An Open House

My music program, Caleb Chapman Music, has an annual open house to promote auditioning and the casual gist of the program. Since I am a part of that program (and so proud to be), I had to play at the studio for an audience. We we able to ask non-members to jump up on the stage and play with us. Shockingly, the only person was a female trombone player in the eighth grade, which was really cool.

I managed to play with most of the bands, Including Voodoo Orchestra, Crescent Super Band, and Time Check. The horn swings in the Crescent Super Band was da bomb, and the trombone soli in La Quema Del Diablo was amazing. Voodoo Orchestra is the band I want to audition for next year with Bryan, Cameron, Molly, and Jake. If we were to all get in, it would be a party. (Caroleine, you need to audition for it!)

The Voodoo Orchestra at its finest

Image courtesy of Master Calender

The Voodoo Orchestra has recently played at the Apollo theater in New York on their tour in April this year. I think it was the other coolest tour for the Caleb Chapman musicians to go to on, other than the Crescent Super Band's trip to Cuba.  Next year, the Voodoo Orchestra gets an international tour of their own- to Ireland, England, and Scotland. Image the differences in the music we make and the music they make. There would certainly be a lot to learn about that culture on the other side of the world. 

After the open house, Little Big Band won an award at Best of State. The only other band that also had won an award was the Crescent Super Band. Bet you didn't see that coming. We played a lot more songs than usual, which was so much much fun! Unfortunately, we were not on TV like the Crescent Super Band. I've never experienced a big award like that before, and it was quite a shocker to see how nonchalant my band members were about the whole thing. I just loved performing so many songs and I really hope I get the chance to perform that much again.

I Hate You So Much, Bryan Croce

Despite the deceiving title, this is just a normal post about band concerts. I promise.

Yet again, it was concert week. First off, Little Big Band had a dress rehearsal. Then there was a
two-night band concert for jazz and classical. On the night of the Little Big Band concert, quite the surprising thing happened. It was all within one week that I had to learn over fifteen pieces of music, and improv in front of lots of people just when I recovered from being stupid.

Just look at how saucy this costume ensemble is

Thanks to Electrika

If you haven't noticed before, Little Big Band     wears the stupidest costumes ever. First off, we have to wear dress shoes, which are a killer to the stylish-in-sneakers people. Secondly, we have to wear black gangster fedoras. You might think that those hats are cool, but when it's so big it falls past your glasses... ugh. Thirdly.... no. Just- don't even- can't- no.

Yeah, that is one stylish potato sack, don't you think? Me, being the smallest in the band dressed like a masculine gangster with a slight sense of style, just didn't help my pride and dignity. Despite the fact that I just dissed my entire band's sense of style, I can't help the fact that I still have to wear it. However, I love wearing it. It's just a few nights every month that I sacrifice my tiny ego and barely-there sanity so I can put this on and become a jazz enthusiast with my bandmates without judgement, because let's face it, we all love people who perform in stupid costumes doing what they love and having the time of their lives while performing. The Zoot Suit is the best costume I've had to wear, and I enjoy every second even when I break my face tripping over the too-big pants.

During the dress rehearsal, we rehearsed the songs we would play at the concert. We ran through the music after fixing minor details like tuning and holes in the sound. Despite the fact that it was a dress rehearsal, it had to be perfect. We had less than a week for our performance, which wasn't unusual, but we were preforming new pieces. Croce had talked about how we should be prepared for this, but we were too excited to worry. 

Until. Croce. Ruined. It. After we played through everything, the director went through some hubjub with the rhythm section. I heard my name being called, but because of my hat, I couldn't see who was calling me. I decided that I was hallucinating, fixed my hat, and waited to play. It turns out I wasn't hallucinating, because Croce (bet you didn't see that coming) was calling my name. I gave him a puzzled face.

"Take a solo," He said. I shook my head and hat stubbornly.

"Do it," Came with a stern face. I gave him puppy eyes.

"Take a solo right now," I swear he was gonna kill me. 

So I raised my hand, very, very reluctantly, and asked for a solo. Of course, because the universe decided not to be on my side that day, the director gave me a solo. You know, soloing doesn't suck, except for that I suck at soloing. Jeez, you have to keep track of the the key changes, what scale you're supposed to play in, what notes you're not supposed to play, and time. Oh, and did I mention you actually have to play?

I hate you so much, Bryan Croce. I had to freaking struggle through a solo, thanks to you. And I was in a clown costume. So much for people taking me seriously. 

I actually don't hate you, I just want to have something to blame my poor solo on. Clown costumes are actually really cool, as shown above.

After the dress rehearsal came the school band concerts.  We had two nights of both classical and jazz music. Both concerts were pretty good, but I was as busy as an A student on finals week.  First off, the entire band played with other bands, only for one piece. Christmas Decloration was pretty good, but loud with everyone on the stage. Then, I rushed to another stage right after to preform some jazz. Satin Doll was up first, then Feliz Navidad. The lead alto pulled a pretty great solo on Feliz Navidad. After, the trombone quintet was up. We did. We played. No one died. Lastly, the band came back together for our concert pieces. We rocked Faeries and The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. Those pieces and more took place within two hours.

On the night of the Little Big Band concert I was called in to play with another band. I was filling in for the lead horn. No,  I didn't know the music, and it sucked. But even worse was the solo. The usual lead horn, who was absent, had a nice little 96 bar solo that he didn't tell me about. So I had to go play for what seemed like forever right in front of my directer who probably hates me now. Luckily, he liked the solo. 

The Little Big Band  concert went quite well, I must say.  We played tunes like Mr. Zoot Suit, of which my solo was on. It was a really great concert, which everyone in the room seemed to enjoy. I'm glad I've joined this band, because I know it will be a great experience for me musically and socially. Not to mention that it's really fun! 

Hey look, I'm not soloing on this one!

Two Band Concerts and a Solo in a Jazz Band

You'll never guess what happened a few weeks ago. An exciting, amazing, nerve-wracking experience that happens about five times a year.

IT WAS CONCERT WEEK.

Now, let me explain to you what that means. Since I am in two school-related bands, it means two concerts. Not the typical one-performance-and-then-we're-done concert, but two concerts with multiple compositions per band. There was three bands performing at each concert, and I had to sit through two performances both nights. One concert was for classical music, and the other was for jazz.

First up, classical. We worked really hard to pull this concert off. Or at least I did. The Symphonic Band would be second on stage, after the junior high band. We played pieces called  Abracadabra,  Dance of the Trolls, and Earthdance. We did not play as well as the rehearsals went, which is typical because of nerves and people and things. The band really only played Earthdance four or five times in rehearsal which was weird because after the piece was played, the director mouthed the word "awesome" which means we apparently, to his point of view, played it sort of well.

A few nights after the concert, there was Pep Band. The Pep Band was the last of the season, but it was still a good one. We played along with the director's hand signals and had a great time. Our school played against another football team we hadn't beaten for a while. Of course, we still lost to them, horribly, but it was fun to be up in the stands with my friends again. We pretty much stuffed Swedish Fish in our mouths and played our horns at the same time for majority of the game, which was an absolute blast.

A small cluster of the best pep band in all of the land

The second concert was the jazz concert. It was on Wednesday, October 29th, and I'll probably never forget it. It wasn't because my band played a good song, nor was it my first concert with them, but half of it was because of something I didn't even have a choice in. Concerts are usually what I look forward to, as everyone else does because that means our hard work and swollen embouchures are finally going to pay off. However, I was absolutely dreading this concert about two weeks before I would be on the stage.

My last class is my jazz ensemble class. Since my bus doesn't leave for ten minutes after the bell, I usually lag behind after everyone a little everyday. I would put away the chairs and the music stands, and compliment people on their playing. After, I would take apart my trombone, thank the director, and attempt to squeeze my ginormous instrument out the door an onto the bus. Out of the blue, on one spiffy day, the instructor decided to approach me. 

"Hey, you're planning on soloing in the concert right?"
"I don't know, I haven't really thought about it."

"Do you want a solo?"

"Uhhh... well, I don't know if I would be a good play--"

"It doesn't matter anyways, you're gonna solo. I wasn't gonna give you a choice."*
*I do not remember exactly what he said, I just remember the part about not having a choice in the soloing

My face:

To a person like you, you may think that being forced to do a solo is a great thing. By being forced, it might mean I'm good at playing trombone in a sort-of-maybe-sounding-good way. Playing an improv solo is definitely not anywhere close to sort-of-maybe-sounding-good. During the solo, I will have to drag my butt out of my chair, drag it to the front of the stage, and play into a microphone. Doesn't sound too hard, right?

Except for the fact that it's an improv solo. For all of you that don't know what improv means, it basically means to make up on the spot without practice. Yeah, and I have to do that in front of people. All week I practiced scales, just so I could play in the right key while performing stuff that I don't even know how to write down on a staff. While in class, the solos I played went okay, but the on-stage rehearsal was just crud.

On stage, I screwed up all of my playing during rehearsal. We had a small audience, witch threw my nerves off quite a lot. I couldn't reach notes and I forgot all of the accidentals. Plus, when my solo came, I dragged my butt to the wrong microphone. Not only that, but when the vibes were supposed to play, they didn't. So what did I do? I stood there, waiting for a cue, like an idiot. My directer stopped the the music, pointed to the vibes, and cued us off again. After that, I awkwardly dragged my butt off of the stage.

Just letting you know, this is the stage I play in front of people on

Image courtesy of Cisco

Then the concert night finally came. I put my jazz black on and put my horn in the car. It was absolutely terrifying. The drive to the concert was only about fifteen minutes, but it seemed like four days. I walked into the band room, which I have no idea how because my knees were shaking so much. As usual, I put my instrument together and talked with my friends. When I was warming up, I worked on my improv. I played a small phrase that consisted of nervous thirty-second notes and a high register. When I stopped, none of my friends seemed to care. Devon on the other hand, was proud.

"Did you guys not just hear that? She just LAID IT DOWN!"

Being the shaky bag of flesh and bones that I am, I laughed and high-fived Devon. I continued warming up, until the instructor told us the stage set.

After minutes of waiting, I was eventually on stage. I sat down in my lead chair and waited for a downbeat from the director. He came out and talked to the audience a bit, which did not make my spider-infested torso feel any better. After just about a little bit of forever passed, he turned around, gave a downbeat, and left the stage. We, as in me, were playing the chart pretty okay with only a few mishaps here and there. Then the director entered the stage again to cue my solo. 

As mentally prepared as I was (I wasn't), I dragged my vibrating and jumpy spider body to the mic at the front of the stage. I played a small tune, which thankfully ended up in key. Then I did a small bow, which from the audience it looked like I broke my leg. As I was walking back to my chair, the director gave me a small clap and a "Good Job" that made my limp facial muscles smile. The band burned through the rest of the charts, and we got off the stage.

When we walked back to the room, my friends Ryan, Max, Molly, and Amber all congratulated me on my solo. I guess it's a good thing to do something that scares you every once in a while. It leaves you with the ability to do something greater than you ever though you could.