Trombones and Julie Andrews

Three little quotes today, one from Doc and two from Maestro. We'll go in that order.

So...there was this wind ensemble piece...much like any other...with a trombone lick...that wasn't being played...(much like usual). And Doc had this to say about it:

"Blow that out because you're the only thing in town right now!"

Apparently, our wind ensemble rehearsals no longer take place merely in the little broken down building on campus, but instead, we are the only musicians in the entire town! lol.

Then, with Maestro, way back in February, when we were still practicing Sound of Music (this is actually slightly appropriate even at so late a date, because we are doing a run-out performing of Sound of Music this weekend. Yay!), there was a piece that was in cut time, which is 2/2. Two beats per measure, half notes get the beat.

A student asked Maestro, "What beat is the fermata on?"

And Maestro immediately replied, "Beat 4."

Wha?! (remember, cut time = only 2 beats per minute. Where did the extra two beats come from? :-/)


Later on in the same rehearsal, Maestro messed up a meter change, and the group just fell apart. But instead of shaming us or correcting himself, he merely crumpled up the piece of music paper!

"Take THAT Roger and Hammerstein*!"

I really hope that was a copy and that we won't have to pay royalties back on the damage...

Hobey-ho!

*Roger composed the music and Hammerstein wrote lyrics for some of the most loved musicals/movies such as Sound of Music, The King and I, Oklahoma!, and Cinderella. They are often referred to as the men who initiated the Golden Age of musical theatre. Together they generated over 34 Tony Awards, 15 Academy Awards, the Pulitzer Price and 2 Grammys.

Doctionary

Doctionary - like the Chiptionary, only with Doc, and the Chiptionary is like the Dictionary, only Chip's version.

Chip was the handbell choir director at the church, the man who taught me basically everything I know about handbells and whom I took over the groups from when his health got bad. He has this funny way of twisting words, adding lots of -ossinations and who knows what else. Nobody has figured out how he comes up with this stuff, but we call it the Chiptionary. I think Doc has caught the fever.

Back in March (I know, I'm so behind. I write stuff down at least 3x a week but I don't have time to blog about them, or I want to get enough of them to survive the summer drought...so yeah...forgive me on the slow updates here), Doc was rehearsing a piece, of course, what else do we do in wind ensemble? haha. Anyway...he unexpectedly added to the Chiptionary:

"What did we learn here horns, huh? You hold that half note all the way to beat three. Way too much gapossinationing!"

I about fell out of my seat trying not to laugh. I don't think Doc realized who he's stealing that from, but it made me all the more happy. I told Chip about it when I saw him a few weeks ago, and he was either pleased to have his legacy continue, or completely flabbergasted about how Doc came up with that one.

Good times.

Or, in another example, Doc uses the special instrument talk, that only certain musicians understand. Say, for instance, if you said "Use the pancake!" Most people would assume you were talking about those fluffy little circles of deliciousness that go with any topping and any meal of the day - especially when it's your grandmother's secret handed-down-for-generations recipe of AWESOMENESS (Sorry, I have a pure Southern Grandmother who's cooking is better than Paula Dean's, just as unhealthy, but whose ingredients must never be shared outside the family. I miss home. *sigh*) - and wondering how on earth a pancake could help you get out of a music problem. However, if you told me, a bassoonist, to "Use the pancake!" I would automatically know you were talking about the smooth right thumb key that is like a large circle, which we call the pancake key (It's also known as the E key, but I mean come on, how boring is that? I'd much rather think about food every time I handle my instrument. YUM.).

However, Doc was talking to the trumpets this time, not to me, sadly. XD

"Not bwah bwah bwah *hand motion of two jellyfish separating horizontally*. Throw darts on that! You're playing on a what, Bach 5 1/2? Play like you're on a Bach 7 instead." Most of the students gave him a quizzical look. What on earth was he talking about?

But instead of explaining, Doc just qualified his choice: "This is the language he understands, guys."

Aside: for the record, Bach whatever-numbers are well-known trumpet mouthpieces. The numbers and letters refer to elements of the mouthpiece that effect not only the ease to which a sound can be produce, but also the type of sound typically produced. The lower numbers tend to be best for beginners and they allow for ease of sound production, but should be replaced quickly whenever a student's embouchure (mouth position) strengthens as the produced tone is usually weak. The highest number, 7, is the deepest, which, according to a mouthpiece guide, "produces a colorful, liquid tone which is uniform over the entire scale." It tends to be the most focused and gives the greatest range in volume, which was assuredly what Doc was referring to in his minor berate. Obviously, depending on the instrument and your individual style of playing, whatever number works best for your instrument to give you the most preferred sound and tone is the mouthpiece you should use. I only know what little I do because of my lovely Brass Methods course where I learned to play the trumpet and the trombone (and the tromboon, yay!). Thanks Doc. :-)

And for the final quote of the day, we go back to a lovely February moment.

Sometimes, when Doc doesn't feel like using the Chiptionary, or the instrument language, he just creates his own.

He was talking to the suspended cymbal player.

"Let it scoutch a little more."

Yes, scoutch. It was like a mix between scootch like "scootch over on the couch, will ya?" and the dipthong "Ow" with that o-u sound.

Doc thought for a moment. "Scoutch. Like, let it ring, yeah."

And all I could think of was, "Scoutch? Always wanted a scoutch."

Hobey-ho!

Easter Drag

Yes, I'm two days late. Doc actually had all of this to say on Monday. Hey, grad school and three jobs plus rehearsals keep me busy, alright? Alright.

So as usual, we start rehearsal with a little warm up and then tune the group. Usually we do an A to the woodwinds, an F to the brass, and a Bflat for the whole group, bottom to top. But apparently Doc wanted to switch it up...and we paid no heed. "Let's have a tuning note, bottom to top." *tunes* "Okay now an A to the woodwinds."

Students "Uh...that was an A."

Doc "Oh it was? I'm sorry. *smirks* You think you're smart, eh? Well since you've already had an A, an A to the woodwinds just in case."

He should know better than to change M.O.'s after four years (or five+ for several of us, haha).

We proceeded to work on a piece called Sanctuary, and Doc had this to say when we finished a section: "It's close...it's sleepy. It's the Monday after Easter is what it is. You've got the 'Don't make me do anything hard today' look."

I think it's probably pointless to mention that he did not allow us to stay on "easy" stuff that rehearsal, or any other, for that matter. But breaks always have the same effect. Christmas normally a lot of us perform at our home churches or whatever, so it's not so bad. But Thanksgiving, Spring break, oh and especially summer! If we're not actively practicing our craft, you do not even want to know what those first few rehearsals back sound like. Doc probably goes home cringing and wondering how on earth he'll manage a band playing elementary school bad. :-(

Don't get me wrong, elementary school bands and orchestras do amazing things for how little musical study they've had. But by the time you're in college...there's really no excuse, especially if you're a Music Major.

We didn't even take off for the Easter Holiday is the sad thing, however. Most of us played for any number of church services. I even showed up to the Sunrise service on Sunday just to hear the brass ensemble. 7am is a small price to pay to see Doc blast it out on the coronet (usually he plays french horn). There's something wholly satisfying about seeing your professors strut their musical prowess (or lack thereof, as sometimes happens). It really gives you confidence to know you're studying from the best. And even when they mess up (hey, nobody's perfect!), it just helps you figure out that no matter how great at your instrument you get, there's always something else to discover and new mistakes to learn from (or just get over. lol).

Okay...and if I'm honest...it's a total ego-stroke when your professors mess up. *maniacal laughter* It's almost like payback for all of the scales and crazy fingerings and ridiculously fast runs that you've practiced over and over and over with that stupid uncompromising metronome beeping it's two-tone pitch at high-volume decibels for hours until your lips bruise and your fingers bleed (then turn into calluses you could never hope to get rid of) and you hear the passages in your nightmares and your fingers itch for an instrument and you've practically memorized it by now, only to discover that there's now something harder to learn, or that the piece is cut from the repertoire, or worse yet, that nobody can even hear you! *breathe* (sorry about the run-on sentence, I was on a roll!)

Yes...that is the life of a musician. Driving yourself crazy in the never-ending quest for perfection. And loving every minute of it.

Hobey-ho!

Only Pencil, Never Pen

Back in February, we were once again in band rehearsal with Doc, and throughout the course of one of the pieces, he commented on the way in which he wanted us to play the previous passage. Something probably along the lines of dynamics or articulation, or perhaps that he would be conducting it in two rather than four.

This is something that, in general, should be written in. Now to be fair, sometimes I don't write things in - especially if they deal with musicality - because as a musician of nearly 19 years, I feel like I should do them instinctively by using my ear and matching the group as a whole. Or, sometimes I'm already doing it, because Doc's conducting style is quite possibly the clearest I've ever worked with, so it's really not psychic palm reading guesses in order to figure out what he wants from us. You know, there's this silly little known thing called watching the conductor that tends to solve any problems. (No seriously. Because then, if you mess up but were following them, it literally can't be your fault! Though most of the time I keep that to myself, unless it's an unexpected meter change or something that's confusing. Insulting your conductor's intelligence or work is rarely beneficial. Just trust me on that one. *shudders from bad memories*) Who knew?

But I digress. Regardless, apparently nobody was responding to the fact that Doc had just given us valuable musical advice. So he looked down at us from the podium with this look between dismay and amusement and said,

"At least pretend to write something in to make me feel better."

We started snickering quietly and I picked up my pencil to scribble it out of respect.

Except as usual, it's not always what Doc first says, but his addendums that are the sugar crystals in your Life cereal. "And if you do write it in, we'll only have to go over it 20 times instead of 40! Love that. Read it in some band director's handbook somewhere."

Thanks for sharing all your secrets, Doc.

Does anyone know the handbook he's referring to or will I only discover it once they try to pounce on me for copyright infringement? (which, really, is only the sincerest form of flattery...)

Good thing I'm taking notes. ;-)

(Also...plus 10 points to anyone who can tell me what I'm always referencing in my closing here ->)

Hobey-ho!

Music Connections

Now if you've paid attention, you might notice that all of the previous posts were all published on the same day, and yet mention other times (especially the Valentine's one). Don't be confused. I had originally started this blog on another website and then a friend graciously brought me into 2012 by gently reminding me that the previous site was rarely used by anyone anymore. This site is also more customizable anyway, so it all works out for the best.

But with that out of the way, let's go back into my rehearsal notes on my phone. These two little snippets will feature the orchestra conductor (we'll call him Maestro), rather than Doc.

We were working on the Sound of Music at the time, and in rehearsal without the singers, Maestro began singing the words slightly under his breath to give us a better idea of where we were in the music (when all you're playing is the underscore whole notes, it is quite easy to get lost without any melody, especially for musicals) . I'm sure you all know the tune, "My Favorite Things." (If you don't, shame on you. Anything live is obviously better, but at the same time, not enough praise can be given to the Julie Andrews masterpiece that you can pick up literally anywhere in DVD/Blu-Ray and possibly even VHS if you look hard enough. No excuses!) Except that Maestro had a little episode of what I like to call "verbal dyslexia" and the words of the verse became "Whiskles on klittens." We almost fell apart in the middle of the song. And that's hard to do on whole notes!

To be fair though, got to give the man some credit. As I've discovered during some of my own rehearsals, it's not near as easy to be a conductor as most people think! At a bell choir rehearsal a few weeks ago, a player was missing and I decided to take one of her bells that the other ladies couldn't cover. So here I was, conducting the piece with the baton in my right hand, yelling out measure numbers in between counting out loud and commenting on other individual's playing, plus trying to find the one random note I was supposed to be contributing! Let me tell you, I messed up several measure numbers that I called out, and more often than not, discovering I'd missed the note only afterwards when I tried to fuss at someone else for missing it. Ah, conductor's problems. XD

Later on, Maestro began telling us about an opportunity to view a local philharmonic's rehearsal and a student asked "Can we bring people?"

Maestro: "I'll check on that. Probably we'll have some space for your music lovers." He paused as the realization of what he'd said sank in, and then quickly corrected himself  with a stutter. "That would be friends who are musicians, not your lovers, unless they're one and the same."

Students: *awkward turtle*

You know how it goes, Hobey-ho!

Band Director Twitter Feed

I didn't write this,  but I found it and it definitely deserves a mention here. For any musicians who loves comics (or just love laughing, for that matter), they should really check out both Tone Deaf Comics, Odd Quartet Comics and Tales from Band Camp Comics. The link I'm posting today is from the former: http://www.tonedeafcomics.com/a-band-directors-class-time-twitter-feed/


I promise I will update some wonderful quotes from my own director soon, but I'm off to work right now. We had two concerts this weekend (one broadcasted on television!) so there's a bit of catching up to do all the way around. Enjoy, my music friends!


Hobey-ho!

So Many Levels of Wrong

More rehearsal notes!


I was writing them down on a legal pad, but it was taking too long and I was having a hard time reading my scribbles, plus it looked pretty rude, so I'm now imputing them into the notepad on my droid, which can be hidden behind my music stand. teeheehee.


At the beginning of this month (I know I'm behind. He really does say awesome things just about every rehearsal, which is 3x a week, but I don't always have time to post. Especially since we had the musical this weekend, meaning the 2 dress rehearsals were the week before, and each run-through took around 4-5 hours. Seriously DRAINING. Love the musical, and the cast and orchestra did great, we had an amazing turn-out, but we in the orchestra are so under-appreciated. You just want to do your part and go home. We shouldn't have to be there when they're not ready to run it. They hadn't worked with props, set changes, costume changes, over half the characters didn't know their lines...we pulled it together for the performances, but the dress rehearsals were a MESS.), Doc was giving one of the percussionists a hard time, but quickly recanted. "Poor guy's played snare drum all his life and now he's having to figure out chimes. It's like whack-a-mole, and they aren't even moving!"


*insert vision of moles popping out the top of the chimes*


Then later on, he gave us a strict commandment: "Thou shalt not leave giant spaces on bar lines! Fill in the silence guys!" We were really at fault with that one.


But of course, the trumpets needed attention all on their own. Whatever chord they were supposed to be playing, nobody could hear. Our ears were merely bleeding. Doc had this to say about it: ""Hard enough to get 2 trumpets in orchestra in tune, and now you've got 6 relatively proficient players..." I'm not sure if he was insulting the trumpets, or letting them off...relatively proficient?!


We ended the rehearsal with a section of a piece that was really soft and poignant, and suddenly we heard a crash symbol. *face palm* Doc looks over to the player, a new freshman girl and she says "Was that wrong?" 


Immediately, Doc replied, "On so many levels!"


There was no coming back to rehearsal after that. lol.


Hobey-ho!

Daily Rehearsal Woes

All right, digging into my copious rehearsal notes now. I thought about writing them down for years, don't know why I finally started to do it. I graduated last year, and just come to the school to participate in the music groups when I can, so maybe it's some crazy nostalgia thing. You know, the whole, you don't miss it until it's gone thing.

Anyway, so a few weeks ago, on the 2nd, the poor tympanist, who had showed up late that day, was struggling with a part. Doc had cued him for something, or forgot to cue him for something, and Doc told him, "Ultimately, it's always your fault, but in this case not really." 

We were all just as confused as you are.

Then, towards the end of the rehearsal, Doc was ready to start a new piece, but the trumpet section wouldn't stop talking. Normally Doc fusses at us for stuff like this, because we're supposed to be pretty professional by college (and many of us perform professionally already). But this time, he let the trumpets finish up, (turns out they'd been discussing an entrance in the previous piece) and then qualified it to the group: "It's alright. It's business. It's not like they're passing around a lunch menu or anything."

But as always, I've saved the best quote of the day for last, just to entice you to come back for another entry. We were working on a piece, and one of the whole band measures was this 6/4 chord that should've been lovely, but was pretty awful. For those who aren't musicians (or those that need a theory refresher), there are three basic inversions for any chord. We'll take a I chord in the key of C Major. The notes are C, E, and G. When played in that manner, with the C in the bass (on the bottom, so the lowest heard note), it's called root position. When the E is in the bass, it's called a first inversion. This is normally written as a I-6. When the G is in the bass, with the C on top, it's known as a second inversion. It's typically written as a I-6/4. The 6/4 chords are the most unstable.

Doc explained this to us by writing three triangles on the chalk board. The root position looks like this: ▲. It's stable, with the root solidly balancing the chord in the bass. The 1st inversion looks similar to the root position, but it's more square. But the 2nd inversion chord looks like this: ▼. It's very precarious.

Or rather, in Doc's words: "That's the frog with the third eye right there."

Whatever he meant by that. lol.

Hobey-ho!

Musical Valentine

Just a short one today, just felt a bit mandatory, it being Valentine's Day and all 

At the end of rehearsal today, Doc commented, "Figured a day like today deserved a little something, so Jaqueline [his wife, who plays bass clarinet in the group] and I baked for you."

Then he brought out a platter of heart cookies and walked to the door. "As you're leaving, I'll be here to serve you a cookie. Or rather, allow me to be your Valentine."

That man is so silly, and heartfelt, and so awkward at times it's completely endearing.

And that cookie is my only Valentine in years.

Hobey-ho.

Calliopes in Paris

Last year around this time, we were all in Wind Ensemble. It was a typical afternoon, actually cold in February (seriously, what is up with the 80 degree weather we've had in my part of the country all week? Ridiculous. I think we tripped through fall and skipped winter and spring entirely just to land in summer all over again.). It was close to midterms. Rehearsal was just about the last place we wanted to be, so everyone was watching the clock. To be honest, I'm sure we weren't playing our best.

But the saxophone section...oh man. *start rant* (Please forgive my language in this one section, I get too passionate about music to help it.) Now, just in the illusion of honesty in this enviable anonymity of the internet world, I don't think I've ever met a sax player I haven't hated. They're either arrogant pricks or just retarded assholes. Some are both. But they're all one and the same. They're sleazy women-grabbers who think they have no fault in the world (especially when it comes to their music). They're like the bastard child of music who was only able to shirk off the black sheep tag for the unknowing masses due to their psychotic break that just so happened to be a lucky rebellion that turned into jazz. (And don't get me wrong, I love jazz music. Throw out the straight eights, give me a sultry beat, scat a few lines, pop in a Harmon muted trumpet and I'm cooked, done, gone. Take me now. Nothing sexier. I wish I'd been born in the 20s, because then I would've been the perfect age to enjoy the 40s, and I'd wear all the "vintage" clothes to match my pin curled hair with the smokey eyes and swing dance to the original big bands day and night. I would swing dance my life away if I could. But I digress...) Saxes are made of brass, but use a reed, so they're neither a brass instrument or a woodwind (technically, a flute should be considered brass, but it has nowhere near the tone quality of other instruments such as the trombone, and it doesn't use valves, so I supposed you could make a case either way, but ancient history puts it as a woodwind.). They're often times used in youth orchestras to cover the difficult french horn licks, but in a hundred years they still haven't figured out how to blend their sound to anything else, and yet they think they own the whole music realm and are allowed to improvise anything as they damn well please. So my point being, I hate saxes, and I especially hate idiot jerks who play saxes. *end rant*

But all of that aside, on this particular day in rehearsal, the saxes were just off the charts wrong. There's always one off (usually the bari), but this time it was all seven. Out of tune, out of rhythm, whole measures away from the group, really on a different planet. It was so bad, Doc didn't even cut us off. He just put his hands down and shook his head slowly.

And gave us this quite memorable quote:

"Saxes, what is going on today? You sound worse than a calliope. It's like it's raining in Paris and even the monkeys aren't dancing." 

(aside: a calliope is one of those old carnival organs. You can look it up here and listen to a few diddlies. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calliope_(music) And seriously, please listen to at least the track in the beginning. You will *almost* regret it, but it totally makes this quote.)

There was a pause, and several of us students were trying to hold in our laughter out of respect, especially since Doc doesn't ride us too often - and when he does, it's more than justifiable.

But then Doc just added the epic fireworks.

"I didn't even think about that one. That was good!"

Now that we'd been given permission, everyone was just DYING. I'm pretty sure someone dropped an instrument. Even Doc let out this guffaw I don't think I've ever heard before or since.

And finally, Doc hit the home run. 

"There are just some days, guys, I tell ya. Don't poop in the punch bowl!"

I promise, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Hobey-ho.

That One Awkward Big Band Concert...

Now that I've given you a thorough explanation of this little blog exposé... time to get down to business!

I have to share this doozy first, even though it happened like, three years ago, because it was just THAT memorable. Doc decided to "jazz up" the Big Band Concert that quarter. So he had all of the band members write a little known fact about themselves, and then he read them out loud between pieces for audience members to guess the subject's identity. My friend Elizabeth, the only female in the group, a lovely trumpetress (you should see her make guys swoon with her harmon mute. And okay...the full rack and sexy red pumps she wears with her concert black don't hurt either), found hers picked first. It said "I've been a Type 1 diabetic for 12 years." When Doc discovered it was Elizabeth, he promptly said, "Well, I guess I'll be more understanding if you ever have to leave rehearsal to go stab yourself."

The entire hall was speechless.

I honestly don't think he realized how that sounded, but regardless, he just proceeded on with the next little known fact. Doc's college roommate also plays trumpet in the group as needed, and on his slip he'd put "I've seen the band director naked." Maybe this embarrassed Doc and he was trying to cover that up...but what he said next definitely did NOT help any. "Well, at least we know it's not Elizabeth."

Which of course, only made all of us picture Elizabeth with a naked Doc. *awkward turtle* More like *awkward bull* This time the audience roared with laughter.

I have plenty more where this came from, but I've got to keep you coming back for more, right?

Plus, it's almost time for me to enter into the orchestra pit for Sound of Music rehearsals. A little Edelweiss lullaby, anyone?

Aaaah...the life of a musician. :-)

Hobey-ho.

An Explanation

First off...


The user name. I thought of it because there was this phrase we used at summer camp. I've been counseling at camp for over 5 summers now, and if you counsel every day of the week but don't stay in  the same cabin, jumping around each night, we called you a cabin whore. It was like, you had no real loyalty to any cabin, you just loved them all equally. So it wasn't really a negative thing, more of a term of endearment. And that's the way I think of myself with music, sometimes. I can never pick just one instrument. I'm always cheating on it with something else, or some other style.


I started piano lessons when I was 4 years old. Violin at age 9. String Bass at 10. Oboe at 11. Bassoon at 13. Handbells at 19. I've got a BA in music, bassoon emphasis, and only needed student teaching and a state test to have my music education credential. Throughout the four years of college, I learned the viola, the cello, flute (okay, that one I sucked at), clarinet, trumpet, trombone, tromboon (trombone with the bassoon bocal instead of the mouthpiece), snare drum, timpani, marimba, vibes, glockenspiel, I even tried to master the didgeridoo during my world music class. I currently perform primarily on bassoon and handbells in both ensemble and solo work. Even have four handbell choirs of my own that I direct through my church. So yeah...guess that's me, musicwhore.


The only other explanation I have for this blog is that, on my life-long quest of mastering music, I've met some pretty incredible people. Some pretty awful ones, too. But what I've realized is that musicians, and especially music teachers and conductors, have our own language, for better or worse. And most of the time, we come up with some of the most random things I've ever heard in my life. Especially my band director, Doc. I've started taking a note pad to rehearsals just to record it all. Seriously. (He also loves that show "Sh*t My Dad Says" so I thought that was an appropriate title for this blog. Though I mentioned the idea to several of my friends and didn't want to curse, so I said Bleep my Band Director Says, and they thought that was more funny than the original title, so now we're going with that!) Hence, I figured I'd share with all of you the joy and pains of music and the batshit crazy things we say.


*dodododo dodododo dodododo dodododo (Twighlight Zone theme)*


You are now entering the world of: *Bleep* my Band Director Says.


Hobey-ho.