Persichetti
The NIU Wind Ensemble played Persichetti's "Pageant for Band" last night. Listening pulled a rush of visceral memories--many kinesthetic--from the back of my mind.
I remembered, but with an outside perspective, the kind of person I was back when one of my expectations included rehearsing music with the high school band four or five days a week. There was a structure to it, and I wasn't aware at the time, but in retrospect I really . . . I benefited from that little bit of order to (almost) every school day.
Back then, I hadn't the slightest idea that it was even possible for young people to hear live music. Along with the gaming circles I discovered all-too-late, I lament most of all missing this information as a teenager. There is no one to blame, but the misguided assumption handed to me by wider-media, suggesting live-music events only happened in stadiums where tickets sold for $115 for obstructed-view seats.
Importantly, I remembered that music has been an important part of my life since before I started frequenting local venues. Importantly, I remembered that *I used to play music*--and how pleasurable it was when I finally learned a section, and could perform it expressively.
Strangely, I can't remember specifically when I was learning Persichetti's piece. I think it was my 3rd year . . . but can't be sure. Hearing the piece sparked vague whispers of the other works I learned, and particularly of two pieces I worked on during my last semester. These I can't remember.
These memories have helped me . . . but have not proved a cure-all for the depression I vividly noticed myself in yesterday afternoon (stretching back unnoticed to around Halloween).
Another brief moment of joy this afternoon--receiving my British Poetry test--but this, too, faded quickly. I want to say I am in a better position to climb back into my normal functioning having identified being in a period of depression . . . so I'll do that.
Let's say that.
I remembered, but with an outside perspective, the kind of person I was back when one of my expectations included rehearsing music with the high school band four or five days a week. There was a structure to it, and I wasn't aware at the time, but in retrospect I really . . . I benefited from that little bit of order to (almost) every school day.
Back then, I hadn't the slightest idea that it was even possible for young people to hear live music. Along with the gaming circles I discovered all-too-late, I lament most of all missing this information as a teenager. There is no one to blame, but the misguided assumption handed to me by wider-media, suggesting live-music events only happened in stadiums where tickets sold for $115 for obstructed-view seats.
Importantly, I remembered that music has been an important part of my life since before I started frequenting local venues. Importantly, I remembered that *I used to play music*--and how pleasurable it was when I finally learned a section, and could perform it expressively.
Strangely, I can't remember specifically when I was learning Persichetti's piece. I think it was my 3rd year . . . but can't be sure. Hearing the piece sparked vague whispers of the other works I learned, and particularly of two pieces I worked on during my last semester. These I can't remember.
These memories have helped me . . . but have not proved a cure-all for the depression I vividly noticed myself in yesterday afternoon (stretching back unnoticed to around Halloween).
Another brief moment of joy this afternoon--receiving my British Poetry test--but this, too, faded quickly. I want to say I am in a better position to climb back into my normal functioning having identified being in a period of depression . . . so I'll do that.
Let's say that.
posted by SJ at 11/12/2007 09:31:00 PM
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