Saturday was the coldest day of Chicago's ENTIRE winter season so far. And I had my Mancini Institute audition at 8:54 AM in downtown Chicago. So my sweetie offered to drive me downtown so I wouldn't have to brave the cold from the L stop. As we drove away from the house, the car was taking a LONG time to warm up. We passed a marquis that read -9degrees... which is about as cold as the car felt. In fact, by the time we cranked the heater on on highway 94, icy cold air STILL blasted out at us. The check engine light came on, and I noticed that Tom's radiator temperature was as high as the needle will go. "Tom, you need to pull over NOW."
We pulled into a local gas station, and after panicking, a call or three to Tom's dad, we determined that the radiator wasn't cracked, but the pipes were frozen, preventing any sort of engine coolant to reach the radiator. I asked a very friendly smokin' guy if there was a Jiffy Lube nearby, and there turned out to be one just a couple blocks up the road. Apparently Tom's car was ENTIRELY out of antifreeze. Yeah, and that'll do it every time.
I didn't have a contact number, and I called both Roosevelt University downtown and the Mancini home base in L.A. I left a message in L.A., but had kind of given up hope of playing for anyone that day. I had to teach in Evanston by the time the engine flush took place, so Tom and I dragged our feet back to Regenstein.
After my lesson was over, I got a message from this really chill guy named Carey who was running the Chicago auditions. He said he'd have time to squeeze me in - I'd just have to come back down into town. Tom and I once again made our way downtown (pulling over once more because smoke was coming out of the hood - turns out it was just coolant and stuff that had burbled over during the engine flush was burning off) and found Roosevelt University. The parking sucked, and I actually ended up paying $24 dollars for a stupid garage.
So after a 20 minute warmup and waiting outside for another 15 for an audition, I finally got in. I played the third movement of the Corigliano sonata, which he really dug. The Bach movement and the Dvorak movement were a little rough around the edges, but I kept up my musicality and struggled through.
And then came the sightreading. This stuff was REDICULOUS. Ledger lines were everywhere, and it ended on first position stuff marked 8va. I let the last note ring, hoping it was indeed the C# as marked on the paper, and thought to myself, "Well, crap."
So imagine my shock when Carey said, "Wow. I think that's the best sightreading I've heard all day." WHAT?? Now, this was great news, but the last time I heard those words, I was auditiong for the Denver Young Artists Orchestra as a senior in highschool, and I got a letter back stating that I was an alternate. I still kinda resent that.
But he followed this up with, "Okay, so when you get this letter in the mail I'm pretty sure you're gonna get inviting you to this..." Eeeeeee! All at once the future flashed in front of me - four weeks in L.A. with world class musicians, including the guy who was the concertmaster for the Simpsons orchestra for something like 12 years. It's a great place to make contacts and figure out how to make it as a musician in the real world. It's also a huge new music camp, as the orchestra doesn't really play any compositions written before 1950.
And I was just happy he didn't think I sucked.
Now, if I can get these movements memorized for Ribeiro, I'll have really REALLY accomplished something. I'm trying to take over the world this week... therefore, don't be mad if I don't call you back right away.
Previous | Next