Fall Break was this week, and I took advantage of it for a trip to Golden Gate Park. The day was grey and quiet and overcast, and I wanted to see the endless ocean stretching huge along the horizon as far as your head can turn. A faded line where it meets the sky, like a rubbed-out chalk mark. Chilly winds whipping in from the sea. It gave me deep satisfaction to look at the huge space where the water began. The day grew clearer and softer as I explored, and soon the sky was clouded only with long narrow bands of luminous pink. There was one cache hidden in a huge gnarled log in a glade in the middle of the forest. After replacing the cache I climbed onto the log and settled myself astride, reading my book (An Instance of the Fingerpost, by Iain Pears). I also came across the Bison Paddock, which I had no idea existed. There were a few animals grazing, very slowly and quietly.
At orchestra rehearsals this week I decided I was going to figure out how to get up to the mezzanine level, or choir loft. I have been working here for over a year, and the chief crew member didn't believe me when I said I didn't know where the stairs were. I thought I had better find that out to spare myself further humiliation. So I did a mini-explore for them backstage, and found them, and was quite pleased with myself, especially as the mezzanine level includes extra washrooms and changerooms, the sewing/fitting room and storage rooms.
Scott brought one of the music theory/musicology professors into an orchestra rehearsal to talk about the first movement of Shosty 10. It's twenty-eight minutes long, and he wanted us to know what ALL THAT was about. The prof pointed out the motives from which the movement is built and where all the themes are, revealing that the whole thing is actually a big sonata form, and making sense out of an otherwise impenetrable mass of notes, pathos, and brooding silences. After his illumination of the first movement, he touched on the other movements, pointing out that the terrifying second movement is actually supposed to be a portrait of Stalin (this symphony wasn't published until after Stalin died). In the third movement, the DSCH motive (representing Shosty himself) appears for the first time. It was a very serious and fascinating discussion he was holding with the conductor - at least, I found it doocedly interesting. They were asking why Shosty waits until the third movement to show himself, and soliciting our opinions on the matter. One of the bass players raised her hand and said "Because he was Stallin'." Everyone groaned and laughed and Scott said "That was pretty bad, but no one else thought of it! So it was pretty good." Then he warned us "Don't think about that in the concert, now." The principal cellist assured him "I'll think of ice cream."
In the dress rehearsal Scott began tightening the noose on my section at one difficult passage. He asked us to play without the rest of the orchestra, then without the first two desks, then without the first five desks (I was in the fifth desk, thankfully). Those last three desks were exceedingly messy and he said to them, calmly, pleasantly, "Tomorrow night, before the concert, we're going to do that again. With me. One by one. In the green room." Then he continued the rehearsal as if nothing had happened. I was very curious to see if he would carry out the death threat, and Maddy (who was seventh desk) told me he actually did. It's a good tactic for scaring people into learning their parts, if nothing else.
In case you're wondering, the concerts were exultant, especially the Sunday afternoon one.
Side note: This blog apparently gets substantial traffic from the Waffle Opera website. Curious as to why this should be so, I checked out the site and to my great surprise I found the snippet I wrote about them last year on their Press page, with a link to the post where I mentioned them. I am now extremely curious as to who told the Waffle people about my "review", how long it has been on their website, and how many people have looked at my blog because of it. I never thought anyone would read this except my family and close friends from YYC, and those people are the ones I have in mind when constructing posts. This blog is really my weekly letter home.
- Antisocial Violinist
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