oboeinsight

Yesterday afternoon the reed I was using on Mozart’s Prague Symphony felt absolutely wonderful. “YES!” I thought, “I’ve found it, and it’s a keeper.”

Tonight it decided to cause me to worry and fret. It still works, but it just doesn’t feel like it did yesterday. What does it mean? Weather problems? Or is it cracked in a way that doesn’t appear yet?

Ugh.

These are the times I start thinking “Hmmm. I wonder what a “normal” job would feel like. I doubt I’d worry if my pens and pencils didn’t feel quite right.”

Some jobs are just jobs. This thing I do … it’s an ever-changing adventure.

At least I have no migraine today, though. So there’s a bit ‘o sunshine along with the little cloud of worry.
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As anyone who reads classical music blogs knows, folks are often talking about how to get new listeners into the halls, and how to break down the “wall” between the audience and the stage. Some suggest shorter programs. Some suggest adding visuals to the concert. Some say we need to rethink how we program—perhaps not playing an entire symphony but only a movement or two, or maybe adding things like movie soundtracks, along with other suggestions. Some suggest we leave our formal clothing at home.

After our last Symphony Silicon Valley set some patrons wrote to say they were dissatisfied with the way some of our musicians dressed; we looked less dressed up than they thought we should look.

I doubt we’ll never satisfy everyone. Trouble is, those that already attend concerts are guaranteed attendees (as long as we dress nicely) and, usually, contributors. The “unknown” are the new and, we hope, younger concert goers. If it’s anything like my old church the older folks give the most money, and the younger donate very little but have strong opinions about how things should be done and demand the most.
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(And read the quote below if you don’t know why I’m saying “more”!)

It’s back to bed with me. The migraine, which is normally gone after I sleep through the night, feels as if it wants to reappear … it’s “lurking” just behind the eyes and I can feel it saying “Pick me! Pick me!”, being the 3rd grader who has all the answers but annoys every other school child in the class.

Hmmm.

Maybe that’s a bad metaphor. But it’s my migraine metaphor, and this is my party and I’ll use it if I want to, so there you go.
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