The events of that first rehearsal were so mentally taxing that I slept like a rock, waking up in the same exact spot I laid down in. That morning, I vowed to start a new habit of actually taking a lunch break each day and using it to study my music. As I started the daunting task of deciphering the “foreign language” of the sheet music received the night before, I became increasingly sure that I needed percussion lessons. I’m normally all about watching YouTube to figure stuff out, but this task was a little more complex than learning how to change toner in a copier (or other random tasks). I’m sure I could learn lots on the percussion video route, but it was going to take a human to teach me proper techniques and give me feedback along the way to make sure I didn’t develop bad habits. I also knew going with whoever happened to be at the local music store was not going to be my best choice. What I really needed was an extremely talented person to help me through the challenging spot I found myself in–a percussion beginner with advanced-level music to play. Even with an amazing teacher, I still wasn’t sure I would be able to pull this off.
Thankfully, I got a “yes” from just the right person. Mr. D had been a shot-in-the-dark when I reached out to various folks. He taught all my kids in jazz band and my boys in concert band at the middle school level. I knew he was still in middle school, in addition to assisting at a local high school, teaching lots of lessons, and having a busy family life. I didn’t expect him to have room for me. However, he knew me and liked what I was attempting to do. While it’s a bit odd to be a student of your kids’ prior teacher, there was some comfort in already knowing him. Plus, anyone who can put up with middle schoolers and actually teach them something would surely have the patience and stamina to deal with the challenge I was bringing to the table. So just a few days after my first rehearsal, the real work began.
Mr. D crammed an incredible amount into that first lesson. We went from how to properly hold drumsticks all the way to playing a roll on a cymbal. He gave me strategies on reading the music and a workbook to help learn mallets. It was mentally overwhelming, physically challenging, and also incredibly rewarding. But the most important thing he taught me that day was that I could do this. For a moment at least, this girl was on fire. I was so excited that I went and bought my first mallets (to use with Brandon’s ancient middle school bell set).
Fast forward a few days (with lots of book work at lunch and practice at night), and it was time for another rehearsal. I was still nervous, although not quite at the level of that first rehearsal. My heart was still pounding in my throat, but I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up at any moment–yay, progress! I didn’t feel nearly prepared enough for the actual music and certainly didn’t expect anyone else to be impressed that I could at least hold sticks properly. I swallowed my pride and asked another percussionist to confirm note placement on the chimes. I furiously practiced the chimes part I had (since I couldn’t fully practice that at home). I was starting to feel like I could pull off at least a few sections of each of my pieces. Then, the conductor walked in and wrote the evening’s pieces on the whiteboard…and my heart sank. Four of the five pieces listed were songs I didn’t have yet.
Flooded with anxiety once again, I collected the new sheet music and found out which parts I would be doing. I fumbled my way through a bass drum part and didn’t do much on the next two, as I wasn’t in a place where I could sight read and play mallet pieces. The fourth song was one I had already been practicing the bell part on at home and had (thankfully) practiced the chimes part at the beginning of the evening. If you didn’t know my ability level, you would’ve rightfully called my attempt a hot mess. But, I came in at the right place (or at least close to it) throughout the piece despite playing parts on two different instruments, and I mostly played the right notes. So, to me, it was a huge accomplishment. We got to the last piece and I knew I was doomed. It was long and complex, over several mallet instruments, and even featured multiple sections of four mallet 16th notes. (I was still learning where to ding out one note at a time…struggling to read the note, find the note, and play the right rhythm, so this was beyond hope.) Then there was a change from treble clef to bass clef…I didn’t have a clue what to do with that. I tried to just visually follow along the music and tap rhythms on my legs. But mostly I just stood there stunned. It must have shown on my face because at the end of the rehearsal, one of the percussionists took that music out of my hand and replaced it with the percussion 2 piece (telling me to practice just the suspended cymbal part).
Here I was again, in a kind of shock over being thrown into new, overwhelming music. I hadn’t even suspected there would be more music. At Fellini’s after rehearsal, I asked the question I didn’t really want the answer to–how many pieces are we working on right now?? The response was “15 or so for the spring, oh and there’s a handful of pieces on the regular/permanent band repertoire.” I had climbed a little bit of the mountain only to discover that it was even higher than I thought.
Rolling into winter break week, I had another lesson and learned everything from basic drum rudiments to the oddities of notes (like C flat, which I truly thought was a typo). I learned some concepts behind the structure of keyboards as well as the basics of major scales. We reviewed my new music and talked about strategies to learn the music (such as listening to other recordings and listening for key moments). I learned (or tried to learn) about all the different kinds of mallets, and Mr. D was kind enough to loan me a few mallets since I apparently needed more than just the bell mallets I bought. I lost a little traction while heading out of town twice during winter break, but I practiced where and how I could (even choosing the keys video games, lol). Break happened to be while the band was in transition changing locations. So, they only played two pieces while I was gone and “only” one piece was new-to-me. They canceled the next practice (due to the move), so I got a little extra time to practice at home before the next rehearsal.
My third lesson was just as stellar and overwhelming as the first two. We put all the basics together and found where my weaknesses were. There are so many things to be mindful of–all at once! I learned more rudiments, more scales, and more mallet techniques. I even learned some “Mr. D Yoga”. Every lesson feels like my brain is overly full and my muscles are overly tight (and apparently part of that is because I tend to tense up and hold my breath in the process of concentrating). Mr. D seemed to think I was doing well, so I just tried to lean into that and trust the expert. 🙂
As the wheel kept on turning, it was time for my third rehearsal. I knew I was still woefully underprepared for the music, but I was at least more prepared for the unexpected this time. We were in a new space and had to move all the equipment in and out together. While this was physically tiring, it made me feel more like part of the team and on even footing in some strange way. The music wasn’t written on a board this time, so after each song I held my breath wondering if the next piece was new to me or not. The first piece was new, but I was determined. I glanced to see that my part bounced between xylophone, bells, chimes, and vibraphone. I quickly decided to play the vibraphone part on xylophone to keep focused on the three instruments within reach of one another. I had four measures of rest before I had to play, so I scanned ahead while trying to count my rests. I managed to come in at the right place and mostly played the right notes for a section. Each time the conductor stopped us, I listened but looked ahead trying to decipher my parts. By the end of the piece, I felt like I played decently well given my beginner abilities and the need to sight read on the spot. Once again, I suspect anyone around me would’ve rated my performance as poor, but they didn’t know where I came from.
The next piece up wasn’t exactly new, but it was the piece swapped out to me in the prior rehearsal. I’d heard the band play through this piece, but I hadn’t read or played this part. I was on suspended cymbal and did a passable job. The conductor mentioned the crescendo was good, so I was super excited that I remembered what Mr. D had taught me about dynamics. One of the other percussionists suggested that next time I play the other percussion 2 parts (crash cymbal and triangle) where it didn’t overlap with my suspended cymbal part. While it was a little stressful to have more parts heaped on, I also celebrated the fact that I had done decently enough that I was being given more. I quickly texted Mr. D that I’d need to learn triangle at my next lesson. The final three pieces were known to me, and I managed through them decently enough. I had one embarrassing moment where I needed to share music with the snare drummer (I was on bass drum) and there was no hiding the chaos I was living in. I popped my music up on the stand filled with highlighter on the bass line, and lots of circles, underlines, and notes around every time signature change, dynamics, and unusual note patterns. I held my breath waiting for his frustration in trying to read along on my music, but he just said, “I see…well, you’re really working on this.” I’m taking that as a win.
So here we are, one month in. I went from never playing a percussion instrument to playing bells, bass drum, xylophone, suspended cymbal, and chimes. I went from reading flute music in high school 30+ years ago to the complex world of reading percussion music. I had three rehearsals, three lessons, and over 30 hours of practice at home (plus lots of book work, music transposing, etc.). It’s still a mere drop in the bucket of experience compared to the musicians around me, but I’m so proud of how far I’ve come in this short amount of time. I wouldn’t have gone out on this limb without the encouragement and support of my family. I wouldn’t be in this spot without the chance provided by the band; I don’t understand why they brought me in, but I’m so glad they did. I definitely wouldn’t be where I am without Mr. D. He has pushed me, encouraged me, and given me so many tools already. So here I go, into another month and working towards my first concert.
Standing Strength 