Band Concert Narrative

I hurried to get dressed with a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up past my cast. I also wore a red tie and black skinny jeans. I could only sing so we had to use the track guitar. Last thing I had to do was my vocal warmups. I finished and went to the side of the stage. My mind was swirled with thoughts as the video ran and our cue was said to go on stage. My microphone was on me and I was as ready as I was ever going to be. We all ran on stage and started to play. We started with undisclosed desires. Since I didn’t have my guitar to play it gave me a chance to rest and just

Those girls were a division higher than my team; so, as I watched their arms gracefully swing from side to side; their legs kicking into the air in a beautiful battement; and, the nearly flawless transitions, I wondered how much hard work and how many rehearsal hours they put in to achieve those movements with such ease. The spotlight highlighting their every move had me in awe. The song slowly started to fade out and the loud, obnoxious thumping in my chest resurfaced. With shaky legs and uneven breathing I hesitantly made my way onto the stage and got into position. Looking into the crowd, I could see hundreds of faces staring back at me; some familiar, some I had never seen in my life. This gave me a feeling of nostalgia taking me back to that first day of dance class when all eyes were on me. I could not hear anything around me except my heartbeat in my chest. I remembered how aesthetically pleasing the dancers prior presented themselves on stage and told myself to get it together. I had to give it my all and not let my team down, but most importantly I could not let myself down. I looked at my friend, who posed just to the left of me, for reassurance and she gave me such a genuine smile. I could see it in her eyes that she believed in me. I looked at my surrounding and thought “This is what I’ve been working towards. This is where I want to be.” All the negative thoughts that previously invaded my mind faded. My breathing began to even out as the lights dim signaling that the song would start any

Standing backstage, mentally going through every measure of music for our performance, me and the other percussionists representing Prosper were about to play our three ensembles that we prepared for the North Texas Percussion Festival. With the group before us finishing their last song, we were all mentally preparing to show the judges the best of what we had spent hours practicing for after school and late into the night. Before we went on stage to set up everything, I thought of where I was just three years ago, not knowing how to properly hold mallets or work well with a group of people.

The music started playing like I’ve heard before time and time again, morning practice after morning practice. In that moment I wanted to win. We deserved to win no matter what size of band we were, we worked to get into finals and I wanted to put on the best performance of the season. I took my first step into my spot on the squishy turf field and did what I’ve done multiple times before. Next thing I know I’m in my position on the field playing my last chord of our performance feeling utterly exhausted and like I’ve just ran a marathon. I felt like we all gave it everything we had and then the crowd stands up and gives us a standing ovation. It was the most incredible feeling I had ever gotten. At that moment everything seemed worth it, all of the six a.m. practices, the two weeks of band camp, running through the same sets over and over again in the ninety degree weather. Everything seemed like it wasn’t that bad, I didn’t want to be anywhere else in that moment. Then I heard the snare drum, amongst all of the applause, leading us off of the field. Once we were off everybody was tearing up and saying that they gave that performance all they had. Now all we had to do was wait until all of the others were done performing until we could figure out what we got. It was pure torture

Over eighteen thousand people, of all ages, gender, shape, and size, had assembled for the sole purpose of listening to one band perform. Almost giddy with anticipation, I turned to look at my friend, ignoring the dizzying drop below, and was ecstatic to see the same level of wonder on her face. Concert had been such a foreign word until now. Lights flared from overhead, coupled with the glow of thousands of flashlights that blinked from the crowd. As the once brightly-lit room suddenly went dim, a deafening wave of screams resounded with enthusiasm. The lead singer crossed the stage trying to build up the already intense fervor that hung palpably in the

Standing on stage behind The Philadelphia Orchestra, I peered into the empty auditorium. The red velvet-lined seats were plush; the crown molding was elegant and classic. As I stood on the stage of Carnegie Hall’s Isaac Stern Auditorium, I wished I had smuggled my camera onstage to capture the scene from my vantage point as some of my fellow choristers of The Philadelphia Singers had done. Here I was, at the mere age of twenty-five, performing on the same stage as musical greats such as Enrico Caruso, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Yo-Yo Ma, Joni Mitchell, and Itzhak Perelman. In the moment I felt scared and excited, and unsure I even deserved to be there.

The concert ended with a very energetic song, which all the musicians in the stage played in. This arrangement was very rock/country like. A vocalist accompanied the orchestra. His vibrant personality and style of singing help the audience really engage in the

Just a few days ago we were heading in the opposite direction. When I say “we” I mean all of us, the whole band. It’s a sort of mentality that was driven into us since sixth grade, that we are a collective unit and are only as strong as our weakest player. I was once again alone in my bus seat with my headphones on, blasting some sort of screaming music into my already damaged ears. Even though it was still day I slept away most of the trip. The bus was heading towards Indianapolis; the Godwin Heights marching band of 2010 was having its final hurrah at the Lucas Oil Stadium. We had just got first at the Ford Field House which was hosted by The Michigan Competing Band Association, and our hopes were high to repeat that. The show that year was

”Catherine, you got this. Do not be nervous,” I whisper to myself. I am on the sidelines waiting for my band to be called. My head is filled with fear, an emotion that had made itself home before every performance. Looking ahead, I see the 50 yard line where I will start the show.

As discussed throughout this course music is a bridge that brings people together. As I sat through this concert I looked around and noticed that there was a great mixture of cultures and races attending despite the small attendance for the event. Socially I noticed that people were conversing and laughing with one another. Parents were engaging and being attentive to their young children as they ran around on skates and scooters. It made an impression on me that it was a time that for many people, was a bonding experience. Memories were being made for people of all ages.

Yet I stood there, on the brightly lit stage with a shadow on the thousands of seats spread across in front of me. I could not help but inspect every detail of the place, trying not to be conspicuous. The music echoed off the walls as we played our warm up music and grins slowly radiated on everyone's faces. I played out as loud as I could and forgot all about my nervousness, partially due to not being able to hear myself, and had the greatest time of my life.

Marching season is one of my favorite parts of the school year. With marching season comes homecoming and during the homecoming game the band has to sit on the ground bleachers because of the amount of people who come to that game compared to the other games. We were excited for the game because we were about to present how hard we had worked in preparation to make everything look and sound good.

The Cosumnes River College Orchestra and Band presented their performance at Recital Hall last Wednesday. The event was presented by Jim Mazzaferro and Grant Parker. The Concert Orchestra portion, conducted by Jim Mazzaferro, consisted of collection of pieces composed by notable composers such as: Johann David Heinichen, Antonin Devorak, Antonio Vivaldi, Martin Grayson, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Concert Orchestra started with “Sonata for Violin, Flute, Oboe Viola and Bassoon” by Johann David Heinichen and continued with “Slavonic Dance No.3” by Antonin Dvorak. “Slavonic Dance No. 8” was the last composition in Orchestra’s program. After the intermission event continued with the Concert Band performance directed by Grant Parker. The program

It was mid-September but it was still 90 degrees. The blistering heat mixed with the 100% humidity and the approaching thunderstorm made for a typical marching day.We were in the band room. You know, the room where all the music nerds carry on. Where the tears of anger, pain, joy and happiness are shed. The room with the old musty, dirty, smell and the floor that is engulfed in everyone’s spit and dirt. The enter if you dare room.You know the one right? Everyone was getting their marching uniforms on. Pristine, clean, and ready for a miserable but yet heartwarming show. The freshman’s first band show and the seniors last. Thunder over Aurora band show is supposed to be like no other but the day was about to change. Our heavy metal halftime

In my church’s charity event, I stand behind a microphone and a music stand. My ears hear clamorous noises. I am waiting for what seems like an eternity. To my left, I hear high-pitched vocal warm-ups. To my right I hear blasting and loud eruptions from the tuning of instruments that vibrate the stage. At a distance I hear low beats and piercing crashes, with occasional hums and heels of bass. Finally, it is time to start. I cough a little to prepare my voice. The whole ensemble sits in silence, observing and anticipating. I see the rhythm of the director’s hands moving in a beat to give us singers the tempo. All at once, an army of voices starts singing in harmony. On my left, I hear a perfect euphony of high-pitched and low-pitched singing.