There is something intimate and sacred about listening to a recital. When a musician stands up to play an instrument or sing they are not just “performing,” they are giving a part of themselves to the world. When you play your instrument after months and months of preparing for a recital, there are many things that run through your head when you are about to step on to the stage and perform. “Will anyone come to listen? What if my reed breaks!?! What if I mess up measure 35?”
Doubt floods you when you realize you are putting yourself out there to everyone who will listen. It’s almost like you are standing naked for the world to see. It is a revealing of your soul and your passion. You are putting your heart on display. When you put so much time into the pieces you have prepared and you have one shot at presenting them, there is not much room for error so you want to get it right the first time. You want the audience to hear the music as if it is the first time it has ever been performed. It is a moment that will never be created again.
There is something civilized about going to a concert. I’m talking about a concert of classical music in a sacred space (a little different than going to hear Janet Jackson). Sitting in a sacred space with a group of individuals brings a certain kind of peace to your soul. It’s when you can enjoy music with like minded individuals who appreciate the training and talent it takes to perform this genre of music. It’s also nice to know that everyone knows to not clap after the first movement of a piece J
Last Friday I attended an oboe recital at St. John’s Cathedral in Albuquerque. There was a small group in the audience to hear the faculty oboist from the University of New Mexico. It was just wonderful. Hearing this man play his oboe and English horn brought back memories to what used to be the center of my being. I was a musician through and through. I remembered the days I spent in lessons with my mentor, the late Raymond Weaver of the Houston Symphony. I could listen to his stories for hours and not only was I blessed to study with him, but I had the privilege to play alongside him for years. Those moments making music with him taught me more than any class I ever took. Mr. Weaver taught me how to listen, how to relax and trust myself and most importantly how to play with my whole heart.
I am a better person because I knew him. He passed away many years ago and my time studying with him in Houston seems like an eternity has passed, but my presence at the recital Friday has made me realize that I don’t have to let go of my music. It’s still in reach. God has ignited something inside of me…that passion, that love for music that I have let go.
It’s time to reclaim it before it is too late.
Today I Am Thankful For:
- Oranges
- Mexican Feast Saturday Night
- Puppy obedience training
- Clean clothes
- leftovers
