Sometimes I wonder about my lineage. Not really where I came from as far as parents and relatives go, since I'm adopted and that's kind of difficult to figure out, but my oboe family tree. Both of my teachers are really, really fantastic--and they've been taught by some pretty phenomenal teachers to make them the players and teachers that they are today.
I was talking about this with my friends Stephen (who writes a really excellent woodwind blog), and we realised that though we've never studied under the same teacher, parts of our oboe family trees overlap. We thought this was pretty cool. Below, I have mapped out my family trees and connections. Enjoy!
My Family Tree--the oboe version
Me > Adrian Gnam > Marcel Tabuteau (the year before he died) and John Mack
Me > Paige Morgan > Richard Killmer
Oddly enough, when I visited Eastman and met Killmer, he told me to "tell Adrian I said hi!"
Funny, how the music world is large and small simultaneously.
5.27.2010
5.20.2010
For musicians: that brief moment when you think "why the HELL do I do this?!?"
My roommate and I were having a conversation a few days before the end of exams. We were both stressed out, worn down, exhausted, overworked, and any other adjective that goes along with being a music major during finals. Such times of stress get you to thinking: Why do I do this to myself? Is all of this work even worth it? And if I succeed, what am I getting myself into?
I sat there for a few seconds, curled in a fleece blanket in my desk chair, just thinking. Why DO I do this? Wouldn't a career in something else be more stable? Wouldn't I go to bed knowing all that work would be worth something?
These thoughts lasted less than three seconds.
I believe that any good musician plays music because they have to, because it's in them and it's so ingrained that they can't do anything else. A real musician strives to put himself/herself into the music in every breath they take. A real musician does this because it's who they are. They are, to use a slight cliche', one with the music.
We all got into music for some reason or another, and those of us who stayed probably didn't get into it for the sole reason of "my mother forced me to take piano" or "it was something to do in high school, so I joined band." Those of use who have chosen to do this with our lives do it because music is our way of communicating, of expressing what we feel without words. We take the music someone else has written, use their intent as a guideline, and make the music our own. My hope is that the listener hears both my intent and the composer's and makes the music personal. That's why I do what I do. That's what makes all of these hours that I could have been spending socialising or...whatever non-music majors do with their time (seriously, I honestly don't know right now) worth it. It makes my complete lack of job security okay, because the music is in me and I have to do it.
Now...there are certain personality types that are drawn into being musicians. I'd say that generally we are the misunderstood, artsy, half-crazy ones that are drawn in to spending hours of our lives in a five by five room trying to nail down that passage in La Scala di Seta. I think most of us probably turned to music because it was our way of being understood. The world around us was unrelenting and we found solace, found happiness in music. I think a lot of us who love to perform do it because it's the only way we knew that we could stand out and become known.
I speak for myself mostly, but I'm taking a stab at the general music community. We, as musicians, are needy people. We're artists. We need people to appreciate the beauty in life and the beauty we create. To a degree, we need their approval. We feed off of it. We feed off of pressure and unhappiness and bring it into our music, the rawest illustration of ourselves, and we look to our audience for approval. As performers, that's who we are. Part of the reason we play music is so we can gain that approval we need.
I think that when you grow as a person, you grow equally as a musician. Over the past year, my music-making has become less about "don't you like me" and more about putting myself into what's written on this page in front of me. I hope that in my life as a performing musician I can touch someone with music the way that countless oboists have touched my ears and heart and mind. I won't lie--I still secretly like the attention I get from a solo well-played, even though praise embarrasses the hell out of me.
We play music because we have to. Because we need to communicate--and we need people to hear it.
I sat there for a few seconds, curled in a fleece blanket in my desk chair, just thinking. Why DO I do this? Wouldn't a career in something else be more stable? Wouldn't I go to bed knowing all that work would be worth something?
These thoughts lasted less than three seconds.
I believe that any good musician plays music because they have to, because it's in them and it's so ingrained that they can't do anything else. A real musician strives to put himself/herself into the music in every breath they take. A real musician does this because it's who they are. They are, to use a slight cliche', one with the music.
We all got into music for some reason or another, and those of us who stayed probably didn't get into it for the sole reason of "my mother forced me to take piano" or "it was something to do in high school, so I joined band." Those of use who have chosen to do this with our lives do it because music is our way of communicating, of expressing what we feel without words. We take the music someone else has written, use their intent as a guideline, and make the music our own. My hope is that the listener hears both my intent and the composer's and makes the music personal. That's why I do what I do. That's what makes all of these hours that I could have been spending socialising or...whatever non-music majors do with their time (seriously, I honestly don't know right now) worth it. It makes my complete lack of job security okay, because the music is in me and I have to do it.
Now...there are certain personality types that are drawn into being musicians. I'd say that generally we are the misunderstood, artsy, half-crazy ones that are drawn in to spending hours of our lives in a five by five room trying to nail down that passage in La Scala di Seta. I think most of us probably turned to music because it was our way of being understood. The world around us was unrelenting and we found solace, found happiness in music. I think a lot of us who love to perform do it because it's the only way we knew that we could stand out and become known.
I speak for myself mostly, but I'm taking a stab at the general music community. We, as musicians, are needy people. We're artists. We need people to appreciate the beauty in life and the beauty we create. To a degree, we need their approval. We feed off of it. We feed off of pressure and unhappiness and bring it into our music, the rawest illustration of ourselves, and we look to our audience for approval. As performers, that's who we are. Part of the reason we play music is so we can gain that approval we need.
I think that when you grow as a person, you grow equally as a musician. Over the past year, my music-making has become less about "don't you like me" and more about putting myself into what's written on this page in front of me. I hope that in my life as a performing musician I can touch someone with music the way that countless oboists have touched my ears and heart and mind. I won't lie--I still secretly like the attention I get from a solo well-played, even though praise embarrasses the hell out of me.
We play music because we have to. Because we need to communicate--and we need people to hear it.
5.11.2010
Debugging my JavaScript at 3am...
Here's why I'm a computer science minor and not a computer science major (you know, aside from being unable to live without music): Debugging my JavaScript at 3am.
It took me three hours, staring at that one document, wondering what the hell I did wrong, going back through the book and trying to troubleshoot my own problem. Turns out...I forgot a space. I guess that's what happens when you spend nine hours coding your fraternity's webpage...in one day. Because you made it your final.
It took me three hours, staring at that one document, wondering what the hell I did wrong, going back through the book and trying to troubleshoot my own problem. Turns out...I forgot a space. I guess that's what happens when you spend nine hours coding your fraternity's webpage...in one day. Because you made it your final.
5.06.2010
Hi, I'd like to place an order for eight extra hours in the day...
Oh, it's that time of the year, meaning that I just realised that I have my sophomore proficiency jury, the Lambda chapter of Mu Phi Epsilon's website to write for computer science, a busywork final (meaning Intro to Music Technology) and quiz, a theory composition (finally done), a theory final, a piano exam, and a music history final. Oh, and a sight-singing dictation exam and a sight-singing hearing. And practicing.
I don't see how sleep is supposed to fit in here.
Plus, the weather keeps changing. One day it's 80 and beautiful; the next day it rains and is in the mid 40s. My reeds hate me. It's so mind-boggling how a simple change in humidity can make a reed flatten into a pancake or widen enough to let an elephant through (well, a very small elephant). And don't get me started on oboes and temperature...
I play a finicky instrument.
In other news, I have discovered that it is possible to make a decent oboe recording using GarageBand...if you have a very large room that is very quiet and turn the recording volume down almost all the way and use a trumpet filter. After about six hours of recording, I have a pretty decent track of Ferling 8 and the first movement of Vaughan Williams...all for a summer music festival that is desperate for oboists. They accepted me via resume', and this summer I will be studying with the assistant principle oboist of the Philadelphia Orchestra. How's that for nifty? And odd! On the bright side, it gets me out of Georgia for a portion of the summer.
And in the rush to catch up on sleep now, before the finals madness begins, I leave you with one new ushering quote:
(man tries to walk into the concert hall while Wind Ensemble is playing the Mozart Serenede)
Me: I'm sorry, you can't go in right now.
Him: Why?
Me: They're playing.
Him: I know. That's why I want to go in.
I then politely explained concert rules and resisted the urge to facepalm.
I don't see how sleep is supposed to fit in here.
Plus, the weather keeps changing. One day it's 80 and beautiful; the next day it rains and is in the mid 40s. My reeds hate me. It's so mind-boggling how a simple change in humidity can make a reed flatten into a pancake or widen enough to let an elephant through (well, a very small elephant). And don't get me started on oboes and temperature...
I play a finicky instrument.
In other news, I have discovered that it is possible to make a decent oboe recording using GarageBand...if you have a very large room that is very quiet and turn the recording volume down almost all the way and use a trumpet filter. After about six hours of recording, I have a pretty decent track of Ferling 8 and the first movement of Vaughan Williams...all for a summer music festival that is desperate for oboists. They accepted me via resume', and this summer I will be studying with the assistant principle oboist of the Philadelphia Orchestra. How's that for nifty? And odd! On the bright side, it gets me out of Georgia for a portion of the summer.
And in the rush to catch up on sleep now, before the finals madness begins, I leave you with one new ushering quote:
(man tries to walk into the concert hall while Wind Ensemble is playing the Mozart Serenede)
Me: I'm sorry, you can't go in right now.
Him: Why?
Me: They're playing.
Him: I know. That's why I want to go in.
I then politely explained concert rules and resisted the urge to facepalm.
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