Musical Autobiography Sample

I began playing the trumpet in the fifth grade. Back then, I loved playing the trumpet. We had band practice at the end of the school day every Tuesday and Thursday, and I looked forward to those rehearsals every single week. I loved it because in elementary school, the directors didn’t care about my tone quality. They didn’t care about how talented I was. They couldn’t care less whether or not I practiced. I loved it because it just gave me an opportunity to socialize with my friends more.

Like almost every other 3rd grader in my elementary school, when the enrichment program came to talk about joining the orchestra and band, I was fascinated. I admired the kids, not much older than me, who could play their instruments flawlessly and effortlessly. Immediately I knew that orchestra was for me, and I rushed home with a paper in hand begging my mom to let me take lessons at my school. Originally, I wanted to play the cello and pleaded with my mom to let me play one; I loved the deep, rich sounds of the strings. Instead, my mom convinced me to play the violin, a less expensive instrument and much easier to carry around than a cello.

In elementary, I was known as the best player for my patience and understanding of every piece we played in orchestra. “Your daughter is my best student in all 4 schools that I teach,” exclaimed my orchestra teacher, Ms. Nichols, to my mother. Ever since then, I have been practicing my violin every minute of every day. At the end of my sixth grade year, I received a letter stating that I have been invited to audition for the East Valley Youth Symphony. The desire I had to audition felt like someone hitting me with a hammer.The tears of joy that fell from my parents’ faces were overwhelming, but I knew there was no reason to celebrate because it wouldn’t be easy to get into. At that instant, I had a panic attack and couldn’t stop until the next morning.

Throughout my life, I have been taken by music. However, it was not until my 8th grade year in middle school that I realized that I could be a musician for the rest of my life. Before that, music just seemed like something to keep me out of trouble. I wasn’t the best player at that time, and I still knew very little about it all. How could something like that ever support someone? Still, it was the only talent that I could find any success in, and it was still very enjoyable, so I wanted to still give it a shot.

I don’t remember if it was my choice or my parents, but in 5th grade when we were given the choice to be in band, I was very anxious to start. We got to meet with Mrs. Jones and try a few different instruments before making a decision. My top three choices were percussion, trombone, and clarinet (only because my sister had played it). I tried the clarinet first and thought it was alright, but not my favorite. I tried the trombone next, and while it was difficult, I really wanted to keep trying. I also tried percussion- she just had me keep a beat on my leg- and I thought percussion may be difficult for me, but I still wanted to do it. In the end, Mrs. Jones decided I would be best fit for the clarinet, mostly because I could use my sisters and not have to buy a new instrument. I was happy with the choice, mostly because I was excited to be playing anything!

Anyone who has ever been in a high school band likely knows about the trumpet player stereotype: trumpet players are egotistical, and they are always trying to outdo one another. I know that stereotype well because I am a trumpet player, although I did not always know that I would gain a passion for music the way that I did. I was initially unsure of what instrument I would play or if I would even enjoy being in band. When I joined band at the beginning of sixth grade, we were allowed to try playing various instruments to determine which one we wanted to learn. The trumpet and alto saxophone were the first instruments to stand out to me, so I tried playing the trumpet first and was able to produce a fairly reasonable tone. On the other hand, I tried the saxophone, and it yielded what I described as a "farting noise" at the time. Aside from my sixth grade humor, I decided that I wanted to play the trumpet, and I have never regretted that decision.

Music is a passion of mine and has been for a long time (it's in my blood.) My dad played the bass guitar in a few groups, and he sings in our church's choir. His taste of music has been passed down and adopted by my brother and me.

In the first grade, I picked up a clarinet. It was my sister’s, collecting dust while waiting for me to play it. From the moment I produced my first sound, an ear-piercing squeal that frightened my dog, the path of my life took a turn for the better. I began teaching myself for the following three years, along with learning from my sister how to properly play the beautiful instrument. The music pushed me out of my comfort zone: concerts that forced me onstage, tests that made me play difficult songs, and teachers that pushed me to be an exceptional player. From the shy elementary school student I used to be to the outgoing band member I take joy in being today, music has shaped my everyday life.

Ever since I was a young kid, I was extremely fond of music. Music was all around me: on the television, in school, at the store, and especially in the car. Not only did I love to listen to music, but I loved to play it as well. I am not saying I was any good at playing music, because I was not. But to a young child, hitting their hand on anything could be music, and to me it definitely was.

Growing up I was always around musicians, and music interested me, but I was always steered towards more academics. I finally got into music in High-School. It made me rather nervous because here I was sitting in a room with people who basically played instruments and sung within the womb, and I was unable to even read music. So at first I asked my friends who were all music aficionados. Every second thing that came out of my mouth was a question about music. What was tone? How do I play a scale? What is moderato? And how on earth was I going to catch up to these kids? So especially in band I took control and I took my French horn home every weekend and practiced for hours, determined to meet my high standards.

Ever since I was a small child, I have loved music. The strong, steady beats, the

In fourth grade I started playing Alto saxophone for my grade school band. Three years later I learned Baritone saxophone for my middle school band. In another year I joined a choir. By the end of high school I had been in six different bands, learned to play several instruments, joined two different choirs, taken multiple music theory class, and starred in more than a dozen musicals. My love for the arts started early in my life, my mother is an artist and my father is a musician and a head designer for a stationary company. The arts were alive in my household, jazz was usually played during dinners, my mom would paint a few times a week, and my dad seemed to always spend at least an hour a night fine tuning his classical guitar skills.

What can appear to gleam and reflect such beauty and craftsmanship yet can be handled by a three year old. It’s sound so pure by a touch of a finger has been in existence for well over a hundred years and is the foundation for creating music. It’s black and white keys produce sounds when played correctly that can bring tears to one’s eyes, touch your heart and soul, bring hope, or even joy and laughter to an event. All of this power… lies in the piano. The piano from its creation to this very second had transformed the world of music no matter what class, talent, and ability.

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Memoir My depression lies dormant, and then distorts My depression lies Censorship Fuck The Showcase Let’s bring them up To put them down While we move on They don’t respond Standing real still Keeping to themself