Today’s post has nothing to do with WoW. There are no raid pointers, strategy, drama, or healing optimization. I wanted to sit down and put some thoughts on paper, and there’s no better place than the void to do so.
If you’ve been reading my blog for a while (what’re you doing here anyway?), you’ll know that I’ve been playing in a community orchestra for the better part of eight years. I show up to weekly rehearsals and perform once every four months in a large auditorium to perform pops stuff (movie music, Disney, Broadway, etc). I’m not a first violin player. Those are the ones that play the more interesting melodies. I’ve always felt more at home in the second violin section, which largely adds the harmony or other elements. The job there is to support and be reliable. Not a lot of glory, but that’s all I’ve wanted.
The orchestra leadership has recently decided to restructure. The group’s been split into different ensembles based on skill levels, and I’m in the lower level (or junior) group. I get it. It makes sense. I never had that training when I was younger. I started from scratch in my late 20s, and pairing with kids now who are a third my age who may as well be prodigies or something. I still have a lot of technical growing to do. During concerts, I would play 2 or 3 pieces out of a repertoire list of maybe 7. I’d be playing from the rear in the 6th row behind the more advanced players. It would be a safe and sheltered environment.
With this split, I’m much more exposed.
The group of players I used to rehearse with, which included violinists, violists, and cellists, would share growing pains together as we laughed and shared frustrations about what we were struggling with from our concert repertoire. Sometimes we’d hang out with each other outside of rehearsal, just trying to drill specific measures or work on listening and cuing based on our parts. That’s gone now. They’ve either advanced upwards or departed entirely. The ones that stayed get to work on cool movie, anime, and game scores. I’ve been left behind with a few other musicians I barely know, spread out across generational gaps that I struggle to bridge.
I’m still showing up, and I haven’t missed a rehearsal so far. Yes, my motivation is completely shot. Discipline is the primary reason that I’ve stuck to this schedule. That’s a little scary, right?
I don’t know what I’m working towards anymore. That goal has evaporated.
When that support structure is gone, and those friendly, familiar faces aren’t there to share the grind with you, those hard questions and realizations start to surface. I’ve been left behind and abandoned. Is my progression just not fast enough? Is the effort not there? Even though I have a teacher from whom I’m taking weekly lessons, maybe it’s not enough. I’m more surprised that I didn’t even get so much as a shoulder tap.
Rationally, I’m sure people are busy. I’m sure there was no intent to exclude or abandon. I miss my friends more than anything.
This new structured setup has put me in an unfamiliar setting. For once, I’m not buried in the back anymore. I don’t have a wall of stronger players to shield me. I have to sit in that front row under that spotlight, sweating like crazy. That level of visibility is absolutely terrifying, even though it’s challenging me to figure out what I really want out of this hobby.
I know I don’t want to be a soloist. I know I don’t want to be a first chair or a section leader. All I really want to be is a decent, competent second violinist. That’s it.
Outside of orchestra rep, I just want to be able to play Bach’s Double. I don’t really need it in me to play for anyone. I just want to be the type of musician who can play it with certainty and confidence without any technical errors. Style and musicality errors can always be fixed later.
This realization does reframe a few things. I don’t need to measure my musical value by who my stand partner is or the number of pieces I can perform. Even though I can audition for music I’m not enthusiastic about, I don’t need to chase it. I can still practice for my own sake without the pressure of the orchestra’s skill rubric.
No one told me this, but staying pat can be harder than moving up (just like in Blackjack). Being out front under the glare of lights can be way scarier than hiding.
The road my friends and I shared to get here was fun and memorable, but this is where our roads diverge. Maybe I’m exactly where I need to be for now.