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Semester recital
Mar. 29th, 2021 05:01 pmRik was near the end of the recital being near the top of his class and entering his final year of the program, that is if he passed. It wore his nerves thin as he roved around in circles in the halls behind the stage and the music rooms behind. He felt like he was going to vomit. Somehow this was worse than the stage, even worse than being recorded on stage with thousands of people screaming.
The music of the earlier musicians was making him crazy too. It wasn't that he blamed them. He probably made the same mistakes earlier in his career but while he was nervous the missed beats or notes were like the nails on chalkboard effect. It was madness. Then it got closer and he went to check on his harp, checking the tuning one last time. It gave his mind something to latch on to that wasn't nerves.
Then they took the harp away to the stage. It was now or never, teeth to the bit and Rik tried to calm himself. Things went to a blur when he stepped out on the stage. This was like going out to play guitar. The world faded away and it was just the music, the performance and his fingers on the strings. Walking to his harp he played one of the most technically beautiful harp pieces that had been written. It was challenging and beautiful. Vltava was a piece he turned to on the harp when he wanted to almost meditate which made it perfect for this situation.
The second piece he chose to play was Avant Garde by Phillip Glass. The piece was maddening in its speed and repetition with variation. On a technical level it mirrored the kind of layering he loved to put in his guitar playing. These were fine and Rik let his mind fall into the music, the tempo. Nothing else existed.
Rik stops and gets up from the harp to get a microphone abruptly.
"These recitals are supposed to show your talent and innovation so I decided to pick up a different kind of harp to write my own music on." Rik walks over and sets up the microphone at the harp stool and then pulls out a case to remove a 24 string harp guitar. "I had wrote something else for the harp but.. Uh.. I wrote this song for someone that's here tonight."
Sitting down he focuses on the the instrumental he wrote but unlike many of the other students he had put lyric to the music. He didn't have the voice of a lead singer but it's reasonable. He's calm until the music is done and then panics. Without it soothing away his nerves he breaks a little and stands up. The thank you is rushed and he leaves the stage.
Once he's behind the curtain, guitar still on his shoulder, he leans against the first stable wall and tries to get his nerves under control. His whole body is shaking enough that he's afraid to walk. His mind is on the fact that he may have screwed his chances of progressing to the next year with this stunt of using a non-traditional harp. That seemed less nerve shattering than the idea that he had sung the song at all.
Taking a breath he smiles when the recital crew hands him the case for his harp guitar. The full size harp they would take back to storage. He couldn't tote that around the world with him like some of the other instruments. Rik sat on the floor to put it away, afraid he might drop it. Then he went into the back knowing full well he would have to go out to the reception that they always held. To be honest he's not sure whether he dreads facing the professors who are going to ask what the hell he was doing or the people that he hoped, until this moment, had made it to the auditorium from the airport.
Stowing his instrument and bag in a locker behind the stage he made his way out into the public still in his tux with tails. There were some traditional things that he enjoyed about classical music. He wants a drink first and looks to the beverage counter, maybe they have wine or something stronger to settle his nerves.
The music of the earlier musicians was making him crazy too. It wasn't that he blamed them. He probably made the same mistakes earlier in his career but while he was nervous the missed beats or notes were like the nails on chalkboard effect. It was madness. Then it got closer and he went to check on his harp, checking the tuning one last time. It gave his mind something to latch on to that wasn't nerves.
Then they took the harp away to the stage. It was now or never, teeth to the bit and Rik tried to calm himself. Things went to a blur when he stepped out on the stage. This was like going out to play guitar. The world faded away and it was just the music, the performance and his fingers on the strings. Walking to his harp he played one of the most technically beautiful harp pieces that had been written. It was challenging and beautiful. Vltava was a piece he turned to on the harp when he wanted to almost meditate which made it perfect for this situation.
The second piece he chose to play was Avant Garde by Phillip Glass. The piece was maddening in its speed and repetition with variation. On a technical level it mirrored the kind of layering he loved to put in his guitar playing. These were fine and Rik let his mind fall into the music, the tempo. Nothing else existed.
Rik stops and gets up from the harp to get a microphone abruptly.
"These recitals are supposed to show your talent and innovation so I decided to pick up a different kind of harp to write my own music on." Rik walks over and sets up the microphone at the harp stool and then pulls out a case to remove a 24 string harp guitar. "I had wrote something else for the harp but.. Uh.. I wrote this song for someone that's here tonight."
Sitting down he focuses on the the instrumental he wrote but unlike many of the other students he had put lyric to the music. He didn't have the voice of a lead singer but it's reasonable. He's calm until the music is done and then panics. Without it soothing away his nerves he breaks a little and stands up. The thank you is rushed and he leaves the stage.
Once he's behind the curtain, guitar still on his shoulder, he leans against the first stable wall and tries to get his nerves under control. His whole body is shaking enough that he's afraid to walk. His mind is on the fact that he may have screwed his chances of progressing to the next year with this stunt of using a non-traditional harp. That seemed less nerve shattering than the idea that he had sung the song at all.
Taking a breath he smiles when the recital crew hands him the case for his harp guitar. The full size harp they would take back to storage. He couldn't tote that around the world with him like some of the other instruments. Rik sat on the floor to put it away, afraid he might drop it. Then he went into the back knowing full well he would have to go out to the reception that they always held. To be honest he's not sure whether he dreads facing the professors who are going to ask what the hell he was doing or the people that he hoped, until this moment, had made it to the auditorium from the airport.
Stowing his instrument and bag in a locker behind the stage he made his way out into the public still in his tux with tails. There were some traditional things that he enjoyed about classical music. He wants a drink first and looks to the beverage counter, maybe they have wine or something stronger to settle his nerves.
