I rammed my oboe reed into the wall and the top 1 cm is all chipped and frayed. The sound is electronica like?
and its not the usual tone but is in tune but all the notes don t sound regular. I can t buy new reeds and the other 3 are stubborn and flat. I just got the reed and i accidentally rammed it into the wall
… um … seriously? Does someone think there is a cure to this problem? Or maybe this site I landed on is a fake site. It happens ….
I don’t know the show but … once again, oboe as a college entrance key. Hah!
Back at home, Sue is trying to come up with new ways to get noticed on her college application. She’s trying to learn the oboe, because she read on the Internet that colleges LOVE students that play the oboe, and the Internet is always right.
Fun fact I learned during this episode—a poorly played oboe kind of sounds like a dying cat.
From something called The Middle, whatever that is.
I read it here.
Excerpt from Sonata No. 3, movement 2 by Handel for Alto Sax (but I’m playing oboe)
Who KNEW that Handel wrote that for sax?! Wow. ;-)
I think there’s an aspect of him inspired by Dudamel. Dudamel came up through a youth system (Venezuela’s El Sistema), and we liked the idea that [TV show character name] didn’t come up from privilege.
Hm. I’m wondering if people think most musicians “come up from privilege”. I know I didn’t. Of course I’m no Dudamel! I will readily admit that I’m not as talented, not at all famous, and not, at this point, as wealthy as he must currently be.
But really, how many wealthy people do you know who opted for a career in music? I know there are some, but …? Granted, coming into music from an extremely poor position is rare as well, since acquiring and instrument and taking lessons can be rather costly.
But no, I didn’t come from wealth: my father was a middle school teacher, my mother a stay-at-home mom, and they raised four children in a home that is smaller than the one in which I currently live with only one other person (although we did raise our three kids in this place). Of course I readily admit that growing up in the US is, in so many ways, a life of privilege for so many compared to so much of the rest of the world.
But here’s the thing: I love my job.
It’s a privilege.
I have permission to post this (thank you, Kyle Lawson), and anyone in this area can probably name at least three groups here that have been dealt the death blow. I think this is something well worth reading. (I read it on Facebook):
It is Dec. 19, 2014. The apocalypse came today. It was limited in scope; only one theater company was involved. But that was Actors Theatre. Thirty years of priceless work. Thirty years of memories that will fade.
The ground between the rock and the hard place is not fertile for the arts. Actors Theatre thrived there longer than most. But live theater comes with a hefty price. More than we were willing to pay. The work was never less than excellent, just as often it was superlative. Yet there were empty seats. The wallets of potential donors remained closed.
These are not good days for our country. We are beset by enemies without and within. Ideology rages, compassion wanes. We proclaim ourselves a religious nation, unaware of the irony that our lives are ruled by greed and bigotry, a travesty of our creed.
Art is the enemy of such ignorance. Why would the ideologists support it? An enlightened electoral base, a knowledgeable consumer community are dangerous. They are not easily led. Brainwashing is almost impossible.
Art is a second opinion. Invaluable. Destroy it.
One cannot blame Actors Theatre for its closing. If there is no money, there is no money. Artists must live, suppliers must be paid. The board and the company’s leaders, Matthew Wiener and Erica McKibbern Black, went beyond the extra mile.
One cannot blame the wealthy, either. Where would this community be without the Herbergers and their fellow philanthropists? Or the support that the municipalities have lent, if sometimes begrudgingly?
It is we who have changed. We no longer seem to care that our children are growing up intellectually and emotionally stunted. We no longer fight for what we believe. We let others vote. We let the media define our existence.
Actors Theater is just one casualty. There will be many more.
Until none are left to die.
For me this is a bit of a “Think again, girl”, kind of post. I tend to blame the wealthy individuals and companies who don’t support the arts. But we normal folk. Do we care? I wonder!
I have more to write (and I did), but being as I’m in a negative sort of mood right now I’m just going to leave this here. For now. Maybe forever. We’ll see!
And who knew that an oboe was such an appealing instrument, with its clear, warm, penetrating sound. Oboist Robin Tropper delivered the musical magic that this instrument can deliver with his skillful playing, not only in his pre-concert and intermission performances along with guitarist Gary King but also when he accompanied the Ladies Chorus and other performers during certain songs in the concert. These included “All on a Cold Winter’s Night” with the Ladies Chorus and “O Come All Yet Faithful” in a mass performance complete with audience participation.
First of all, congratulations to Robin Tropper, whom I’ve had the delight of meeting at the past two IDRS conventions.
But c’mon now: “…who knew that an oboe was such an appealing instrument”??
I thought everyone knew that.
Found it here.