sorry JW), it was really awesome to hear it played so well.

And then, Copland's 3rd Symphony, probably the most "American" of all symphonies. First of all, I am convinced that God speaks through the trumpet of Dave Bilger. Second, I'm sure that when he's not busy speaking through Bilger's trumpet, he's speaking through Danny Matsukawa's bassoon. I don't particularly like the sound of the bassoon, but when Danny plays it, it is the most un-bassoonlike sound. And Dick Woodhams... wow, if you're going to bother playing the oboe, that's the way to do it. Its just all tone... no reedy junk, no crappy shrillness... all tone.

Sometimes the Philly Orchestra just phones it in, like we all do. Last night was not one of those times. Bravo to Marin Alsop for making sure that all of the Phabulous Philadelphians showed up and PLAYED last night. I haven't been so moved by a concert in a LOOOONG time.

So close.

Wawa coffee and hoagie, I can almost smell thee.

Qdoba Veggie Burrito with all the sour cream and guacamole you can fit in that oversized tortilla, I can practically taste thee.

Philadelphia, I can practically smell you from here, and you smell like home.

Me.

From Horn Geek

I have spent this whole season trying to sound like someone else. I almost injured myself in the process and I, for one, am sick of it. I cannot sound like I play a Berg. I play a Rauch. Enough of this "bright sound never missing notes" crap. Its turned me into a complete headcase. I'm just gonna be me. What's the worst that can happen? I'll go back to Philly where everyone plays a Conn and sounds like they're blowing raspberries into a bucket.

New Year, Same Me. And finally, I'm going to embrace it.

From Horn Geek

Resolve.

Ah, 2007. The anticipation is killing me. Will it be nearly as good as 2006? Hard to believe that anything could be as good as 2006. I want to think that it will go down as one of my best years ever, but that's a bit limiting, isn't it? I'm feeling pretty positive about the future lately, and the immediate future holds a trip to Philadelphia to see friends and family for a week or so. I'm looking forward to that.

Hope everyone had a Happy New Year. I spent mine working-- not a bad gig if you don't mind some waltzes and pops music. Actually, its not so bad to be the entertainment when everyone is having a good time, dancing and drinking.

If you're a regular reader (ha) you know that I'm not really into holidays. And I'm also not into resolutions for the New Year. Don't get me wrong-- I think its great that the earth successfully rotated around the sun one more time, but I'm not entirely sure this is a good reason to completely change your life. It is, however, a good reason for some reflection, perhaps make some minor changes, and SET ATTAINABLE GOALS. Past resolutions have included:

2004: Recycle more.
2005: Make more "one-pot meals"
2006: No more shitty gigs. (I blogged about this one. Worth a read. It worked, too!)

And I know you're excited to hear about 2007's....

Drink more water.

***

In the spirit of the season, I recommend everyone read this, and click on the link at the bottom and listen to the recorded version. Cheesy, perhaps, but worthwhile advice from a decade ago.