Actual Audition!

Whew.

I am now on that sort of empty low after something that you've been anticipating for forever is finally over. What to do next?

Blog about it, of course. My accompanist was nice enough. There was some mix up in signing out the rooms and so a wind quintet came in to rehearse while we were in the room. He got rather angry and so, in an effort to calm him down a bit, I told him that things like that happened all the time at Peabody too. He was surprised. He expected that everything in America was well run. That sparked yet another conversation of America vs. Great Britain and how the two are similar/different. I keep being surprised at how many people have not been to America. I really probably shouldn't be. Though now is really a good time to go! The dollar is terrible! Go! Spend money in America! But buy locally, okay? Those independent bookstores need your money.

But the audition. We went in an played the Eccles. It went okay, better than the rehearsals had been. I was both standing and playing on an unfamiliar (much larger) instrument. It went okay. I played barefoot- I love that this is a laid-back enough program that I could play barefoot. Then I went and sat down, handed them my portfolio, and began to talk. A lot. Very animatedly. Leaning forward and making too much eye contact.

I told them that I was very interested in the collaborative aspects, more so than the workshop aspects necessarily. I told them about the poetry collaboration and about how that was 5 years ago and I still talk about it. I told them about how I had loved preparing for my recital, but how, when I thought about what I wanted to do with my life, I knew that it wasn't going to be sitting in a practice room by myself for hours on end and that it wasn't going to be with a traditional orchestra. I told them about how much I loved dance, and about dalcroze and movement. I told them that I was nervous that I was so much more interested in the collaborative aspects than the workshop aspects, but also that we don't have that in America yet, so I really didn't know what I was talking about. I told them about being a camp counselor. I told them about Peter McCarthy and showed them my article that I wrote for Bass World. I told them what I thought were the important/key points for a good/effective collaboration. I told them some other stuff too, that is what I remember.

And here is the thing: You know Jeffery Sharkey, the new director and his wife Alison Wells, the cellist that convinced the other cellists to come to the program? And you know the Young Se Toe (or however you spell that) Conservatory in Singapore that Peabody founded? There are all of these connections. The Leadership programme has someone in Singapore (Bernard or Bertram or something else equally British sounding and starting with a B) and apparently Sharkey has been talking to Guildhall a bunch and then there are all of Alison's proteges here now. So here is what I need to do: I need to talk to Sharkey and Alison. For real. Because I could help, I could be a great liaison between the Leadership Programme and Peabody. I would be really great at that. And that would be so cool.

So I might not get in this year, but they responded well to what I was saying and at the very least we have all met now and begun talking. They only have 8 spots, and they have three days of interviews. They have my e-mail address and are going to let me know if there are any events while I am still in London, but unfortunately it is Easter/Spring break and not much is going on.

And that's all I've got right now. Except that I am heartily sick of sandwiches. (Thought I am thankful that they have been feeding us these past three days.)

Audition Day!

I've got half an hour until my warm up time. I was looking for a restroom, but instead found the computer lab, and I'm not one to pass up free internet.

The end of the workshop went very well. We were supposed to add a couple of things and finish up our group composition by noon, in time to break for lunch. Instead we ended up working on it until the very end of the workshop at 4:30. So whatever we were going to do after lunch, never got done. It was interesting though, how they put the whole composition together. We had a large beginning groove that the leaders had written and arranged for our instrumentation, then we had broken up into groups, written two more melodies and a B and C section. By the end of the morning session each individual group had written a third part. For instance: I was in the B section group. On Saturday we had written a repeating bass ostinato figure, chord progression, and solo over the top. On Sunday we added a theme for the winds and strings to play while the rest of our section went on the same. It added so much, I got to listen to that part of the recording and it was amazing sounding. The whole composition ended up being about 20 minutes long, and I played nearly the whole time. My left arm is in quite a bit of pain now, because I am stupid. Oh well.

After our workshop ended a bunch of folks went out to a local pub, but the conversation was rather stilted and we all suddenly realized that we were each other's competition, which was no fun. I don't envy the leaders who will be making the admissions decisions, there are about 23 people auditioning and *maybe* 8 spots. So just about 1 out of 3 will get in. Oi. But no, not thinking about that yet, I still have 15 minutes before my warm up...

After the ill-fated pub gathering I started to walk back to the pub station, but A: got distracted by the Roman wall sitting randomly next to a metal gate, and B: got distracted by a small garden. So I took some pictures of the wall (amazed by the fact that it has just been worked around. It is old! Save it! Though, I guess there are so many old things in London...) and then went into the garden.

The garden turned out to be the communal graveyard of three churches- but it is smack dab in the middle of London, so of course it was bombed to pieces during World War II. Anyhow, they have turned the old headstones into flower bed edgers...I was amazed, and then love the idea. There was also a wall of glazed ceramic tiles that read like virtuous Darwin Awards: " so-and-s0; aged 11 years, drowned saving two unknown boys while skating at the park." That isn't a good example...some were really quite funny. In a sweet sort of heartbreaking sort of way.

At that point I realized that I was right next to St. Pauls and therefore right next to the millennium bridge, so I went for a walk. Unfortunately for me I remembered the bridge and the eye as being much closer to each other, so it ended up being an unexpectedly long walk. To pass the time, I played: "spot the American"

Here are some things I noticed:
Cowboy boots: definitely not American, probably Japanese.
Skinny jeans on boys older than 14: definitely not American, anything but American
Northface jackets: American
twirling hair: American
Men wearing scarves as an accessory: not American
Sorority girl makeup: American. Americans are apparently the only ones who try to make the entire face the same shade, everyone else allows for gradation in color. Notice, I didn't say "bottle blond hair" or "heavy makeup" but specifically sorority girl makeup.

off to go warm up, I'll let you know how today went later.