Girl on Fire

I sometimes make the mistake of thinking that I'm really witty.

For some reason, I put it into my head that I have these really good jokes.  Sometimes I don't even need anyone to laugh at them but I think they are just the funniest things on the planet.  So, I recycle them.  Over and over.  And over.  Like the plastic bag that's been turned into everything from a pencil to a work of art back to another plastic bag (because the first time wasn't exciting enough).  And sometimes, that plastic bag needs to be put to rest for good.  So do these jokes of mine.

One of my "favorites" was a comparison between high school and the Hunger Games.  College applications throw us into a ring and we try to destroy every one else in the ring so we can survive.  Some can play it cool and just try to outlast without killing but others go about it in a more bloodthirsty fashion by sabotaging each other.  Giving false critiques on resumes, poor advice, backstabbing, figuratively and literally.  Well, not literally but I think we've all been close.  

So, this Hunger Games reference is my joke.  I used it all the time in almost every college essay.  Even in my NYO essay.  No lie.  But the thing was, I never read the Hunger Games.  Didn't even see the movie so I could be scoffed at by the devotees to the "original intent of the author".  Excuse my ignorance.  

Whenever I used this joke, I didn't know what I was talking about.  But this summer, I broke down and read the books, all three...in four days. I watched the movie too so I could now do my bit of scoffing as well.  Think aristocratic cocktail party laugh while swirling their glass of wine and that's where I'm at.  Guffaw.

But now, after thoroughly reading the books, I am able to make another Hunger Games reference albeit not as reusable.  I am now the girl on fire.  

Let me explain.

Before we got to NYO, all wind players were given our part assignments ahead of time based on our audition tapes.  But string players had seating auditions.  Yeah, I was really bummed about not having to stress out and over-prepare for an evaluation of my playing.  I haven't done any of those before while applying to college.  None.  So yeah, really broken up about it.

So because of this, the strings spent the morning of the first day auditioning while the wind players had sectionals.  The horn section is extremely fortunate to work with William Vermuelen from Rice University and David Krauss who plays trumpet...oh and they are also principals of the Houston Symphony and Metropolitan Opera respectively.  No big deal.  Life ambitions.  Whatevs.

So, the first time we all got to play together as a full orchestra was in the evening.  

Everyone has expectations for an opportunity like this.  Everyone thinks that they have some idea of what it will be like, how it will sound, who they'll be friends with, or in my personal case, who will be able to tolerate their antics for more than two outrageously corny jokes.  But quite honestly, first rehearsals are almost always a disaster: Take 120 young people from different parts of the world and ask them to perform that ice-breaker human knot exercise and you just end up with a giant mass of arm, legs, and a dash of awkward.  Ask them to perform a piece of music?  Oy vey.  Because of the frequency of losing track of where the orchestra is, like to call that a "all children left behind" rehearsal.  Those were my expectations.

I was more wrong than I have ever been in my life.  Shostakovich's Symphony No. 10 starts with a string opening and with the drop of the downbeat, the basses revealed the most deep and resonant sound that just echoed with a soft power.  The upper strings chime in, seamlessly supporting and moving in this gigantic wave of one and yet, of many.  It seems so effortless, yet I know full well how much persistence and how many hours are invested in many orchestras striving for tone concepts such as the ones demonstrated with in the first section of the piece.  A group of people who had met merely yesterday was already revealing to each other their deepest emotions and allowing others' emotions to replace their own.  A teasing and flirtatious piccolo to a woeful and broad bowing.  All in unison broadcasting a message.  Broadcasting our message.  This was a feeling I had never experienced until this moment.  And with so many emotions, all I could do was smile.  A smile of pure and unmatched happiness.   

We didn't know each other less than 24 hours ago and it felt as though we'd been playing together ever since we had first fallen in love with our art. The entire rehearsal I wasn't lost once.  I knew exactly where we were and I knew that everyone else knew exactly where we were.  We were home.  We were together at last.  And it was such a joyous reunion.

There really aren't words to describe how I feel.  But, I thought back to the Hunger Games for just a brief moment and thought that if there ever were an opportunity to use "girl on fire" this would be it.  Burning from within, I am the girl on fire.  We are the orchestra on fire.  

So, I hope desperately that you will be able to hear us play somehow.  If you do, I have some words of wisdom.  Even though it can get cold in a concert hall, there's no need to bring a jacket.  I have a feeling that we will keep it pretty warm during our performances. 

Now that I think about it, I really like that "orchestra on fire" line.  I might just have to recycle that one.