Back on the Wagon

Greetings! Welcome to my website, begrudgingly created at the behest of a person who knows better than me. Sometimes, you must grin and bear it.

There is much to cover and too little mental bandwidth, so before I dig into #bassoongate2021 and my extreme disgust over it, Texas in general and just the whole municipal dump of a content buffet, I thought I'd keep it light and start with everyone's favorite topic: THE PANDEMIC! *release the confetti*

Okay, okay, I said I wouldn't get into #bassoongate2021, but the Teaching Artists Guild sent an open letter to TMEA expressing their issues with the situation. Linked is the letter, along with the contact information for the current TMEA Executive Director (Robert Floyd). The presenter's bassoon-centric, nay, bassoon-capitalistic/racist/ableist/dammit I said I wouldn't do this website has been shut down.

Back to happier things: a global pandemic that has upended all life on our little floating rock. *cheery emoji*

If you're anything like I am (which, I really hope you're not-for your own good), you've been massively depressed, anxious and uninspired for the better part of A FREAKING YEAR. Multiple factors are at play here, not just COVID-19, but fear not, dear sweet reader, we will get there in future posts.

Perhaps it's because the days are getting longer and the weather is not totally awful, or that there's at least a smidge of leadership with an eye toward controlling the pandemic (oh for Pete's sake, you again, Texas?), or perhaps it's that we've all developed "Space Madness" at this point, but I'm daring to feel...hope?

(To be sure, my statement of, "I feel hopeful," comes about as naturally as Mr. Burns' laugh.)

So, what do you do when you're suddenly inspired to again make music, but you're so out of shape that putting the instrument together makes you need a nap?

Well, since this is the musical equivalent of gaining 50 pounds (and don't you judge me, either) and trying to run a full marathon, some remediation is necessary. But guess what?

THAT IS ABSOLUTELY 100% FINE. YOU ARE AMAZING. GO YOU.

Step 1: Practice compassion with yourself and with others. Everything sucks for basically everyone except the ultra-wealthy, so give each other and yourself a little slack right now. One step at a time, champ.

Step 2: CHOOSE YOUR CARROT. This will hang ahead of you during the routine as a fun reward to play whence you've done some necessary work. This is your bassoonical equivalent of time in the hot tub after getting swole at the gym. Perhaps it's a favorite excerpt or an aspirational piece that you pick at from time to time; whatever it is, make sure it's something that gets you excited about returning for more!

Step 3: Put the instrument together (this is literally the hardest part). Noodle. Think, "Who designed this devil horn and why is so much asked of my thumbs?"

Step 4: Do some Caruso exercises to meditate, remember what blowing into the instrument feels like and be unconcerned with making beautiful noises. Just warm up that ol' embouchure.

Step 5: Have you passed out yet? Well, I guess if you had, you wouldn't be reading this. GREAT. Pick a scale. I suggest your favorite one (I love B-Major but B-Major doesn't love me, so I began my journey of a thousand reeds with good ol' C-Major). Do an entire Herzberg set. I know. It's much. But you will never, ever regret it.

Step 6: Wow, reeds sure do change a LOT. Maybe give your face and fingers a break for a hot second and do some reed work while you listen to awesome bassoon music. You know, set the mood, light some candles, take your first shower in 11 days...

Step 7: YOU ARE KILLING IT. After Milde, Jancourt, Piard, Allard etc., there's nothing so humbling as returning to the Weissenborn. What's that? You "outgrew" the Weissenborn before your braces got removed? WELL, you, my friend, are missing out. You could start at the very beginning and work on fundamentals, do the scale exercises if you're feeling frisky or, my personal favorite, revisit the etudes and laugh at the markings you left fifteen years ago. (Obvi play some of them, or one of them, or none of them-but play something!). There is always, always something to be learned from that tome.

Step 8: EAT THE CARROT. Play your little heart out and do so with abandon. You've earned it. My personal jam is the solo from Tchaikovsky's 6th because I love a bittersweet melody. I've also ordered some new music (Hailstork!) and cannot wait to do a deep dive into his piece.

Step 9: Pat yourself on the back because you just took the hardest step: the very first one. Remember how awesome you feel right now (even if your wrists are fussin' and your lips are trembling), and ride that wave to tomorrow's practice session. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU. YOU ARE SO PROUD OF YOU. GO YOU.

Whatever you do, know that you are doing exactly what you need to be doing at this moment. We are experiencing a collective trauma on multiple fronts and there is no pressure to be "doing the most" right now.

You are doing enough.

You are enough.

I think that's enough for today, friends. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon!