Thursday, April 22, 2010

Spring has Sprung

I remember the day that I decided I wanted to be a musician--
My parents are very interested in music and have a strong appreciation for it.  They attend the symphony regularly and my father sings with the Mendelssohn Choir of Pittsburgh.  I grew up listening to music of all types, my least favorite being classical.  I was about six when I attended my first Pittsburgh Symphony concert.  If memory serves, AndrĂ© Previn conducted something, then Itzhak Perlman played the Four Seasons.    I did NOT want to go.  The concert was the same night as my church's Hearts for Jesus Dance, and doing the Electric Slide with a bunch of Lutherans seemed ten million times more fun and interesting than listening to world-class musicians play amazing music.  Go figure.  

When I was about twelve, I gained a whole new appreciation for music.  I was home sick and my mom was performing her spring ritual--making potato-leek soup and listening to the Rite of Spring.  I so vividly remember laying on the couch, listening to this music and thinking, "What the hell is this??"  I didn't have any idea that music could be like that or could illicit such a strong emotional response.  I decided right then and there that I wanted to be a part of it.  I started playing clarinet, but switched to bassoon because it was so much larger--my mom says I have a Napoleonic complex.  Here I sit, twelve years later, listening to the Rite of Spring and feeling the same way I did when I first heard it.  What a hoot.

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