> I'm probably not a "true" professional musician according to your > standards but rest assured I won't lose any sleep wondering about > how the "true" determination is made
One meaningful measure worthy of consideration might be that, over the course of several decades, people have been anxious to pay for expensive tickets in order that they may hear you play a solo. I'm not Q-U-I-T-E there yet. Your post smacks of Postmodernist "nothing is true, everything is relative" thinking, but I'm not trying to label you, just making an observation. If, in turn, my message smacks of "12th grade redneck journalism," then you're entitled to your opinion... which, in this case, would be right on the money, for that's what I am. *** > Honesty and kindness aren't mutually exclusive character traits > although you are doing well at disproving that Your horse breaks a leg in the desert. Kinder to shoot it in the head, or leave it to fend for itself? If I were your horse, I'd try asking for mercy, but I'd be more than willing to grab your gun and do it myself. *** > When you show me a scientific study about the "brain constellation", > I'll read it When you show me the scientific difference between my Strauss 2nd and Hans's, you'll have it to read! *** > Until then, I find your theory suspect, your self-proclaimed prowess > as a professional musician not withstanding "Self-proclaimed?" The fourth line of your mailing address is where you fill-in your planet of residence. Please read yours aloud to us so we'll know which one you're from. If Herr Pizka's prowess is "self-proclaimed," then Yuri Gagarin was a self-proclaimed astronaut. Surf over to Pizka's website and find the "I Hear A Huntsman" soundfile with soprano and strings. Yes, he cuffs a note, but this was no "run it over-and-over 'til you get it right" studio recording. Pizka walked out on stage, planted his feet, and stuck his head in the mouth of the lion... and within the first few bars of the music, the lion lays down. The horn's blending, with both the strings AND the voice, goes right to the edge of what's even POSSIBLE on a brass instrument. It wasn't technical prowess that got him there either, though that ability was certainly evident. There are others who can play it louder, some can play it faster, some might even take it up an octave while waving their Mr. Spiffy around for the audience to admire. And don't get me started on those American orchestras who've lately been having a brass-sanctioned Blast Orgy. I wrote a (private!) review of a recent Philadelphia television broadcast (called "The Philly Review") in which they played... beautifully. This was in stark contrast to a recent recording by a famous US orchestra (or "once-famous" if you ask me) that I used as a point of reference to illustrate how the mighty have fallen. But for the duration of the "Huntsman" piece, Pizka keeps his pants zipped. And if you can somehow find a way to forgive his complete lack of weenie-waving skills, you'll find that he more than compensates by ACTUALLY BLENDING AND PLAYING MUSIC. I am an utter and complete "nobody" and I have this opinion. But I'll say this: If horn playing like Pizka's "Huntsman" ever goes out of style, I'll find something else to be interested in. My mother's Alzheimer's disease is now to the point that she no longer recognizes me. And so, as I am to her, much of "professional" music is becoming to me. It's all too often these days that I hardly recognize it. Still, even though I sometimes find it missing from where it should be, I occasionally find it where I never would've thought to look. My wife and I (we're both hornplayers) recently were hired as "ringers" for a very good high school orchestra. The chorus was doing Rutter's "Requiem," and they needed more stability in a few sections than an all-student group would have given. So, we showed up, expecting to walk through the evening and pick up a check afterwards. Not that we didn't't plan to play well; we DID plan, and we also practiced our parts together so that, no matter WHAT went on around us, we were going to play well, blend, sound good, ebb and flow together, and, above all, be proud of our work. Beyond that, we didn't expect much. We were wrong. There was a young lady (soprano) in the chorus who stood behind us, and let me tell you; if I'd known what I was in for, I would've paid the school a hundred bucks for the honor of sitting in front of this girl, instead of the other way 'round. I've played in support of several famous singers, but that was always from a distance, back in the horn section while the singer was out front. But never in my life have I stood so close to someone--anyone--through whom so much music flowed like warm honey from a flask. I've always played 1st horn wherever I've been and, sadly, this is what I've missed by not being in a section of those water-walking horns. Being only 17-years old, she certainly must have lacked some of the "seasoning" that comes with years of study and performance, and I know full-well that she could not have stood in a breastplate and plastered the entire back row of that huge auditorium against the wall with the power of a Wagnerian soprano. But considering the venue, and what was needed at that time and in that place, her performance could scarcely have been bettered. After only a few bars of hearing her sing, I began to turn to my wife and make some kind of mute expression to show my approval. She beat me to it. As I discreetly turned, she met me with a mouthed, "W-O-W!" This young lady behind us was a musical clothesline, and everyone else was pair of red flannel underpants, hanging on to dry. Yet, she blended, and brought absolutely NO focus upon herself. The only way we knew of her incredible musicianship was that she stood directly over our shoulders. In fact, her music folder was over my wife's head, so we had the best seats in the house. What a night, and what music lesson... from a child. No one could have taught her that. The director was superb, but if he'd had the power, then he would have made all 100 voices on that stage to be just like her. He probably helped and mentored her, but what she had, she'd brought with her. *** > ...that you apparently find certain people completely lacking in certain areas > proves absolutely nothing other than you've mistaken your own opinions for > something valuable ...and how does that differ from your opinion of his opinions? *** > Put another way, that you play the horn well doesn't mean you know > anything about musicality in others You know those computer-generated "magic eye" stereo images? I mean the ones where, when you focus in front of or beyond the main picture, 3D patterns emerge. Well, my wife still swears there's not really another image. In a way, this makes sense. That is, if you can't see it, it is much easier to simply think that no one else can either. *** > Someone other than you - everyone, in fact - has the right to define what > constitutes a good and a musical performance for themselves Exactly. And that's why Britney Spears sells more CD's than Hans Pizka! (caution: this is pure conjecture on my part; I didn't check the record company statistics before typing... nor did I have to) This whole exchange piqued my curiosity on a different level. A friend of mine is a music professor at a university. A committee of his colleagues has suggested, in order to further legitimize the university's standing with a soon-to-be visiting board from a school accreditation agency, that he should pass out questionnaires to the audience and let them rate the wind ensemble concerts, in several areas, on a 1-to-10 scale. And, by using this metric, he should be able to show a history of improvement over the accreditation period. <spoken with near-breathless glee> "Look everybody, the numbers are in! Yaaaay! We're SMART NOW! Wheee!" What seems to be bothering this committee is that the concerts (or theatre play, or art display, or dance, or WHATEVER performance art you might have) are not being properly quantified into digestible ***numbers***, so that improvement (or degradation) can be proven and documented with a nice, clean stroke-of-the-pen. Oh please, save us from these two-dimensional clay-footed bureaucrats. They've already done their best to ruin education and, if they have their way, I fear music (here in the US, anyway) is about to take the elevator to the next floor down. I'm 50, and I think I can already see the bottom. jrc in SC PS: My "Philly Review" is currently making Underground Press headlines (network of brass players and their e-mail accounts)... or so I'm told. I sent it to my university music professor friend (mentioned above) and now I'm getting messages concerning it. Then my professor friend told me why: "Uhhh, I e-mailed your 'Philly Review' to a few friends of mine who are unhappily stuck in "Blast 'Em To The Moon" brass-heavy orchestras. You don't mind, do you?" Well, I don't mind, but I've so far resisted posting it here. Since it was private, I named the guilty. Depending on the feedback I get on the e-mail version, I may change names and post it anyway. We'll see. One thing's for sure; I had fun writing it. ~r _______________________________________________ post: [EMAIL PROTECTED] unsubscribe or set options at http://music.memphis.edu/mailman/options/horn/archive%40jab.org
