| Musical word of the interval: Movement - a self-contained section of a larger work, often identified by the Italian word for the speed at which it is intended to be played ("Let's try the beginning of that Allegro movement again.") You will frequently see this term used on lists of audition repertoire at music school websites, e.g. "contrasting movements from a Concerto written for your instrument." Movements can last from a few seconds (e.g. Brandenburg Concerto #3, movement 2 by JS Bach) to a half an hour or more.
OK, it seems like there is interest so I will start with the first real installment. I intend to begin each one with an explanation in (mostly) layman's terms of the musical jargon you may encounter while surfing college web sites. If you come across one that you don't understand whilst surfing, send it to me and I will add it to the list. Without further ado, here is
Installment #1, "You want to do WHAT? Are you out of your mind?"
Daughter stepped off the school bus on one of the last warm days in October of her eighth-grade year with an innocent smile on her face and requested to be taken right back to school. When asked why she casually replied, "To pick up the double bass they are going to lend me. I volunteered to switch today and the bus driver wouldn't let me bring it home." Up to that point she had played violin for three years in the school orchestra, a solid, middle-of-the-section kind of player who relied more on an excellent ear than intense practice sessions to keep up with the others. We knew that she was musical from an early age, but never really thought of her as conservatory material; she had never shown the kind of single-minded devotion required in either her piano or violin studies. That was about to change.
Thinking, "OK, another fad that will last a month or so," I took her back to the middle school to meet with the strings teacher and take possession of a much-dented instrument made of plywood with a loose seam or two and a lost rock stop rumbling about somewhere within. (A rock stop, as I soon discovered the hard way, is a kind of coaster for cellos and basses that keeps the rod on the bottom of the instrument from sliding, thus adding another dent to the instrument and another gouge in the wooden floor.) We also got a fiberglass bow that was a few hairs short of its full load, a crusty lump of rosin twisted up inside a piece of looseleaf paper secured with a rubber band, and the phone number of a private teacher in the area. The instrument itself was 35 pounds of ungainliness that had to be coaxed into the minivan amid much folding of seats and restowing of the kind of jetsam that only two pre-teens and a disorganized dad can produce.
I felt exactly the way parents do when presented with the "He followed me home, can I keep him?" routine. True to form, I made it clear that this new addition would be my daughter's sole responsibility. She would have to practice every day, carry it around all by herself and clean up after any messes it made. (OK, so I made up that last part.) Over the next month she settled into a brisk routine of lessons and practice that made me even more certain that this, too, would pass. I thought she would soon tire of the previously unheard-of full hour of practice on weekdays and twice that on weekends, but she was just getting started.
The lesson I learned was that not everyone has to choose an instrument by age six, even a string player. Had she done so, she would have been farther along with her technique come audition time for college, but colleges are not only looking for fast fingers. By studying piano, violin and, later, voice, I think she got a broad perspective and a level of musicality that is sometimes lacking in young prodigies who put all their eggs in one basket. Had I prevented her from switching to bass, she would have never found what turned out to be HER instrument.
Has your son or daughter found THEIR instrument (and I am most assuredly including voice in that category)? If so, when and how did it happen? |