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Backstage the only audible thing was soft tuning. A gentle hand touched my shoulder, "Ready?" It was my conductor, Osman. "My hands are sweating," I replied as I stared at the entrance to the stage. "You will be amazing." He continued walking and stepped out on stage. The audience applauded, became quiet, and chamber begun. Mozart's Magic Flute Overture was gorgeous and a satisfied applause came from the crowd. I was next.
I was cautious not to trip on my royal blue silk dress. I stepped into the light, blinded and deafened by the roar of applause. I couldn't hear the reminders going through my head-B flat measure 270, watch Osman, listen to the beat, Demeris this is your moment. I walked to center stage and froze. I bowed, thanking the audience for their enthusiasm. I quickly tuned, then glanced at Osman. I was ready.
Osman raised his enamel baton; the orchestra followed and raised their shining instruments. Scene De Ballet began with roaring chords in the violins and lively eight notes in the cellos. The music filled the auditorium. My entrance was coming and I started to count the beats-- "I and 2 and 3 and 4 and,"-- nervous I would be early or miss my entrance. "1 and..." I put the red violin to my shoulder and rested my chin upon it. I grazed my left hand down the smooth neck and placed my bow on the string. "2 and..." I could feel my heart beat in my hands. My legs shook under the silk, and my head pounded with heat. I could feel the stare and high expectations of the crowd. They wanted to be amazed. I began to doubt my ability to perform. In anxiety I thought, "Nine years, Demeris. Nine years of practice and dedication. Ignore the people and play for yourself. It's your moment." "3 and..." I took a slow breath, closed my eyes and listened to the orchestra. "4 and..."with my exhale, I begun to play the Adagio Cantabile.
The more I played, the more the confidence bubbled in me. I felt my legs relax and the steel butterflies leave my stomach. My hands dried and my head stopped pounding. Any thoughts of doubt or failure left my mind and body. I let my mind go black and concentrated on feeling the music. As the music internalized itself within me, my body started swaying with the pulse. Instead of counting "1 and 2 and..." I felt the beat in my fingers, my legs, my arms, everywhere. I came to the realization that this performance was going to be easy now, simply because I was the music.
There I was, a blue star shining in the florescent spot lights. My skin was melting off my body my hands were sweating again. The pungent smell of rosin dust filled my lungs with every flying sixteenth note. My arms were getting sore and my fingers were turning red. Despite my discomfort, my adrenaline pushed me forward. A thought came to me, "If you make a mistake now, you can't freak out. Play the mistake with gusto and guts! Only you will know the difference..." The Bolero was coming to the end and my cadenza was a brooding thought. I could play the fast runs and bold double-stops easily at home, but in the spot light was different. In the back of my head the fear of stumbling on a double-stop or missing a run grew. A grand pause in the piece, the next note was the beginning of my Cadenza. I took a deep breath, and placed my bow on the string. I exhaled and let my fingers fly across the finger board. Runs, eight notes, double stops, staccato, all played perfectly. I played the last chord and heard the orchestra re-join me and instant relief rushed through my body.
The next chords were of the finale. As we ripped through the chords I couldn't help sense the grand and gorgeous sound we all made. The sound resonated in my body and made me shake. Every note I played became more passionate, more intense. I felt the sound vibrate in the hollow body beneath my chin and escape to become this grand melody. Last chord, I inhaled and with all the gusto left in my body played. It was the perfect blend of orchestra and solo.
I released the note, paused for a moment, and put my violin in rest position. The crowd cheered and applauded with guaranteed approval. I smiled and thought of how it was all worth it. The hours of practice, the frustrating moments, my callused bright red fingers; everything was worth the ten minuets of overflowing self confidence and the love from the audience. I walked into the back stage darkness. I waited seconds before re-entering, bowed again, and took my seat as concert mistress, ready to finish the concert.
When the concert was over, and after I graciously accepted compliments and hugs, I walked to my case. I packed my violin carefully into the black case and walked to the center of the stage. I took a long look at the velvet seats, the heavy green curtain, and the numerous black music stands. I could only think, "Wow, what a concert to remember."
Hi comments, critque, suggestions, anything would be of great help!!
Thanks! :)
Backstage the only audible thing was soft tuning. A gentle hand touched my shoulder, "Ready?" It was my conductor, Osman. "My hands are sweating," I replied as I stared at the entrance to the stage. "You will be amazing." He continued walking and stepped out on stage. The audience applauded, became quiet, and chamber begun. Mozart's Magic Flute Overture was gorgeous and a satisfied applause came from the crowd. I was next.
I was cautious not to trip on my royal blue silk dress. I stepped into the light, blinded and deafened by the roar of applause. I couldn't hear the reminders going through my head-B flat measure 270, watch Osman, listen to the beat, Demeris this is your moment. I walked to center stage and froze. I bowed, thanking the audience for their enthusiasm. I quickly tuned, then glanced at Osman. I was ready.
Osman raised his enamel baton; the orchestra followed and raised their shining instruments. Scene De Ballet began with roaring chords in the violins and lively eight notes in the cellos. The music filled the auditorium. My entrance was coming and I started to count the beats-- "I and 2 and 3 and 4 and,"-- nervous I would be early or miss my entrance. "1 and..." I put the red violin to my shoulder and rested my chin upon it. I grazed my left hand down the smooth neck and placed my bow on the string. "2 and..." I could feel my heart beat in my hands. My legs shook under the silk, and my head pounded with heat. I could feel the stare and high expectations of the crowd. They wanted to be amazed. I began to doubt my ability to perform. In anxiety I thought, "Nine years, Demeris. Nine years of practice and dedication. Ignore the people and play for yourself. It's your moment." "3 and..." I took a slow breath, closed my eyes and listened to the orchestra. "4 and..."with my exhale, I begun to play the Adagio Cantabile.
The more I played, the more the confidence bubbled in me. I felt my legs relax and the steel butterflies leave my stomach. My hands dried and my head stopped pounding. Any thoughts of doubt or failure left my mind and body. I let my mind go black and concentrated on feeling the music. As the music internalized itself within me, my body started swaying with the pulse. Instead of counting "1 and 2 and..." I felt the beat in my fingers, my legs, my arms, everywhere. I came to the realization that this performance was going to be easy now, simply because I was the music.
There I was, a blue star shining in the florescent spot lights. My skin was melting off my body my hands were sweating again. The pungent smell of rosin dust filled my lungs with every flying sixteenth note. My arms were getting sore and my fingers were turning red. Despite my discomfort, my adrenaline pushed me forward. A thought came to me, "If you make a mistake now, you can't freak out. Play the mistake with gusto and guts! Only you will know the difference..." The Bolero was coming to the end and my cadenza was a brooding thought. I could play the fast runs and bold double-stops easily at home, but in the spot light was different. In the back of my head the fear of stumbling on a double-stop or missing a run grew. A grand pause in the piece, the next note was the beginning of my Cadenza. I took a deep breath, and placed my bow on the string. I exhaled and let my fingers fly across the finger board. Runs, eight notes, double stops, staccato, all played perfectly. I played the last chord and heard the orchestra re-join me and instant relief rushed through my body.
The next chords were of the finale. As we ripped through the chords I couldn't help sense the grand and gorgeous sound we all made. The sound resonated in my body and made me shake. Every note I played became more passionate, more intense. I felt the sound vibrate in the hollow body beneath my chin and escape to become this grand melody. Last chord, I inhaled and with all the gusto left in my body played. It was the perfect blend of orchestra and solo.
I released the note, paused for a moment, and put my violin in rest position. The crowd cheered and applauded with guaranteed approval. I smiled and thought of how it was all worth it. The hours of practice, the frustrating moments, my callused bright red fingers; everything was worth the ten minuets of overflowing self confidence and the love from the audience. I walked into the back stage darkness. I waited seconds before re-entering, bowed again, and took my seat as concert mistress, ready to finish the concert.
When the concert was over, and after I graciously accepted compliments and hugs, I walked to my case. I packed my violin carefully into the black case and walked to the center of the stage. I took a long look at the velvet seats, the heavy green curtain, and the numerous black music stands. I could only think, "Wow, what a concert to remember."
Hi comments, critque, suggestions, anything would be of great help!!
Thanks! :)
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