Two Thousand and...Ten??

The Music of Chopin & Liszt!  Conducting!  A piano concerto!  Those are just a few of the highlights of my upcoming semester here.  The first two are classes, of course, but...a piano concerto?? 

One of the most incredible opportunities an Ambrose music student can have is the opportunity to perform as a soloist in a full-blown concerto with orchestra.  Once a year, we hold a Concerto Concert, and those who have prepared a concerto may get the chance to have theirs on the program.  I have been working on the Grieg Concerto in A Minor for almost a year now, and had the honour of being picked to play in this year's performance.  Let me tell you, it's thrilling, terrifying, and mind-blowing all at the same time.  In what other university does an undergrad student ever have a chance to solo with an orchestra??  Basically, none.  It's incredibly special, and something I will remember for my entire life.

But in the meantime, preparing a concerto is far, far, far more work than most people ever realize.  A normal piano performance is challenging enough.  But let me tell you a secret - rarely, if ever, does any performer come through a concert or recital with absolutely no mistakes.  Out of necessity, we all just become experts at hiding our errors.  Because, as every good musician knows, if your expression doesn't give you away, and if you keep playing, almost nobody will ever know you missed a note...a measure...a page...honestly!!  I will personally confess to having done that, even in my end-of-semester jury.  (Don't tell my profs!)  But here's the thing with concertos: you CANNOT skip, skimp, or stretch any passages, nor can you stumble, pause, and take another try.  The orchestra will just keep sailing right along without you!  So there is no room for forgiveness or second tries at 'that lovely bit right there.'  Preparing a concerto consists of a lot more guts and a lot less glory than you'd think.  Hours alone in the practice room.  Hard work with little immediate gain.  Frustration, panic, and exasperation.  There are tough lessons, too.  I had one yesterday.  My teacher spent a solid hour drilling apart all my weakest areas, and systematically deconstructing places I thought I was confident in.  It was hard, but those kind of lessons are necessary once in a while, especially when the concert date creeps this close.  The best thing you can do is check your pride and excuses at the door, humbly accept the criticism, take away all the value you can, and work on it for another week, knowing you will be a better musician for it.

Tonight, the orchestra starts rehearsing their parts.  In a few weeks, I will be rehearsing with them.  And the big day itself is March 12.  7:30 PM at First Church of the Nazarene, incidentally, if you are interested in showing up to hear what will be a fabulous performance - provided I can work my part up to being worthy of the incredible music we will be playing!