I'm going to let you in on a little secret: If you're going to make it doing one thing and one thing only, you'd be very, very good at it and willing to commit your life to it.
For the rest of us, don't get stuck doing one thing. Knowing how do everything and knowing where to start and how to approach things you're clueless about is a pretty big asset.
Let's approach this from a musical perspective, and start with some wonderful examples. A dude I know, Drew, a sax player, rocks at alto and bari, I don't know how his tenor skills are but I bet they're pretty good too. But he's also a boss at clarinet and flute, and he sings in Singers 1. I don't know exactly how he got to be in the ensembles he got to be in, but he probably got into the Jazz Repertory because he can play those woodwinds because clarinet and flute were used a lot in early swing jazz, and he probably got into Singers because he has another musical perspective with which to approach things. I don't know what lab band he's in, but I'm sure the alto and tenor chairs are a lot more competitive than the bari spots. Regardless, nice job Drew.
I know for a fact that to be accepted to the school of music at UNT as a sax player, you have to be able to hold your own on alto, tenor, and bari. This is a pretty smart move because it promotes well-roundedness and makes a student's musical ability easier to examine, because, personally, it's a lot more impressive to see a pretty great all around sax player who switches all the time than an amazing alto player. It shows me that they have the ability to turn their mind upside down and switch trains of thought really quickly. Nice.
I don't think there are very many other instruments here that require doubling or well-roundedness to get into the music school. Sure, you have to be able to sight read on snare and mallets, and play a mallet solo and a different solo, but if you got lucky, you could probably get in without touching timpani or bells or maracas or a drum set, even, in your entire life, and I feel like there are some people that are that way.
Once you get into school though, it's a whole different story.
The drum set players are struggling in their mallet lessons, the vocal jazz majors are complaining through their classical voice lessons (which is probably at least a little true, since they don't have any male vocal jazz majors, I guess they have one or two), the low brass players are cringing while writing in treble clef, and everyone else is slowly but surely making their way through two full years of piano class. In the college of music, almost the whole first year focuses on diversity. We take theory, aural skills, piano, music history, classical lessons, and some of us take some crazy ethnic ensemble, and for the general population, most of the subject material in those classes is uncharted territory. But the professors and T.A.'s know that spreading the students out evenly will in time mold a better player, and result in a more successful career and a happier life.
Two out of two of the people living in my room are struggling through sonatas right now, whether they're being used in classical lessons or my mallet lessons, and they're both things that we're not the cat's pajamas at. I'm sure the exact same thing is happening to every freshman all over campus.
So don't feel bad if you feel like you're spread out thin or being stretched too far. That's what college is about, and come senior year you'll be the best at everything. Or something like that.
This has something to do with my day, I sweat. The UNT Percussion Ensemble, our top percussion ensemble, had a concert today. The UNT Percussion Ensemble is the cream of the crop at embracing the unexpected and being well-rounded. Let me explain.
- Fanfare for a New Audience, David Skidmore. Basically two sets of crotales, two chimes per player (not sets, just individual chimes), and a lot of toms.
- Imaginary Landscape No. 2, John Cage. If the composer didn't give away how wacky this piece was going to be, they played tuned tin cans, a lion's roar (legit percussion instrument), slinky, and my mallet teacher played a conch shell. We'll add it to the list of the pretty awesome things he's done.
- Pythagoras and the Four Hammers, Andrew Thomas. A song about when Pythagoras was wandering through a forest and heard a blacksmith forging with some hammers and how that explained to him what music was. Best part: it's standard percussion literature.
- Vous avez du feu?, Emmanuel Sejourne. A piece for four players, each holding a lighter in each hand. I'll put a video up if I can find one, it's awesome.
- A Ceiling Full of Stars, Blake Tyson. Finally, a piece that non-percussionists would recognize as music. Lots of mallet instruments with bells and triangles to sound like stars, which was pretty effective.
- Rounders, Michael Burritt. I didn't stay for this one, but it looked like it was going to be solo marimba with lots of bass drums and tom toms. I was scared.
Not only do the players in the ensemble have to be prepared to play different instruments and objects, they have to be prepared to play different genres, in different formations, in different time signatures and with crazy mallet setups. Not only was I impressed by the sheer madness, which is typical, but the music really did sound good. Good job, you guys.
I think I'm ditching South Indian tomorrow because I have a lesson that I need to practice for. It's rained all day today and I didn't want to walk down to the practice rooms in the rain, not because I didn't want to get wet, but I didn't want wet mallets. Ew.
Here's that video:
Have a good Wednesday!
M
No comments:
Post a Comment