Gee, may I be positive for a change? I hope so!
The reeds worked. (Yes, I used more than one; I like to use a different reed for the middle act at least. I’d rather have three, but didn’t go for it today.) My Pesky Oboe™ worked (I’ll have to rename it, I suppose). And … well … I played well. At least I feel as if I played well. And all those low notes in the letter scene? There.
So now I’m home, and I’m relaxing and airing out the house (it got up to 90 degrees today). And I’m happy.
I’ve neglected to write about the singers from last night. I thought they were fantastic! I really love the new resident artists I’ve heard, even though we hear them from under the stage, where we are seated. As much as I didn’t care much for our old rehearsal hall, I loved doing the sitzprobes there so we could see and hear the singers so well. I miss that. But I do think they all sounded fantastic last night. The audience seemed quite enthusiastic as well.
And to try and be more positive, I do believe I played well, aside from the one moment of silence. And I am guessing people wouldn’t have noticed, as they are paying attention to Tatyana singing onstage.
The funny thing is that this morning I pulled out the reed I wound up using after the silent moment. I’m astounded it worked so well, because it sure isn’t happy now. This is the joy of oboing and reeds.
Message to reeds: “One day you’re in, and the next you’re out.”
Auf wiedersehen! Tchuß! It’s time to get myself ready for work. Or reedy for work. Or something.
In case you haven’t seen or heard any of this before. 🙂
This last part does bleed into the next act. Just so you know.
I just love this music. It’s not, for me at least, an easy opera. But if the oboe and reeds are functioning (!) it’s quite fun to play. Really. And I’m determined to enjoy today’s performance. I mean it.
If you want to see and hear the rest of the Met’s production go here to get the remaining acts.
Truly there would be reason to go mad were it not for music.
Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Is it foolish to blog about my failures? I wonder.
Just pondering. And thinking that oboists out there must think I’m one rotten and deficient player, while students will wonder why they heck they should study with me.
Of course mentioning it here only makes it worse, eh?
Honest. It’s what I like to be. But it probably does come back to bite me.
So I pulled out both oboes. They are working fine, and I still prefer not to use the RescueOboe™. I like the other one better, plain and simple.
But really … could it have “simply” been a rotten reed?!
I wonder. When I was working on the oboe yesterday I didn’t use the reed I planned on using for the opera. Instead I played some reeds that were fine, but not “The One”. Well, I thought I should play “The One” today. And it goes in and out. At least that’s what I think. It isn’t cracked, but I now see that the blades are slipping.
Sigh. Could it really have been something as stupid as that? Then I WILL be tremendously angry at myself.
Reeds are such a pain, you know?
So it’s back to both oboes in the pit, and I’ll be using another reed. Or two. Or three. We’ll see. And of course if there’s any question I’ll move to RescueOboe™ before a solo entrance.
I will still want to have the oboe looked at; no oboe should be as fussy as this one when it comes to adjustments. It’s crazy making, I tell you. And of course the top joint should seal better.
And now I’m done blogging about this. That’s crazy making too. And extremely boring for readers. I think I’m just processing through this blog, and I do apologize. The last thing you all need to read about is my insanity. 😎
(But if you are the praying sort, you could always pray me through this performance today. Really.)
Yes, I’m a bit sick to my stomach. And I’m sore! I think the OS™ (OboeStress™) really did a number on my body. Figures.
I’ll be spending this morning going over my RescueOboe™ so I’m more comfortable with it. (When you use a “second” instrument it can be very disconcerting). Meanwhile my stomach is just a mess, which is, I’m sure, all about stress.
This is a crazy business isn’t it? But no lives were lost. I didn’t injure anyone. And I’m guessing the majority of the audience didn’t even realize there was anything awry. Not that that matters … it’s the embarrassment in front of my colleagues and the imperfection of my performance that is so distressing. I can tell you when nothing would come out of the darn instrument the cold pit suddenly felt very, very warm.
I’m the sort who remembers nearly all of the negative and rarely remembers the positive. I remember all my mistakes, even from years and years ago. I don’t remember the good solos or the good reviews. It will take me at least a week to get this out of the very front of this thick skull, thought-wise. Then it’ll move to the back of the head and it’ll only haunt me in a minimal, handleable way.
If you read the blog entry right before this you see this sentence: “It wasn’t something that would cause me to be upset with myself.”
It’s 12:45 AM. I’m not asleep. Because I am upset with myself.
Sigh.
(And is someone in New York really reading oboeinsight right now? It’s 3:47 AM there. Yikes!)
