I'm sitting in front of the piano, ready to play another piece. I want to write a bit first before I continue... Maybe I should fill my tummy, it's grumbling. Dinner was rushed, didn't even finish it! Only had twenty minutes to pack everything, get ready and board the bus!
Yes, competition is over.
Best performance, gold class. Finally, after 17 years of my life, I've shed tears of joy. They didn't flow down my cheeks, but they did flood my eyes. I was happy... Really happy. So happy that it could only last for one minute.
Winning is one thing, enjoying myself up there and making music is another. This round, I enjoyed myself and in the end, we were the best-- not because of technique, but because we played from our hearts. Candidly, there were bands that had far more superior techniques, but at the end of the day, they only did what the piece of sheet music wanted.
Who knew that a little competition like this could make me believe in myself? It actually made me realise that I'm more than what I give myself credit for. I guess I was appointed section leader-- without my consent-- because they saw much more in me than I ever did. I'm not the shining star, I'm just one of the colours that make up the dark skies, making the beauty of those glistening rocks more noticeable. I know I'm not good enough to be the main soloist, but I still solo all the time. In case everyone forgets, I'm the forever alone bass trombonist... Nobody wants my part.
I thought I was being ridiculously soft while playing and sounded really bad... But damn, I could hear myself in my sister's recording. I actually facepalmed myself when I did. I was a bit too loud! But it's really tiring for a trombonist to play it soft T^T
Junt seems to be really inspirational this round. Technique isn't something that can stop you from making good music. Just play with your heart and your audience will be drawn to you. Of course, if we didn't have any technique at all, we wouldn't have been able to go up on stage! The audience are just like tomatoes, ignore them and play like they're deaf and they'll end up becoming clapping tomatoes.
Hm... Damn camera man made me really God damned nervous. Always beside me, even tried shooting directly at my face! But then, I freaked out, played a few airy notes and he decided to finally move away. Thank God for that large bell of my Yamaha! If not, my face would have been up on the big screens... I guess I can't handle a tomato that's holding a camera.
We did make some mistakes up there, but the performance was still breathtaking, making people forget to breathe. Judge Robert said he forgot to breathe during a part in Fate of the Gods. Our flutist was greatly complimented by lady judge, but the only change that was suggested to made was... He should stop moving his body so much. It would affect the air pressure inside his body, thus affecting sound projection. Expressive, that boy; a little too expressive. I think he did improve though, a year ago, it was as if he was gently head-banging to his own delicate solos.
After this little national-level competition, I think I've become a better musician. It's thanks to Junt's words, that technique isn't what's important and the music we play is what we want it to be, not what the score wants it to be. After all, the sheet music is just a dead piece of A4 paper. I think my piano playing might have impoved a little since I'm happy with how I end up playing my music, instead of following printed A4 paper all the way...
My, my, look at the time!
0133
Neighbors, please tell me you can't hear my playing!
2 comments:
It's a process of every musician I guess, amateur or professional. Glad you learnt this much from the experience, I can also take that word of advice from Junt. Didn't know he came back this round to teach.
Oh? I thought it was understandable that he would come back to teach... Hmm...
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