Living Unapologetically

I'm not the first expatriate, immigrant, or tourist to find myself treading carefully in a new culture. The last thing I want to do is offend the people that are my neighbors, no matter how long I intend to stay in a certain place. Whether a week in India, a year in Busan, or a lifetime in the states, I have always tried to live my life in a way that is harmonious to the lives of others around me. Courtesy. Empathy. Compassion. I don't want to make someone feel uncomfortable because of something I have said or done.

This mindset has never before bubbled so close to the surface with such consistency as it has the last six months here in Korea. I've been careful about how I eat, what I eat, what I wear, where I put my chopsticks after my meal, how I greet people. Almost every element of daily life that I take for granted when home I have been hypersensitive to as I find myself in such a drastically different place.

I'm not saying that is not a bad thing. That is how I have learned to live in the Korean way (or as close to it as a non-Korean speaking foreigner can).

However, at some point I have let this sensitivity to these cultural differences stop me from living my life. I have let my new city stop me from doing the things I want to do to live forward and work ahead in my career.

As this page is titled, I am a wandering musician. I play the flute. I am a classically trained orchestral musician. With this title comes a huge responsibility: practicing. Practicing daily. Practicing when you don't want to. Practicing the things that sound terrible. Running drills, scales, arpeggios. Technical work that I love. Long tones that are low. Long tones that are high. Long tones that seem like they will never end. Breathing exercises. Yoga. Meditation.

The first six months in Korea I barely touched my flute. I felt a bit lost. I was caught up trying to figure out my future career because I was ignoring the one that I truly loved. I was trying to change who I am into something I'm not.

This is not Koreas fault. I am not blaming my location.

Instead it was a complex culmination of countless different factors that have been building since before I finished my Masters degree. But therein lies a different blogpost.

Right now I'm looking forward. I've stopped being afraid of offending my neighbors and have picked up my instrument again. I'm applying for festivals, masterclasses, and orchestral auditions. I'm practicing (within decent hours), I'm exercising (outside of those decent hours), and I'm living my life in the truest form that I can.

You see I'm still being sensitive to my neighbors. I don't play my flute before 8 am or after 9 pm. I refrain from high piccolo work in my apartment (because really, nobody deserves that torture). I'm still conscious of cultural difference and carry myself in a way that resonates with these new cultural norms. But I am no longer changing all of who I am to make sure that others are happy. This was never my intention, but it was essentially what was happening.

It's time for me to do me. It's time for me to live shamelessly because that is who I am.

It's time to live unapologetically.

Looking ahead

Everybody that I have told about my upcoming trip to Rome has asked me if I’m nervous, excited, or worried about travelling alone. They are all excited for me; they have all said that they will be thinking about me and that I should be careful while I’m gone. And all I’ve been able to say is that I’m super excited about it, that it’s going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and that of course I will be careful. I’ve got a good head on my shoulders, I’ll be fine meeting new people, and everything else that I can think to say to make them feel better. All the while I’m standing there thinking about how I should feel more excited, or how my nerves should be eating at me. Maybe I should be more stressed out, or maybe I should be more worried about travelling alone. But honestly it still doesn’t feel real. This trip of mine. I’ve known about it since October and it’s always been one of those trips in the future, at the back of my mind, sort of things that always has a surreal quality. But now it’s becoming reality, I really am hopping on a plane on Friday and flying across the world. And it’s starting to sink in. And damn am I getting excited!

I’ve been assigned to play the second flute part for Haydn’s London Trio for two flutes and bassoon, a piece that will be played five or six times while I’m there. The repertoire that the symphony will be playing includes Mendelssohn’s Fourth Symphony, Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun, two different Beethoven symphonies, and a handful of other pieces. There are dozens of different opera scenes and arias that we will be playing, including portions of La Traviata, Bizet’s Carmen, and Mozart’s Magic Flute. Although I won’t be playing for all of these performances, I was signed on as a section flute—which essentially means that I will be rotated in to different parts throughout the festival—I will be there for all of the performances. I’m excited about all the cultural expeditions that will be happening, and damn straight I’m going to go to all of them. Regardless of how late I was out the night before I will be up at 7 to go check out all that Rome has to offer. Even if it’s not considered the “cool” thing to do, many of my colleagues will be from Italy why would they want to bother going on these trips if that’s where they are from? Well I’m American, from a small town in Minnesota, and I will be immersing myself in every element of Roman culture that I possibly can while I’m gone.

I keep joking about how maybe I’ll find a job and stay out there. Maybe I’ll find a professional opportunity, a paid gig, that I can’t turn down and I’ll become an expatriate. I’ve been considering applying for a Fulbright to study abroad in England after I finish my masters here in America to get a performers certificate from a European school. Although I feel burnt out now, tired of school, looking for a change, something new and exciting to do beyond music. I have a feeling that if I were to go abroad for my next level of schooling that cultural change alone my reignite my passion for music. But that seems like a big gamble. This is where the Rome Festival comes in, if I fall in love with the attitude abroad, with the musicians and maestro(a)’s, and the culture maybe I will stick it out there for a few more years to see where life takes me.

Who knows, that seems to be the theme of this blog (and my life) lately. I’m starting my 23^rd year of life with my biggest adventure yet, who knows what will happen in the next few years? And who wants to. Really. I’m just going to keep living my life and seeing where it takes me. It’s been working out pretty well so far.  

Performance

Over this last weekend I had an audition with the Fort Collins Symphony for their newly open principal flute position. I was looking forward to the opportunity to practice the audition process for orchestral gigs, because despite wanting and trying my best to win the audition I knew that I was guaranteed an enlightening experience, even if I didn’t win the job.

Performance for me has been a strange journey these last few years. When I was younger I was excited and willing to play for everyone, a precocious child with no uncertainty or shame, and with a passion for simply playing. I would play my flute for everyone, whether they wanted to hear it or not. But around high school and into my college years that gradually began to change. I still loved to play but something in my mind shifted from a concept of playing to one of practicing—rather then the freedom of play, I was confined to the strict standards of practice/homework. Although I understood that one needs to focus on the negative aspects of ones playing in order to progress, I missed the joy of simply playing my flute and learning new pieces. Something snapped within me in my sophomore year of college in a small performance for the woodwind studio—nerves I hadn’t felt before the performance sprung up in the midst of it and I lost control. My flute started shaking, my lips were quivering, and my breath control was nonexistent. This was the worst experience one can imagine, for not only did I sound bad and embarrass myself in front of my colleagues, but I completely lost all control over my body. That was the bad part. When you’re young you don’t think about being old, I never think about the possible day when I tell my body to do something and it can’t or won’t. But at that moment I was telling my body to stop shaking, to calm down, to keep going, and it refused. This was the moment of truth, and I have been shaking myself of its aftereffects since.

But on Saturday I made the trek to Fort Collins with a few friends of mine for an orchestral audition. My first “big-kid” audition, and I was surprisingly at ease. In the last six months my life has been going through a wide variety of changes: physically, mentally, emotionally, as well as interpersonally. All of these changes became very clear to me as I woke up Saturday morning and went through my morning stretching routine. I was cool, calm, and collected as I showered, dressed, ate, and hopped in the car. The weather was a definite help as well, the first beautiful sunny day in a long time enabled me to wear my skirt and top without a jacket. I realized that the baggage I had been carrying for the last few years may just be gone. However, I had been optimistic before and didn’t want to have these hopes dashed against a wall when I reached the audition, so I (un)wisely ignored these feelings and took off down the road.

Here’s an interesting revelation about myself: I get edgy, unhappy, and stressed out when I’m in one place for too long. Why is this factoid relevant? Well this trip was the first time since December that I left Laramie. It was the first time I got into my car and drove down the road for location X, and it felt good. Damn good. Perhaps this is why I put 80,000 miles on my car in three years—driving just feels right sometimes.

The most beautiful part of my Saturday was the audition itself. Despite the fact that the warm-up rooms were hot and so live that a note resonated in the air for five minutes after being played (note the hyperbole) whereas the audition room itself was completely dead (even the ceiling had carpet!), and despite the omnipresence of earlier winners from earlier rounds, obnoxious practicers, and blatant show-offs trying to get in your head, I played well in my audition. Not well enough to land the gig, but I’m not quite at the place just yet. However, I played in that audition just as well as I ever have in a practice room. Sure a few notes cracked from dry lips and the keys on my flute clicked and clacked like it was possessed, but my musicality, my tone, and my technique were my own. I was not overwhelmed by anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. I nailed it. This might not make sense to those of you who think that winning the job would have been “nailing” it, but sometimes it’s the experience that matters, not the performance. 

Success

 I have been invited to the Rome Festival this summer as a section flute! Despite the fact that this means I will not be getting any solos and that I will be rotated on parts (a.k.a. I will not be playing on every piece) I could not be happier. This means that I will have more spare time to travel, work with chamber ensembles, hang out with fellow musicians/dancers/designers and just enjoy life! Now all there is to do is learn some Italian and keep on practicing!

I will get to combine my passion for music, history, and architecture with my very poorly developed passion for travel. I have wanted to go abroad for years now, and I'm glad I finally realized that I might have to combine my career with my vacations because here I am planning a trip to Italy in June. The chance to meet so many new people, to finally begin a real career in orchestral music while also working on expanding my skills into different musical fields, and just thoroughly enjoy myself (being selfish enough to only think about myself for a month or two) are just driving me crazy right now. 

Rome!!

Now is the time for me to focus on the mundane, but extremely important, elements of finances. Contributions to me for this festival are tax deductible and I can use all the help I can get, if anyone is interested leave me a note in the comments and I will get you more information. Perhaps I will set up a benefit concert, pick up a few more jobs, or just try to eat as little as possible for the next year in preparation for the costs of the trip. Regardless of how, I will be going to Italy this summer.

It still feels surreal. Excitement. 

All That Jazz

So with the gradual decline of professional level orchestras here in the states I have been thinking a lot about what I’m going to do with my life after I get my masters and possibly even my doctoral degrees. The main option seems to be trying to find one of the coveted jobs at a good college/university, teaching a studio, and forming an ensemble with some of my colleagues while hopefully being able to perform in a good symphony in the area. However, I find this option to leave too much to chance, just as the idea of auditioning for countless struggling orchestras and symphonies leaves me feeling anxious and out of control of my future.

Being a music performance major by definition leaves the future open ended and uncertain: one doesn’t necessarily have the goal of teaching in mind, but one also can’t be completely confident in the possibility of landing a job desired by countless others. Especially as a flutist where the possible jobs in each orchestra are only two—unless if you are also quite proficient on the piccolo, in which case the job options are three—and even then one has to be in the right place at the right time to even get an audition, much less a callback and a job offer.

So what does this mean? Did I simply pick the completely wrong field? Well, probably. But! I’m not in a place right now where I can just drop music and find a “real job,” like various well-meaning (and some not-so-well-meaning) people have advised. Instead I’m going to do what I think I need to do to secure a job in the future: I simply need to be the best player I can be in all aspects of the flute. That means working hard orchestral-ly (something that I’ve been trained to do for the last four years), as well as forming chamber ensembles, performing new music, different and strange music, and all sorts of genres which are suited for the flute—maybe even some that aren’t well suited for the flute. That means one thing for me right now: jazz.

Not only is jazz a wonderful thing to listen to, but also it has such a rich history and so many possibilities for the future. Obe has a “highlights of the jazz story in USA” poster in our living room and it’s one of those things where so much has happened and is happening now that one can’t help but want to hop on the bandwagon and see what the big deal is. The groove, the swing, jamming, improvisation; these are all things that are embodied in the pursuit of jazz.

Jazz is also slightly terrifying. Where does a flute fit in this world? Especially a flute that has been trained orchestrally—sure I can play most things put in front of me, but what will I do when I’m asked to play what’s inside of me, fitting it into what’s around me? Intense.

It’s only fitting that I’m writing my thesis paper on improvisation and the effects on creativity and performance (both in and out of the musical world) improv has on students. If I didn’t explore improvisation more in depth then I would have absolutely no credibility on the subject.

So jazz it is. 

When in Rome

Well today I finally recorded my audition CD for the Rome Festival this summer. If all goes well they will give me money and I will fly to Italy this summer. While there I would perform in multiple symphony concerts, be a part of a fully staged opera and ballet, and I would have the chance to perform in master-classes and in chamber ensembles with other members of the festival. Ages vary from pre-pubescent to octogenarians and members come from all over the globe.

Did I mention it’s in Italy? Yeah. So I’m definitely crossing my fingers on that one.

Which brings me to a thought: is it a good thing to keep ones expectations low, in order to not be let down? As I’m preparing my audition CD and thinking about the festival I can’t help but get excited (I mean, I’ve been wanting to travel abroad for years now, and this is finally the time and place for it). But then I also think that maybe I should keep this application to myself, not talk about the possibility of being accepted, and just in general pretend that nothing exciting is happening. If I do that and don’t get accepted then it won’t be as big of a deal…right?

Well, no. I don’t think that’s the case. I definitely used to—I remember applying for graduate schools, auditioning for competitions, and just in general doing exciting and new things, and downplaying them so severely in my mind that (I was convinced) I wouldn’t be bothered if things didn’t turn out well for me. But really… who was I kidding? Besides myself obviously. I applied for graduate schools and would tell anyone that it wasn’t a big deal, that I’m just applying for these schools and that it really doesn’t matter to me. It’s as if the very thought that that other person would know that I was invested, excited, and terrified by something, well, terrified me. Why did we feel the need to cheapen our goals and ourselves by pretending they don’t matter? I know, I know, there are plenty of people out there that are arrogant, egotistical, self-serving, and attention whores, but that doesn’t mean that others have to be quiet, self-effacing, and overly modest about what’s going on in our own lives.

It’s an attempt to not be hurt by bad news, rejection, failure…we pretend it doesn’t matter because it matters so much that not succeeding will cause pain. Humanity doesn’t do well with pain (unless you’re a masochist I suppose). I remember when I did not get accepted to my top choice music school last year. I got the letter, kept a stiff upper lip for about an hour or so and then broke down sobbing hysterically. I felt like I had failed life, not just been not accepted to a school. Pretending that it didn’t matter or wasn’t important beforehand had not prepared me for that blow. In fact it made me even less capable of handling it because everyone around me was confused—when you tell your friends and family that something doesn’t matter to you and subsequently freak out and have an emotional breakdown when that thing doesn’t go the way you had planned, they don’t quite understand how to respond.

I’m not saying that everyone should run around wearing their emotions on their sleeves, incessantly blabbing about what they have going on in their lives to the point of exhausting and boring their friends and family to tears. What I am saying is that if something is exciting and important and meaningful to you… let someone know. If something is important to you it should be important to your friends and family. If it’s not, then something is wrong and you have other (more important) things to be worrying about.

I’m excited for my opportunity to spend the summer in Rome. I hope that once I get there I will have time on weekends to travel to all sorts of different countries. I plan to make the most of the experience, meet new people, make new friends, and maybe even find or make a job for myself as a musician abroad. I will never get these opportunities if I don’t try, and I will never get the support of my friends and family if I constantly downplay these opportunities and pretend they don’t matter.