Thanks for the read. I think it would be interesting (and humbling) if more principals (or other) players like yourself wrote about the audition that won them their dream job. It might make an interesting compilation to hear about those who didn't win an audition, but later ended up in very prominent positions.
-William -----Original Message----- From: Robert Ward <[email protected]> To: Horn Mailing List - old <[email protected]>; Horn Mailing List New <[email protected]> Sent: Wed, Aug 10, 2011 12:49 pm Subject: [Hornlist] my 1980 audition Hi all, Recently, I submitted this short piece of writing to The Sun magazine for their monthly "Readers Write" pages. The topic was "Rites of Passage" and although it was not chosen, I thought that some of you might find it interesting to read. Hope you are all enjoying this summer. **** It’s January, 1980. I’m squinting into the bright lights, standing on the bare stage of the Opera House in San Francisco, trying to make out the shapes of the committee seated in the audience that will decide my fate. I’m gripping my horn, getting ready to audition for a first-chair position in the San Francisco Symphony’s horn section, and I have only two remaining rivals from a field that started yesterday with 75 players from all over the United States. An audition is the test that anyone who wants to play in a big-time orchestra must pass, and how you play in those 15 minutes will determine whether you become a member of an elite fraternity, or return to a patchwork existence of uncertain freelance employment. I try and clear my mind, willing myself to let go of what has come before and keeping myself from imagining what my then 24-year-old self cannot know about what lies ahead: a 30-year career, standing ovations in the capitals of Europe, a circle of close friends and colleagues, a complete Mahler Symphony cycle as first horn. It happens quickly, yet time is somehow elongated too. The Music Director stands in front of me, uncomfortably close, and conducts me alone in a prominent solo. I have to think fast to navigate a tricky unexpected piece that they ask to try and trip me up (rhythm - it’s all about feeling the rhythm, I say to myself, channeling my inner metronome). My sound fills the hall with the power of Siegfried’s Call, fearlessly waking the dragon. Then suddenly there is no more music on the stand, I hear a smattering of individual applause, and the three of us begin to wait together on couches in the Green Room, awkwardly caught between camaraderie and competition. Only now does my heart start to pound, wondering what the result will be, my mind racing into the future. The wait seems interminable, but then - a knock. The job is mine. I get handshakes and congratulations from the others, but their eyes tell me what they are really thinking. I’m numb, hardly knowing what to think, but later, back home in Denver standing under a streetlight at the airport with the snowflakes gently falling as I wait for a ride, I realize that everything has changed - the next chapter is beginning and I wonder whether I’m ready. **** Robert N. Ward Principal Horn San Francisco Symphony [email protected] _______________________________________________ post: [email protected] unsubscribe or set options at https://pegasus.memphis.edu/cgi-bin/mailman/options/horn/valkhorn%40aol.com _______________________________________________ post: [email protected] unsubscribe or set options at https://pegasus.memphis.edu/cgi-bin/mailman/options/horn/archive%40jab.org
