Danzemos! (and the other, upside-down exclamation mark before it): a rhythmical, lyrical semester of music
Well, it certainly pleased the crowds - and, I am glad to say, it won me over, too.
We played seven pieces in all, ranging from Ravel's contemplative Pavane pour un enfant défunt (a Pavane being a dance), through to the highlight of the evening, Danzon 2 by Arthuro Marquéz, all kicked off by Gershwin's inimitable Cuban Overture.
As you might guess, there was a lot of rhythm to play, with all the precision and control that that implies. It's very easy to think too much about rhythm, but I certainly had to clarify things in my own mind about how long to play a note, how loudly and with which accents - along, of course, with the basic question of when to play each note.
There was a section in Danzon 2, for example, that required the trombones to play syncopated stabs against the trumpet melody. A 4/4 bar was followed by 6/8, then 7/8 and then we had to come in on the first quaver offbeat of the next 4/4 bar. Whilst we certainly needed to figure out what we should be playing (and when), it soon became a question of feeling the rhythm, not counting it - and certainly not thinking about it.
All the while, confidence grew and I worked on improving my openness of sound as the necessary base.
The trombone writing in this programme was all about presence and poise. As I mentioned above, it was about precision accompanied by the ability to give each note, no matter how short, its best. For me, this was another semester of rediscovery of coolness whilst playing. I am slowly learning to relax whilst playing - especially in the throat, which I have always tended to tense up, thereby constricting the flow of air, and wasting energy. The concert was certainly energetic, but I feel I succeeded in playing with a rounder tone than before, and with a more relaxed concentration than I would have achieved in the past.
We had some personnel difficulties within the section, with the second trombone not really fitting in. He's a young guy and could very well learn the lessons that I've been learning myself - but he didn't manage to give the impression that he was aware of any lessons needing to be learned at all. In addition, he missed both rehearsal weekends, without giving any notice to us at all. That was the final straw. Our conductor and I took the decision to ask him not to play - and, despite my own need to try and avoid conflict, our relief at the decision having been taken was palpable.
Once that was cleared up, it was a case of hiring a pro to get us through the concerts - and what a pleasure it was, having him and the student tubist on board (our own tame tubist having had to skip this semester). We organised a sectional rehearsal on the Saturday before our set of concerts, and it was a revelation. Suddenly, we were all in tune, suddenly I felt that the musical messages that the conductor had spent the semester of rehearsals trying to get across, got across - albeit through my imperfect translations. Suddenly, we were a low brass section. Suddenly, it felt great to play in an orchestra again.
As always with the Musikfreunde, the orchestra got tighter and more lyrical over the course of the three concerts. The first was - as usual - a blast, as we hacked our way through most of the repertoire at a school concert, where we had to finish on time so that everybody could get home in time to watch the Germany - Brazil semi-final at the world cup.
The concert in Neustadt an der Weinstraße was better - less raucous, more controlled, but still somewhat overexcited. Finally, the Stadthalle concert went better than I had hoped for. My Mum, who also came along, noted the ultimate praise: nobody around her in the audience could keep still.
We had them dancing, and that's what it was all about.
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