Blue Notes

Yesterday was the last marching band competition of the year, and my last as Assistant Band Director.  Four years ago I told the school district that I would do this for four years, and a quick check of the math shows this weekend to be my last one as an official member of the field marching band staff.  To be honest, I cannot think of a better ending to this wild ride.

The students may tell you that they were disappointed with a fourth-place finish out of a field of eleven that were scheduled in our division.  They may express frustration that the third-place band was only SIX ONE-HUNDREDTHS of a point ahead of us.  They may wish that it had rained, which has always been a good omen for us, instead of being clear and mild for the first time in recent memory.  What they did not experience, however, was the feeling of how amazing their final show of the season was to the audience.

Throughout this past season I have watched a rag-tag group of students running the gamut from alarmingly hyperactive to borderline catatonic come together as a unit and really execute on basics: dynamics, articulation, and (for the most part) marching in step.  Their musicianship and showmanship came through in the end.  They took music from West Side Story and brought out the feeling and passion impossible to convey merely through written notes on a page.  When they stepped off the field afterwards, our percussion coach and I were both teared up with pride.  We shared the conviction that, no matter what the final scores turned out to be, they knocked it out of the park.

They connected to the audience.  And that is what music performance is all about.

I will definitely miss the hard work and great times found during marching season.  I hope to continue to be a supporting member of the community as a session player, webmaster for the parent group, and perhaps other odd opportunities to help out that come along.  In the meantime, there is Show Choir, Jazz Band, the musical, and a zillion other things between now and the end of the year.  After June 2009, I know that these students will continue to grow as leaders and musicians and continue to make their community proud.

It’s about that time again. Marching band season is almost over and amidst all the angst and drama that comes with the unique mix of ages and maturity levels in high school there’s a palpable feeling of camaraderie, very much like close friendship yet something different. Former New York Times war correspondent Chris Hedges describes it like this:

“We feel in wartime comradeship. We confuse this with friendship, with love. There are those, who will insist that the comradeship of war is love – the exotic glow that makes us in war feel as one people, one entity, is real, but this is part of war’s intoxication. […] Friends are predetermined; friendship takes place between men and women who possess an intellectual and emotional affinity for each other. But comradeship – that ecstatic bliss that comes with belonging to the crowd in wartime – is within our reach. We can all have comrades.”

While artistic competitions, with very few exceptions, cannot be called “war” in the literal sense, there is something about reaching deep within ourselves for the good of the larger team that evokes a sense that we are part of something greater than ourselves, and that our individual contributions are important, indeed critical, to our collective success. Having a common desire to reach a goal requires trust and respect from everyone, for everyone, and seeing students develop these traits in front of my eyes is always a poignant, humbling experience.

One sees and hears stories about the youth of today and how everything is going down the tubes. Clearly the people who propagate these stories have never experienced (or at least never fully appreciated) the spectacle of a marching band competition. It is impossible not to be moved by literally thousands of young musicians and performers who have put in countless hours working to be their best, travelling insane numbers of miles and hours, all for just ten minutes of opportunity to impress a handful of judges. Just as in sports there are rivalries between schools, but none so bitter that there is no cheering for one another. When the days get long our band sometimes blows off steam by joining hands and weaving snake-like through the competition facility grounds. Earlier this year one of our biggest rivals joined in, interspersed with us and having a great time. Seeing things like this restores one’s faith in humanity and the future.

In my youth I often stated that I never wanted children. Somehow I wound up with not only two incredible lads, but hundreds of amazing student artists and musicians whom I respect and admire for their tenacity, optimism and talent. I am proud and grateful to be able to work with them, share in their challenges and triumphs, and to be reminded first hand what camaraderie – and friendship – is all about.