I am currently sitting in an empty, dark, completely quiet sanctuary. I have eleven minutes left.
The day started at 5:30 with an alarm clock ringer. Then a recording of my trumpet practicing from the previous day as I went for my morning run.
Then some upcoming orchestra music in the car as I drove into Lima for a teaching day. Once there I practiced for about 40 minutes, loud long tones and lip trills as I prepped for a big broadway show with lots of big-band style playing.
Then the kids started coming. A saxophone lesson. A bassoon lesson.
Elementary band. Twenty three 4-6 graders who can't wait to squeak and squawk and honk on their instruments. An hour of nonstop noise. Banging and shuffling of drums even when they did cut off quietly. But most of the time they just keep on playing, or start playing music from last semester. One of the kids tipped over a snare drum.
And then the bell rings, and it's straight from elementary band into trumpet lessons, six kids blatting and trying to lunge into the high register by sheer force of will, each one practicing their own assignment as I go down the line kneeling in front of whoever is playing their lesson for me. And then straight from there into High School band.
More kids clomping in, banging on percussion instruments, playing their doodles on the piano, trying to decipher fast licks and big jumps and high notes as they warm up.
It's been non-step cacophony for the last five and a half hours. And now I have four more minutes until the next lesson group comes in.
Then there will be a quiet drive to Houghton. I think I'll pass on listening to the radio today.
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Monday, January 26, 2015
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Quick Hitters
I. This is the first and last year I do a cantata. I expected that it would be sort of like doing a simplified oratorio. You know, show up in a suit, conduct 30 minutes of music, polite applause at the end. Actually it's the sacred equivalent of a community musical. There are costumes, staging concerns, hurt feelings, and multiple emails per day. Still, if you'd like to hear the cantata, come to my church next Sunday. I hired some good musicians...here's hoping it comes off okay.
II. I missed the best Bills game of the year because I was playing Holiday Pops in Oswego. J watched the whole thing and texted me updates. When I got back she came the closest yet to confessing that she's become a Bills fan. "I would still root for the Steelers if they met in the playoffs," she said "but I know so much about the team, and they're on every week...and it's hard not to root for you guys."
III. I'm teaching a nine year old boy how to play the flute. That's wrong on a bunch of different levels. He forgets his instrument a lot, and he has trouble remembering the notes. Two months in, he still puts his fingers in the wrong spot and can only consistently remember how to play a D. Plus, he blows as hard/fast as he can whenever he tries to get a sound. "Alex," I said "you need to blow a lot slower air if you're going to play the flute." He answered "Well, I was born fast, so it's kind of hard for me to go slower." "Hmm. Alex, I'm wondering...because you were born fast, you know, and you like to blow fast...maybe you would enjoy playing the trombone? Because, you need to blow really fast to play the trombone. But flute, you know, that's more of a slow air instrument. What do you think?" "No, I don't think so." Then he leaned in and whispered "I tried the trombone once and the moving thingy came back and hit me, so I am a little scared of the trombone.'
IV. James isn't quite sure what to make of J nursing Owen. The first time he really noticed it (and it went on under his nose for quite some time before he looked up from whatever George was doing) he looked at them both with a puzzled expression and said "Mommy, what's Owen doing?" "Owen's hungry. He needs to eat." James then shouted at his younger brother. "Owen, stop eating Mommy's tummy! That's not food!" Apparently today, however, J asked whether Owen would like to get a cookie and a piece of cheese from Wegmans. James said that no, he not. He just wants to eat Mommy's tummy.
II. I missed the best Bills game of the year because I was playing Holiday Pops in Oswego. J watched the whole thing and texted me updates. When I got back she came the closest yet to confessing that she's become a Bills fan. "I would still root for the Steelers if they met in the playoffs," she said "but I know so much about the team, and they're on every week...and it's hard not to root for you guys."
III. I'm teaching a nine year old boy how to play the flute. That's wrong on a bunch of different levels. He forgets his instrument a lot, and he has trouble remembering the notes. Two months in, he still puts his fingers in the wrong spot and can only consistently remember how to play a D. Plus, he blows as hard/fast as he can whenever he tries to get a sound. "Alex," I said "you need to blow a lot slower air if you're going to play the flute." He answered "Well, I was born fast, so it's kind of hard for me to go slower." "Hmm. Alex, I'm wondering...because you were born fast, you know, and you like to blow fast...maybe you would enjoy playing the trombone? Because, you need to blow really fast to play the trombone. But flute, you know, that's more of a slow air instrument. What do you think?" "No, I don't think so." Then he leaned in and whispered "I tried the trombone once and the moving thingy came back and hit me, so I am a little scared of the trombone.'
IV. James isn't quite sure what to make of J nursing Owen. The first time he really noticed it (and it went on under his nose for quite some time before he looked up from whatever George was doing) he looked at them both with a puzzled expression and said "Mommy, what's Owen doing?" "Owen's hungry. He needs to eat." James then shouted at his younger brother. "Owen, stop eating Mommy's tummy! That's not food!" Apparently today, however, J asked whether Owen would like to get a cookie and a piece of cheese from Wegmans. James said that no, he not. He just wants to eat Mommy's tummy.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Smith Academy
It's been a longstanding joke between the brothers that we ought to buy houses next to one another and split up the tasks of childcare and education between all six households. That way every set of parents has one busy day and five days off. And the sabbath, I suppose. Our wives all find this to be a hilarious and innately practical idea as well.
I've actually been doing some preparatory reading about homeschooling recently. I found a copy of Susan Bauer's The Well Trained Mind and read it over the summer. It was helpful to see a structured K-12 arrangement of what a classical education might look like for James. I made notes of the resource lists, and nodded in agreement with her curriculum recommendations. I even tried to do a little bit of introductory phonics with James. This is how it went:
"Okay James, if you can tell me what this letter is I'll give you one raisin."
"I want five raisins."
"You can have five raisins if you spell five letters."
"George is wanna eat five raisins, don't you George?"
<George nods>
"Okay, what's this letter right here?"
"ARREE YOUUU WEADDYYY...FOR CHWISTMAS DAY TO COME!!!"
"James, do you want any raisins?"
"I want five raisins."
"Then what's this letter?"
"SIIIING IT WIT MEEEE, OR IF YOU A MONKEY HUMMM!!!!"
"James, what's this letter?"
"George is not wanna look at the letter C."
"That's right! This is the letter C! And what sound does it make?"
"I want five raisins."
"George George George George George."
"What sound does C make? C says...."
"Daddy, you wanna go outside?"
"After you tell me what the letter C says."
"I need FIVE raisins."
At any rate, Bauer's book confirmed many of the inkling ideas I had about classical education: that the grammar school years should be spent doing, well, grammar. Kindergarten through 4th grade for James (and for any of his cousins who live across the street from us) will be heavy on the reading, spelling, and composition. There will be lots of talk about how to take apart a sentence and put it back together. The mathematics will be about building blocks, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Insofar as there is any foreign language work, it will be more about vocabulary and grammar than spoken fluency or cultural background. There will be very little in the way of tech education, and lots in the way of history and stories. Music lessons will probably be a little heavier on the music theory and a little lighter on the lesson book tunes than a traditional method. Then in 5th through 8th grade or thereabouts the emphasis will shift towards logic and argument in each of the disciplines, ending with rhetoric and specialization in the high school years.
But first I need to buy more raisins.
The preceding blog was brought to you in part by Lucas Smith, who promises to send me a prompt every day for the next thirty days in conjunction with my promise to respond to each prompt with a short blog.
I've actually been doing some preparatory reading about homeschooling recently. I found a copy of Susan Bauer's The Well Trained Mind and read it over the summer. It was helpful to see a structured K-12 arrangement of what a classical education might look like for James. I made notes of the resource lists, and nodded in agreement with her curriculum recommendations. I even tried to do a little bit of introductory phonics with James. This is how it went:
"Okay James, if you can tell me what this letter is I'll give you one raisin."
"I want five raisins."
"You can have five raisins if you spell five letters."
"George is wanna eat five raisins, don't you George?"
<George nods>
"Okay, what's this letter right here?"
"ARREE YOUUU WEADDYYY...FOR CHWISTMAS DAY TO COME!!!"
"James, do you want any raisins?"
"I want five raisins."
"Then what's this letter?"
"SIIIING IT WIT MEEEE, OR IF YOU A MONKEY HUMMM!!!!"
"James, what's this letter?"
"George is not wanna look at the letter C."
"That's right! This is the letter C! And what sound does it make?"
"I want five raisins."
"George George George George George."
"What sound does C make? C says...."
"Daddy, you wanna go outside?"
"After you tell me what the letter C says."
"I need FIVE raisins."
At any rate, Bauer's book confirmed many of the inkling ideas I had about classical education: that the grammar school years should be spent doing, well, grammar. Kindergarten through 4th grade for James (and for any of his cousins who live across the street from us) will be heavy on the reading, spelling, and composition. There will be lots of talk about how to take apart a sentence and put it back together. The mathematics will be about building blocks, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Insofar as there is any foreign language work, it will be more about vocabulary and grammar than spoken fluency or cultural background. There will be very little in the way of tech education, and lots in the way of history and stories. Music lessons will probably be a little heavier on the music theory and a little lighter on the lesson book tunes than a traditional method. Then in 5th through 8th grade or thereabouts the emphasis will shift towards logic and argument in each of the disciplines, ending with rhetoric and specialization in the high school years.
But first I need to buy more raisins.
The preceding blog was brought to you in part by Lucas Smith, who promises to send me a prompt every day for the next thirty days in conjunction with my promise to respond to each prompt with a short blog.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Quick Hitters
I.
"Mommy, I need to read my Greek book."
"What's he talking about?"
James comes back in holding Richard Scarry's Best Big First Book.
"You need to read me my Greek book."
We're not sure where that one came from.
II.
We moved C&B again. They move so often that I end up feeling pretty good about our six places of residence. But now that they've moved, we're next. We'll be inheriting their boxes soon, and then packing up the house again. I'm glad that we had a practice move before starting work on this one. C&B are very efficient packers/planners. They had every box neatly stacked up in the living room, and a good plan for loading the truck. All of my lifting muscles are now in shape, and I have a huge bruise on my right thigh. I'm not looking forward to moving all our junk again, but here are three great parts about moving: 1) When you see all of your books getting packed and unpacked it makes you want to read them, even the books that have been right under your nose for a year and you've had no interest. There's something about changing it up that makes them all seem fresh. 2) A drink of cold beverage is never so refreshing as when you've put in a day of honest manual labor. (I have not done this since the last time we moved.) 3) L's running commentary of the moving process is pretty entertaining. All of his siblings will continue to move periodically just to hear him complain about it.
III.
"Daddy, George wants to go for a tractor ride."
"Can I talk to George?"
"George, you and James can't go for a tractor ride right now because it's raining. So, we need to stay inside. Do you understand? Okay, thanks George."
"Daddy, I wanna talk to George too."
"Okay, here he is."
"George, you wanna go for a tractor ride, George? You do? Daddy, George is wanna go for a tractor ride."
IV.
"Mr. Smith, I practiced my saxophone a lot this week."
"I can tell, you're doing a good job with your notes and your fingers. Don't forget to keep your right hand all the way down at the thumbrest."
"You know, I sound like a fire alarm."
"...Joe, that is exactly what you sound like."
V.
"Yes, could I have a large black coffee, please? And I'm a bottomless mug member."
"Sure, pull up to the window. Oh, hi, how are you?"
"Good, how are you? Have you met my wife, J?"
"Nice to meet you...what are you guys off to tonight?"
"Well, we've dropped off the little boy and we're out on a date."
"Oh, congratulations. What are you going to do?"
"Well, I guess actually I'll be going to work with RPO and J will be way up at the top of the balcony all evening."
"Yeah, I don't think that's actually a date."
VI.
Friday trumpet itinerary:
8:45 Rehearsal with organ (piccolo trumpet) for chapel service
11:00 Chapel service, processional and recessional
12:30 Trumpet lesson
1:30 Call from RPO about emergency subbing. 30 min. of practicing Berlioz
2:00 Trumpet lesson
2:30 Trumpet lesson
4:00 Trumpet lesson
6:15 Soundcheck for Turrin Intrada
7:30 Wind Ensemble piece
7:45 Turrin Intrada
8:15 Finale of Mahler 2
"Mommy, I need to read my Greek book."
"What's he talking about?"
James comes back in holding Richard Scarry's Best Big First Book.
"You need to read me my Greek book."
We're not sure where that one came from.
II.
We moved C&B again. They move so often that I end up feeling pretty good about our six places of residence. But now that they've moved, we're next. We'll be inheriting their boxes soon, and then packing up the house again. I'm glad that we had a practice move before starting work on this one. C&B are very efficient packers/planners. They had every box neatly stacked up in the living room, and a good plan for loading the truck. All of my lifting muscles are now in shape, and I have a huge bruise on my right thigh. I'm not looking forward to moving all our junk again, but here are three great parts about moving: 1) When you see all of your books getting packed and unpacked it makes you want to read them, even the books that have been right under your nose for a year and you've had no interest. There's something about changing it up that makes them all seem fresh. 2) A drink of cold beverage is never so refreshing as when you've put in a day of honest manual labor. (I have not done this since the last time we moved.) 3) L's running commentary of the moving process is pretty entertaining. All of his siblings will continue to move periodically just to hear him complain about it.
III.
"Daddy, George wants to go for a tractor ride."
"Can I talk to George?"
"George, you and James can't go for a tractor ride right now because it's raining. So, we need to stay inside. Do you understand? Okay, thanks George."
"Daddy, I wanna talk to George too."
"Okay, here he is."
"George, you wanna go for a tractor ride, George? You do? Daddy, George is wanna go for a tractor ride."
IV.
"Mr. Smith, I practiced my saxophone a lot this week."
"I can tell, you're doing a good job with your notes and your fingers. Don't forget to keep your right hand all the way down at the thumbrest."
"You know, I sound like a fire alarm."
"...Joe, that is exactly what you sound like."
V.
"Yes, could I have a large black coffee, please? And I'm a bottomless mug member."
"Sure, pull up to the window. Oh, hi, how are you?"
"Good, how are you? Have you met my wife, J?"
"Nice to meet you...what are you guys off to tonight?"
"Well, we've dropped off the little boy and we're out on a date."
"Oh, congratulations. What are you going to do?"
"Well, I guess actually I'll be going to work with RPO and J will be way up at the top of the balcony all evening."
"Yeah, I don't think that's actually a date."
VI.
Friday trumpet itinerary:
8:45 Rehearsal with organ (piccolo trumpet) for chapel service
11:00 Chapel service, processional and recessional
12:30 Trumpet lesson
1:30 Call from RPO about emergency subbing. 30 min. of practicing Berlioz
2:00 Trumpet lesson
2:30 Trumpet lesson
4:00 Trumpet lesson
6:15 Soundcheck for Turrin Intrada
7:30 Wind Ensemble piece
7:45 Turrin Intrada
8:15 Finale of Mahler 2
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
News
Well, the year started again and I got BUSY. It was such a lovely summer. I could blog almost every day, except on the busy days when I might have the incredible imposition of one random lesson to teach, or a single orchestra service out in a field somewhere. And now, work is back. That's really okay, though. I enjoy going to work most of the time. (Strictly, this isn't true--I enjoy BEING at work, but the commuting to work, especially in Buffalo and Syracuse, is kind of a drag.) Here's how everything has been going for the first few weeks.
GPC-
My choir is eager to be back singing again after a long summer off. We hired a new organist who just moved back from NYC with his partner, who is a pro harp player. As is typical, I am missing too much time to take other gigs. Like tonight. Thanks to Pax, who is covering rehearsal for me.
LCS-
Lots of beginner lessons. I'm starting to get half-decent at coaxing sounds out of 4th grade flute and clarinet players. (Interestingly, none of my trombones are every shy about making a sound.) I had a new vocal music teacher in the room for three weeks, who then quit. The new new vocal music teacher starts next week. I am sad that it didn't work out for the first one, and only wonder a little bit if she might have stayed longer had I not been working through the Colin book of Contemporary Atonal Etudes for Trumpet
SSO-
Wizard of Oz, then Beethoven 5. It's been nice to see my carpool again, and to spend the afternoons of the double days stretched out in a sunny lawn next to Wegmans instead of cramped up inside while the snow comes down. The first week we bought a growler and worked through it all afternoon while we waited for the show. I thought that this year the first week of the season might not catch me quite so off guard since I was deliberately practicing loud long tones (why DID that vocal teacher at LCS quit?) and had a quasi-warm up week of BPO playing 4th on some Berlioz. then there was Beethoven 5. It was loud, but absolutely glorious.
RPO-
It's nice to have quite a bit of RPO lined up for the fall...what a nice short commute! In addition to a community concert I did a fanfare with some of the section guys at a school and a phils week next week.
HSM-
"Mr. Smith, I couldn't practice this week because I was really busy."
"Oh? How much tv did you watch this week?"
"Well, also I kind of forgot..."
H. College-
Interestingly, when the students are paying their own tuition (and are college students) they do a much better job of practicing. The commute is killer, but the job has been fun so far. J and I go down this Friday to play a trumpet ditty for the homecoming concert, and I sat in on their Wind Ensemble rehearsal last week. I forget how incredibly LOUD you end up playing in college band. Probably should work on more loud long tones soon. And maybe some shakes and trills on high notes, and some really percussive high register attacks. I wonder what the new vocal music teacher will be like...
BPO-
There were a few services of Berlioz early in the month, and I'm out for a double today playing a Bartok opera. Quote from the trumpet section: "Oh, yes, I was whistling that tune in the shower just this morning."
J-
J is watching three boys under the age of three today. I will get back at 9:30 or so tonight, and I suspect she will not be awake. Aside from the babysitting and church work, though, I think she's having a pretty nice Fall. James is much better behaved in a single-parent situation. When we're both around he's a little tyrant.
James-
James is...looking big. Looking downright, three years old, I'd say. He is routinely offered options by his parents, such as "Your choice is to eat three bites of squash, or to get down without dessert," or "Your choice is to stay up and pick up toys or to go to bed right now." Last night he told us "your choice are to make me a fruit smoothie or to set up the tent." I guess that cuts both ways. He's also started to imbue George with the faculty of speech and reason. He now holds lengthy furtive conversations with George and then emerges to inform us that "George wants to watch a George," or "George wants to watch his-self." When we tell James no, George (not James, mind you) keeps insisting that George really does want to watch a George. J has resorted to picking up George and telling him no in person.
GPC-
My choir is eager to be back singing again after a long summer off. We hired a new organist who just moved back from NYC with his partner, who is a pro harp player. As is typical, I am missing too much time to take other gigs. Like tonight. Thanks to Pax, who is covering rehearsal for me.
LCS-
Lots of beginner lessons. I'm starting to get half-decent at coaxing sounds out of 4th grade flute and clarinet players. (Interestingly, none of my trombones are every shy about making a sound.) I had a new vocal music teacher in the room for three weeks, who then quit. The new new vocal music teacher starts next week. I am sad that it didn't work out for the first one, and only wonder a little bit if she might have stayed longer had I not been working through the Colin book of Contemporary Atonal Etudes for Trumpet
SSO-
Wizard of Oz, then Beethoven 5. It's been nice to see my carpool again, and to spend the afternoons of the double days stretched out in a sunny lawn next to Wegmans instead of cramped up inside while the snow comes down. The first week we bought a growler and worked through it all afternoon while we waited for the show. I thought that this year the first week of the season might not catch me quite so off guard since I was deliberately practicing loud long tones (why DID that vocal teacher at LCS quit?) and had a quasi-warm up week of BPO playing 4th on some Berlioz. then there was Beethoven 5. It was loud, but absolutely glorious.
RPO-
It's nice to have quite a bit of RPO lined up for the fall...what a nice short commute! In addition to a community concert I did a fanfare with some of the section guys at a school and a phils week next week.
HSM-
"Mr. Smith, I couldn't practice this week because I was really busy."
"Oh? How much tv did you watch this week?"
"Well, also I kind of forgot..."
H. College-
Interestingly, when the students are paying their own tuition (and are college students) they do a much better job of practicing. The commute is killer, but the job has been fun so far. J and I go down this Friday to play a trumpet ditty for the homecoming concert, and I sat in on their Wind Ensemble rehearsal last week. I forget how incredibly LOUD you end up playing in college band. Probably should work on more loud long tones soon. And maybe some shakes and trills on high notes, and some really percussive high register attacks. I wonder what the new vocal music teacher will be like...
BPO-
There were a few services of Berlioz early in the month, and I'm out for a double today playing a Bartok opera. Quote from the trumpet section: "Oh, yes, I was whistling that tune in the shower just this morning."
J-
J is watching three boys under the age of three today. I will get back at 9:30 or so tonight, and I suspect she will not be awake. Aside from the babysitting and church work, though, I think she's having a pretty nice Fall. James is much better behaved in a single-parent situation. When we're both around he's a little tyrant.
James-
James is...looking big. Looking downright, three years old, I'd say. He is routinely offered options by his parents, such as "Your choice is to eat three bites of squash, or to get down without dessert," or "Your choice is to stay up and pick up toys or to go to bed right now." Last night he told us "your choice are to make me a fruit smoothie or to set up the tent." I guess that cuts both ways. He's also started to imbue George with the faculty of speech and reason. He now holds lengthy furtive conversations with George and then emerges to inform us that "George wants to watch a George," or "George wants to watch his-self." When we tell James no, George (not James, mind you) keeps insisting that George really does want to watch a George. J has resorted to picking up George and telling him no in person.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
If the Lesson Schedule Were Honest
This is my fourth year teaching all the instrumental lessons at a local Christian school. I know all the kids, so I have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen. Here's what a typical day looks like:
Monday
8:15 4-6 grade trumpet players blatting Let's Go Band, which was their favorite song last year. Three of the six didn't touch their instruments all summer and the valves no longer work. One of the boys ran to my room from the other side of the school and can't stop sweating
9:06 Elementary band. Percussionists, please be quiet. Time to learn some Christmas muPercussionists, quiet, please. Time to get started on Christmas music for the next.........I'm waiting....time to get started on Christmas music for the concert which is Percussionists, QUIET! We're doing three pieces for the Christmas concerts and WILL YOU DRUMMERS SHUT UP??
9:57 Elementary clarinets. I need a new reed. My clarinet isn't working. It still isn't working. Oh, the cleaning cloth is stuck. It still isn't working. A couple of these little pads fell out...is that a big deal?
10:45 Big kids band. Mr. Smith, none of us remember how to do sharps and flats.
12:06 Elementary bassoon. Mr. Smith, I don't remember how to put the instrument together anymore. So I take it you didn't practice over the summer? No, I couldn't remember how to put the instrument together.
12:58 Elementary percussion. 2 drummers show up and practice drum rolls as loud as they can. What are rudiments again? Oh, I remember that. Hey, what are those funny lines called again? Oh, that's right eighth rests. That's like, 4 counts, right? No Daniel, it's SIX.
1:45 Make-up. The other 3 drummer show up. They didn't want to skip gym.
Wednesday
8:15 HS trumpets. Listen to this high note I can play. No, wait a second, I just gotta warm up. No, wait a second, I did it a minute ago. Is that it?
9:06 HS trombones. My slide doesn't move anymore. Did you practice over the summer? No, I couldn't. Why not? I was busy. With what? I had to help around the house. Your Dad said you just played video games all summer. Yeah, I was pretty busy.
9:57 HS flutes. <no one shows up>
10:45 Jazz band. None of the saxophones can come to jazz band because they have to get their picture taken for NHS. They need to come anyway. They can have their pictures taken later. Okay, also, we also actually forgot our instruments. Ah. Use a school instrument.
12:06 HS saxophone. Mr. Smith, this school saxophone doesn't make any sound above a C. And also, I think that a mouse might have died in the case.
12:58 HS percussion. Hey Mr. Smith, are we gonna do some drumset in concert band this year? <banging drumsticks on the clavinova> Don't hit that with the drumsticks, that was expensive. I don't think so. We're doing all Bernstein. Can we do drumset anyway? <starts tapping on the school saxophone with the drumsticks> Never mind
1:45 Make-up. Mr. Smith, we're sorry we forgot our lesson. Should we come to the make-up? Sure, grab your flutes. Okay, but actually we forgot our instruments too. Have a nice weekend, girls.
Monday
8:15 4-6 grade trumpet players blatting Let's Go Band, which was their favorite song last year. Three of the six didn't touch their instruments all summer and the valves no longer work. One of the boys ran to my room from the other side of the school and can't stop sweating
9:06 Elementary band. Percussionists, please be quiet. Time to learn some Christmas muPercussionists, quiet, please. Time to get started on Christmas music for the next.........I'm waiting....time to get started on Christmas music for the concert which is Percussionists, QUIET! We're doing three pieces for the Christmas concerts and WILL YOU DRUMMERS SHUT UP??
9:57 Elementary clarinets. I need a new reed. My clarinet isn't working. It still isn't working. Oh, the cleaning cloth is stuck. It still isn't working. A couple of these little pads fell out...is that a big deal?
10:45 Big kids band. Mr. Smith, none of us remember how to do sharps and flats.
12:06 Elementary bassoon. Mr. Smith, I don't remember how to put the instrument together anymore. So I take it you didn't practice over the summer? No, I couldn't remember how to put the instrument together.
12:58 Elementary percussion. 2 drummers show up and practice drum rolls as loud as they can. What are rudiments again? Oh, I remember that. Hey, what are those funny lines called again? Oh, that's right eighth rests. That's like, 4 counts, right? No Daniel, it's SIX.
1:45 Make-up. The other 3 drummer show up. They didn't want to skip gym.
Wednesday
8:15 HS trumpets. Listen to this high note I can play. No, wait a second, I just gotta warm up. No, wait a second, I did it a minute ago. Is that it?
9:06 HS trombones. My slide doesn't move anymore. Did you practice over the summer? No, I couldn't. Why not? I was busy. With what? I had to help around the house. Your Dad said you just played video games all summer. Yeah, I was pretty busy.
9:57 HS flutes. <no one shows up>
10:45 Jazz band. None of the saxophones can come to jazz band because they have to get their picture taken for NHS. They need to come anyway. They can have their pictures taken later. Okay, also, we also actually forgot our instruments. Ah. Use a school instrument.
12:06 HS saxophone. Mr. Smith, this school saxophone doesn't make any sound above a C. And also, I think that a mouse might have died in the case.
12:58 HS percussion. Hey Mr. Smith, are we gonna do some drumset in concert band this year? <banging drumsticks on the clavinova> Don't hit that with the drumsticks, that was expensive. I don't think so. We're doing all Bernstein. Can we do drumset anyway? <starts tapping on the school saxophone with the drumsticks> Never mind
1:45 Make-up. Mr. Smith, we're sorry we forgot our lesson. Should we come to the make-up? Sure, grab your flutes. Okay, but actually we forgot our instruments too. Have a nice weekend, girls.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Questions I Was Asked Today
Q. How often do you practice with the orchestra?
A. It depends on what sort of concert we're rehearsing. For a big Philharmonics concert there are almost always 4 rehearsals. There are usually 2 rehearsals for a Pops concert, and most of the summer programs (or kids shows) are put together in just one rehearsal.
Q. Why are there holes in the valves of my trumpet?
A. Depressing a piston valve releases the flow of air into its corresponding slide, thereby lengthening the instrument and lowering it by a half-step (in the case of the second valve) a whole step (in the case of the first) or a minor third (in the case of the third valve) from the open partial that would otherwise be sounded.
Q. Did you know that I have a star on my shoe?
A. .....
Q. Have you ever seen the horn that's all curled up and they blow into it?
A. Do you mean the french horn?
Q. No, it's like in movies.
A. Maybe a shofar?
Q. Yeah, that's what it's called! But isn't it like a french horn?
A. Yes, they're shaped similarly.
Q. I think the french horn sounds kind of funny. It sounds melby.
A. That's actually a pretty good word for it.
Q. What's the shofar made from?
A. From a ram's horn originally.
Q. Really?! That's so gross.
A. Well, I think they clean it first.
Q. Isn't one kind made from a seashell or something?
A. Yes, you can make some trumpet sounds by blowing in a conch shell.
Q. Where do they come from?
A. I don't know. From the beach, I guess.
Q. So what was I supposed to practice this week?
A. The songs that I circled.
Q. Oh, okay. Here's one.
A. I see. Did you practice this one?
Q. Yes. I was supposed to practice this one.
A. The date on this assignment is 03/19/97.
Q. Oh. That's okay, I didn't practice that one anyway.
A. I was just about your age in 1997.
Q. Wow, you're old.
A. Thanks.
Q. How old is your son now?
A. He's 18 months old now.
Q. Oh. I don't get how baby's ages work. I thought he was two.
A. No, not until November.
Q. Okay. So wait, when will he turn one?
A. He's already one. He turned one at twelve months.
Q. That's confusing.
A. Hm.
Q. Is he still conducting?
A. Yup.
(shows video)
Another productive trumpet lesson...
A. It depends on what sort of concert we're rehearsing. For a big Philharmonics concert there are almost always 4 rehearsals. There are usually 2 rehearsals for a Pops concert, and most of the summer programs (or kids shows) are put together in just one rehearsal.
Q. Why are there holes in the valves of my trumpet?
A. Depressing a piston valve releases the flow of air into its corresponding slide, thereby lengthening the instrument and lowering it by a half-step (in the case of the second valve) a whole step (in the case of the first) or a minor third (in the case of the third valve) from the open partial that would otherwise be sounded.
Q. Did you know that I have a star on my shoe?
A. .....
Q. Have you ever seen the horn that's all curled up and they blow into it?
A. Do you mean the french horn?
Q. No, it's like in movies.
A. Maybe a shofar?
Q. Yeah, that's what it's called! But isn't it like a french horn?
A. Yes, they're shaped similarly.
Q. I think the french horn sounds kind of funny. It sounds melby.
A. That's actually a pretty good word for it.
Q. What's the shofar made from?
A. From a ram's horn originally.
Q. Really?! That's so gross.
A. Well, I think they clean it first.
Q. Isn't one kind made from a seashell or something?
A. Yes, you can make some trumpet sounds by blowing in a conch shell.
Q. Where do they come from?
A. I don't know. From the beach, I guess.
Q. So what was I supposed to practice this week?
A. The songs that I circled.
Q. Oh, okay. Here's one.
A. I see. Did you practice this one?
Q. Yes. I was supposed to practice this one.
A. The date on this assignment is 03/19/97.
Q. Oh. That's okay, I didn't practice that one anyway.
A. I was just about your age in 1997.
Q. Wow, you're old.
A. Thanks.
Q. How old is your son now?
A. He's 18 months old now.
Q. Oh. I don't get how baby's ages work. I thought he was two.
A. No, not until November.
Q. Okay. So wait, when will he turn one?
A. He's already one. He turned one at twelve months.
Q. That's confusing.
A. Hm.
Q. Is he still conducting?
A. Yup.
(shows video)
Another productive trumpet lesson...
Monday, January 9, 2012
On Remembering Names
I have trouble with names. You might think it funny, but it’s a serious relational problem that affects how I get along with many friends and co-workers, including the one lady with the grayish hair (is the Marianne? Or Jean?) and the one with glasses downstairs (maybe that’s Marianne!). Well, you get the picture.
I’m not in the habit of blaming my parents for my problems—whatever is wrong with me, I'm sure it's my fault—but this is a problem I might have inherited from my father. With five boys in eight years there was bound to be some confusion, but he was (and is) wildly inaccurate when calling his sons by name. A longtime running joke has been that he ought to owe each offended party $5 per occurrence, but of course he’d never really agree to that. It would be far too expensive. In the past two years he’s even started to confuse his one easy name (his only daughter Martha) with his first grandchild. In his defense, I’ve slipped into calling Hayden “Martha” several times myself. Dad’s defense? We should simplify, and all wear name-tags. Working now at LCS, two Hochstein campuses, GPC, RPO, and BPO, I’m starting to see how this might be a good idea.
I started to get a sense of my troubles when I worked at NDHS, fresh out of graduate school. For the first week of school, I didn’t know anyone’s name except the principal, who hired me. I soon learned my immediate neighbors, the choral teacher and phys ed teachers…but the rest of the school was unknown to me. I picked up from the student jabber that so-and-so must be the Spanish teacher, and so-and-so was math. I recognized, just by leaving and entering the building, most of the faces of my fellow faculty, but still couldn’t pair the names with the faces particularly well. “Oh well,” I said to myself “You’re still new and with time you’ll figure out who’s who.” I trusted in my well-practiced tradition of talking in a friendly and familiar manner without ever actually using a person’s name. I was very subtle, as you’ll see from these actual examples of my friendly greetings:
“Well, hello! And how are you?”
“Good morning to you *indistinct monosyllable*, how are you today?”
“I’m well…sir, how are you?”
Eventually it was Christmas break, and I was no longer able to use my backup line, which was “You’ll have to forgive me because I’m new and I’m afraid that in the course of learning everyone’s names yours seems to have slipped away.” I was no longer new. Everyone knew who I was, and I still knew only
1) The chorus teacher 2) The phys ed teacher 3) The principal and 4) The vice principal, except when actually speaking in person with the vice principal, at which point I couldn’t for the life of me recall his name.
“It’s alright” I reassured myself “You’ll eventually learn all of these names by osmosis. Just keep on listening into conversation…maybe check a yearbook out of the library, and you’ll figure out who everyone is.”
In June I gave notice that I wouldn’t be returning to my position, because my wife and I were moving to North Carolina. Then it struck me: I had worked at NDHS for a whole academic year and made no progress in learning the names of the others. The best I could do was still the choral teacher, the gym teacher, the principal, and (sometimes) the vice principal.
I didn’t fare much better in North Carolina. We attempted to get to know our neighbors, but many of them had foreign star-system names like Shafawnda and Tatooine. I found work at a local contractor, and steadily worked my way up the ranks for two years. By the time I left I knew about six or seven names, but this wasn’t terribly important since everyone there, being of the burly construction variety, called each other “man” or dude.” Knowing one another's names wasn’t nearly as important as knowing the football rooting interests, which, of course, I still remember quite clearly.
When we moved back to New York, I was a substitute teacher and knew no one’s names. This might have been my undoing. My already feeble onomatic-memory-function was exhausted beyond repair, and quietly went off to die somewhere in a dark corner of my brain. Every day I met a new classroom of students and a new wing of teachers. (Free Advice: A talent for remembering names is very handy as a substitute teacher. If you can quickly learn and use your students names, they will develop an uneasy sense that they are responsible for what they do around you. If your onomatic-memory-function is dead, they will deliberately try to hit you in the face with kickballs) You’d think I should be excused from remembering these names, but here’s the sad truth: I was subbing in my hometown district, where I went to school for 10 years! I’d had many of these nameless teachers, and sat in their classes for (especially the gym teachers) 30 or 40 years.
Around this time I also took up the post of music director of the CPC choir. At the beginning, it was fine for me to ask “and sorry, what’s your name again?” After all, I had 25 chorister’s names to learn! But what about now, when I’ve been doing the job for over two years and still can only name one alto with any confidence?
It’s the same thing at LCS. I know 1) the choral teacher 2) the gym teacher 3) my principal 4) the vice-principal 5) my co-homeroom teacher. (As you see, I made some improvement over NDHS) One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to find some way to learn the names of the other staff. Here’s the problem: the old yearbooks are in the library, but I’ve forgotten the librarian’s name! (And she, of course, cordially greets me by name every time I see her.)
This problem has even interfered with our Christian duties of hospitality and neighbor-love. I’ve always thought the world of our next-door neighbors (we share a duplex) but for a long time I haven’t had the faintest idea who they are. They introduced themselves when they moved in, and I asked for their names again at least once or twice afterward. Time went by, and the “window-of-not-being-able-to-ask-again-without-it-being-really-awkward” passed. I considered sneaking through their mail. I was fairly certain that the son was Bailey (or was that the dog?) the mother was Lori, and the father was either “Bob” or “Dave.” I attempted to blend the two together whenever we saw them. I would say, “Hello, how are you –bdaaobve-?” with my voice trailing off into nothing as I pronounced the last bit. Well, the other day, I invited him in a confident manner, “Come on in Dave.” Turns out his name is Bob.
I’ve fortunately avoided the very real danger of forgetting my wife’s name. (Note to self: Her name is Julie) I was especially frightened, at the beginning of our dating days, that I might unthinkingly call her by my ex-girlfriend’s name. (Emily) This would have been very bad. I know this because I once unthinkingly called Emily “Julie.” Emily was not particularly pleased about this. This now, however, is getting more complicated, since I have to remember my son’s name as well. (Note to self: His name is James) Perhaps my father and I could use the name tag system for just a bit?
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Ubby-Dubby
I owe the teachers of the Elba Central School District an apology. I taught 2nd grade there a few weeks ago, and, having run out of my other regular tricks for sustaining their attention and good behavior (spelling their names in Greek, shouting loudly, playing the trumpet loudly, then shouting loudly again), I resorted to teaching them ubby-dubby. Ubby-dubby (or turkey-talk) is a made up language that my in-laws (kindly) used to use to talk amongst themselves in my presence until I figured it out. Basically it works like this:
The World is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
Becomes
Thoba Woborld obis toboo mobuch wobith obus; lobate oband soboon,
Gobettobing oband spobendobing, wobe lobay wobaste obour pobowrs;
Lobittoble wobee sobee obin Nobatobure thobat obis obours;
Wobee hobave gobivoben obour hobearts obawobay, oba sobordobid boboon!
You add the sound ob sound in every syllable, and it makes people’s names and classroom instructions sound really funny, especially if you are a 2nd grader. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then they kept asking for it (and attempting poor imitations of it) all afternoon. When I let them out for the afternoon they all wished me, “bobye, Mobistober Smobith!” and I said “bobye, oburchobins!” When I returned to teach another class later that week I was hailed in the hallway (in bad ubby-dubby) by the class in passing. I noticed that their regular teacher’s glance wasn’t particularly friendly. Today I returned to teach music, and a completely different 1st grade class met me with excited faces at the door as “the teacher that taught Ms. F—‘s class hobby-wobby!” The language has apparently spread throughout the classes of the school, and the staff are combating it at every turn!
Oboops.
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