Tandy Hard #2

The deep smell of ebony wood, the taste of the fibrous reed-slightly bitter. These were the first sensations of a day that seemed would never come. Amber stones of rosin scattered, half hidden in their cases, were jewels that would prime the bows for their magic motion. The smells of various species of wood intermingled with the reflection of their curvy shapes in the funneled horns of brass. Silence as the director approached the podium. And then the down stroke, and the music of the orchestra.

When I was a little girl, I danced to Fantasia. You know the one-where Mickey becomes this magician who enchants brooms to do his work? I would dance around my grandparents living room, moving to the music, oblivious to the pictures on the tube. At that point I figured a wanted to make those sounds. I wanted to be a musician. I started learning clarinet.

I didn’t get very far. There were a bajillion clarinets, and most of them were better than me. So I stayed in the middle of the pack skill wise. But in high school, (partly because of my mediocrity), I was assigned a new instrument, the bassoon. They needed a new player since a senior had graduated. The incentive was that if you were first or second chair, (the top two players of that instrument) you would get to play in the orchestra on Fridays.

The orchestra had played in Carnegie Hall the year before and they were good. Damn good. Their director was on of those few teachers that can inspire and push their students to achieve the best of their ability. Being in the orchestra would mean being a part of something wonderful, an entity of 35 people, who together made a unified, amazing and moving statement with their sound. A sound that had taught me to dance as a child.

The first step was memorizing the chromatic scales, then the major, the minor. My fingers were shorter than most other bassoonists, and the combined repetitive motion and the stretch would make my hands constantly ache until they were used to it. Holding the double reed was a challenge as well. There was no mouth piece to provide structural support so only my lips would have to provide the vibration needed to make the sound. (I became a really good kisser after playing for a while). And there was practice everyday, fighting an old, out of tune instrument, forcing it by shear will power to make the notes on the page.

But finally, I had an audition with the director. And I nailed it. Completely! Bam! And I was in. I was in the first practice, I and really cried. Moved that I was finally part of the sound.