The concert went well, but it felt treacherous from the podium for much of the way- a bit like driving on ice. Sometimes one has to make up for a slight shortage of rehearsal time with a bit of extra mental power behind the baton- fortunately, it sounded good even if it felt tough. On the other hand, the very end of Brahms 2 was damn exciting, and solid as a rock.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t have been that exciting if you hadn\u2019t yelled at them like that,\u201d offered one observer of the afternoon\u2019s rehearsal after the concert.<\/p>\n
She was right. I\u2019d lost it a bit in the rehearsal when half the first violins crashed in on the penultimate chord the third time in a row.<\/p>\n
\u201cWatch! If you do that tonight, I\u2019ll storm off the stage before the last note,\u201d I warned them. We didn\u2019t try the passage again. My friend had said the power of that moment was that nobody in the orchestra was sure if I meant it or not.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve never heard those last few chords tighter or more in tune than they were a few hours later, and the nearly-full house gave the orchestra a fitting cheer. It was a satisfying way to end a great piece and a great concert.<\/p>\n
Sadly, the easier something is to play, the less likely the musicians are to watch the conductor (one could go farther and say that the easier something is to play, the worse people play it).<\/p>\n
On the other hand, some players are keen to let you know if they can\u2019t see you well enough- it’s not that they’re not watching it is that they can’t see you. Earlier that very afternoon, a cellist came to me and said that I was so tall that she was having a hard time seeing my beat because it was too high<\/em><\/strong>. Ironically, 2 minutes earlier, a horn player had said he was struggling because my beat was sometimes too low<\/em><\/strong> for him.\u00a0This sort of thing happens all the time-I’ve even had players on the same stand make opposite complaints about sightlines.\u00a0\u00a0I knew one very accomplished principal bassist who seemed to tell every conductor who came in with his band that they needed to beat bigger (something we\u2019re all taught NOT to do in conductor school). Apparently, the bigger the instrument, the bigger the preferred beat.<\/p>\n (Actually, beating bigger can help make the players feel more comfortable, but I\u2019ve never heard an orchestra actually sound better as the result of a bigger beat that was otherwise appropriate to the character of the music. )<\/p>\n I probably shouldn\u2019t say this, but I think watching the conductor can be over-rated. Except on the last 3 chords of Brahms 2.<\/p>\n In fact, this week in Wrexham, I\u2019m working with a blind principal trombonist.<\/p>\n There are some allowances to be made- he needs to be warned a week ahead of rehearsal schedule so he can make sure to memorize the right movements until the piece is learned, and if we\u2019re starting right on a trombone entrance (ie, when he doesn\u2019t have a chance hear a cue before he has to play his first note) I need to clearly explain to him where we\u2019re starting from. \u201c14 after E\u201d is not helpful to someone who can\u2019t see the score, but \u201ctwo bars before you come in with the five repeated high f#\u2019s\u201d is more useful. Likewise, it\u2019s sometimes helpful if I count off aloud.<\/p>\n But how about all those tempo modifications (the Rachmaninoff 1st<\/sup> Symphony is full of them)? Well, they haven\u2019t been a problem. I can think of one or two accelerandi where he was a tiny bit behind for the first beat \u00a0or two the first time we tried it (less so than some of his fully sighted colleagues), but that\u2019s the exception.<\/p>\n Of course, he can do this because he knows what to listen for<\/em><\/strong>– he\u2019s listened to the pieces enough to memorize the trombone part and all the cues and bars rest.<\/p>\n My favorite pianist collaborator was someone who was always with me when we played together, no matter what crazy shit I pulled, regardless of whether we had a sightline or not. She knew what to listen for- no head bobbing or looks over the shoulder required.<\/p>\n In our trombonist\u2019s case, someone<\/em> has to watch the conductor for all those accelerandos, but if you can\u2019t see the conductor (in his case, he literally can\u2019t see the conductor) you have to know what to listen to. If you\u2019re listening like crazy, there\u2019s never any need to be perceptibly<\/em><\/strong> behind or ahead of your colleagues.<\/p>\n Sadly, it sometimes seems that people look at the process of learning what to listen for as something they shouldn\u2019t have to do. Yes, I suppose one can be good enough to play the notes on the page, count the rests accurately and watch for a cue and do their job, but is that making music? More to the point- do you really just want to be living in a world where your whole universe is your part and the conductor? Playing an instrument<\/em><\/strong> is fun, but playing music<\/em><\/strong> is more fun\u2026<\/p>\n By the way- there is a deaf violist in the London Symphony. Apparently, her intonation is impeccable (she works every day with tuners). Just goes to show you there\u2019s never any point in making excuses (like the hall is too cold\u2026). <\/p>\n