reality check

This evening, at intermission, a woman and her child leaned over the pit and got my attention. The mother asked me how I got where I am, because her child had always wanted to play in shows. It got me thinking.

I replied with the only true answer there is: well, there is no path to get here. Its 50% talent and 50% who you know. I lied really. Its 20% talent and 80% who you know, at least its that to break in to the business.

The kid seemed startled a bit, I guess. Then I gave more concrete answers, like "we all went to school for music." That pleased the mother a bit more. The child was studying music some in school, but wasn't majoring in it. Red flag #1. I didn't want to go all music school snob on them, but I wanted to explain that all the time on the kid's major is time that could be spent practicing or getting out into the business.

I don't want to give this kid's life story, but it was an interesting moment for me. I truly didn't want to dash the kid's dreams, but I also couldn't just let the kid dream away. The mom and the kid kept talking about how music was the child's passion, which is great and all, but I've come to learn that passion isn't everything. I used to feel that being passionate made me entitled to my dreams and that is not the case! Being passionate is what makes you an artist. Being a good musician and performer comes from hard work, HOURS of practice, and more luck than any person can fathom.

I know I didn't successfully impart this to the child, because they left with eyes beaming with excitement. But is that so bad? I played my solo in Act 2 for this kid (i choose someone every night, it gives me inspiration) and hoped that their dreams would come true, or that they would find something else that made them happier. I guess that's what's scary about dreaming, or rather, getting attached to your dreams, aka becoming passionate about something. It almost sets you up for failure. Though, it is often the dream that makes reality so sweet. So, to that child I met today: keep dreaming.

listen up

things to listen for when YOU see the show: Lawrence Clayton's riffs. JVJ has never sounded so hip.

define "formidable"

The joys of press opening include two very important things:
1. a swanky party.
2. reviews.

So, here's the BIG review:
"an unquestionably spectacular production from start to finish, complete with a formidable 14-piece orchestra." NY Times

I don't want to go all AP English on you, but humor me. Let's define "formidable."
1. causing fear, apprehension, or dread
2. of discouraging or awesome strength, size, difficulty, etc.; intimidating
3. arousing feelings of awe or admiration because of grandeur, strength, etc.
4. of great strength; forceful; powerful
I truly hope the Times is not intending either of the first two when they employ this word. Let's assume they're going with numbers 3 or 4. Though I don't know, musicians are the first people I think of causing fear, apprehension, or dread...just saying.

Thing to listen for when YOU see the show: (i've been behind on these, so here are two to make up)
1. On My Own. All of it. Especially the final verse into the climax of the song. If you're really good, listen for the unison string line on the verse "I love him, but when the night is over." When we split from unison into our own parts, its my favorite moment of the show.
2. Listen for the roto tom licks in At the End of the Day. The number sounds like a rock song, amazing.

catching up.

a few thoughts from the past several days:

1. The boss is in town this week. Can we say nerve-racking?

2. A couple nights ago the ENTIRE string section missed an entrance, leaving a large hole in the middle of In My Life. We send our apologies to Cosette, we left her hanging.

3. Not being able to turn left is getting irritating. And I would like to pump my own gas. Thank you, New Jersey.

4. Inside jokes have started forming in the pit. Amazing.

5. We open tomorrow. YES. Tomorrow. Do you hear the people sing?

Things to listen for when YOU see the show: the cello solo at the end of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables. heartbreaking.

going green.

We all know those people who give 110% ALL the time when they perform. Typically they're actors and after they perform a number, we whisper to those around us, "yeah...they won't make it through a show..." Well, I'm one of "those people." When I play, I pour 110% of myself into my instrument, and while this is romantic and all, doing it for a 3 hour show is painful and damaging. For the past several days, I've ended each rehearsal/run feeling like I've been hit by a truck and the pain is just as bad when I wake up in the morning. (ah yes, the glamorous life of a violist...)

That being said, it's time to learn how to pace myself. It's time to discover ways to give 60% and make it sound like 110%. Energy conservation is big right now in the world, so it's time to go green. Ha, it's time to go green with my viola playing.

In other news, we open for previews today! The show is spectacular and has already been an amazing experience.

Things to listen for when YOU see the show: The string playing in A Heart Full of Love. Not my favorite song, but the orchestration is fabulous.

master of the house?

First two days of rehearsal down, many hours of stretching to go... Playing for 7 hours a day really gets to you, especially when you play for the entire show.

Last night was an adventure. It involved going to a bar with some of the creatives, but this isn't an ordinary bar. Oh no, think Thenardier's Inn, at least that's what we deemed it. Seriously, basement of a house converted into a bar. Yes. That's how classy things are here. Though, while the night was truly bizarre, it did include a fantastic game of shuffleboard, which I lost to the director. I guess I should try to keep my job? maybe. oh and it also included a very drunk, middle-aged local who was living up to the Thenardier standard quite well.

Today's a day off. So, NYC it is. Time for an afternoon in the pit of Addams.


Things to listen for when YOU see the show: after all the students die, listen for the oboe playing Bring Him Home. Its to die for. (these might become regulars on the blog, stay tuned.)

Day 1: Thrown in the deep end.

Arrived yesterday afternoon. Let's just say I was thrown in the deep end real fast. As overwhelming as it was, let's hope it happens more often.

First rehearsal today. Official first day of real life.

More details later.

a necessity: the blog

Apparently, the second most common thing people ask when you tell them you're going on tour (after, of course, how long will you be gone?) is "so you're going to keep a blog, right?" Note the wording: it is not "are you going to," rather its "you're going to, right?" So, here it is. 

Here's to going on the road with a suitcase, a backpack, and...a viola. 

Stay tuned for the many adventures of 8 shows a week of Les Miserables. Rehearsals start in a few days, so its practice time.

Later.