After dodging the first six rehearsals or so, I got an email from the pit conductor asking if I was playing or not. I finally wrote her back explaining that I thought the music was horrible and it hurt me to the core of my very being, but I'd been to afraid to tell her so. Peter Pan had a total of nine performances and at least a couple of pick-up rehearsals, and the thought of being chained to that many disco balls overwhelmed me like a whirling nightmare. But, since I'd already agreed, I wasn't one to back out on account of my own poor judgment. It looked like I was stuck.

Heading six feet under once again for the annual community musical felt a lot like attending a family reunion: quirks and clashes, but plenty of food, and familiar bonds we've shared over the years that keep us more or less loosely knit together. (You know, the kind of bond where you give a knowing nod to the bass player right before the ridiculous suspense music of #26B.) The whole production was ridiculous, but when you're in the pit, you're family. A ridiculous family.

One by one, I acquired each riff and run, flinging them up and down the finger board with all the flourish and style of a dancing queen, basking in the afterglow of last fall's Sarasate drills. Okay, I admit, it was kind of fun. After all, how many times does a violinist get the opportunity to jazz it up on the back beats and ham it up on the tremelo? I found myself, despite my classical inclinations and taste for finer compositional standards, thoroughly entertained by the various multi-octave scales that filled the pick-up beats to the disco octave rhythms. With each show, our performance improved, and we were beginning to round the corner as quite a tight ensemble. Word got out, and our shows began to sell out. Yes, we definitely had something good going on.

Over the course of things, my ears kept gravitating toward a new saxophone player across the way, who continued to impress me with his impeccable intonation and stylish, well-rehearsed solos. His warm-ups before shows and during intermissions always served as a sedative to my ears. Who was this obviously talented man, and why was he here in Soldotna? A quick post-performance google stalk provided answers.

Saxophone guy held two masters degrees in performance and education from the University of Florida, yet the opportunity to acquire a teaching position with the Kenai Peninsula Public School District was his "ultimate dream job". Ultimate dream job? What was I missing here? I'd been feeling trapped in a dead end town with no venues, playing second rate music for second rate performances. As I was looking for a way out, he'd been looking for a way into this scene.

Audience members from yesterday's show reviewed it as being better than a production they'd seen in Anchorage the previous week. Maybe we weren't so second-rate after all. Just because we don't get paid doesn't mean we can't be professional. And just because current musical venues don't exist doesn't mean we can't make them. Perhaps a community is not valued by what we get from it, but what we put into it.

We only have three shows left. Three more battles over 440 A. Three more days of crocodile themes and fairy dialogue. I'm catching myself looking forward to next weekend's performances, hoping we can make them even better. And when the last curtain falls, I dare say, I will actually be sad. After all, there's no room for loneliness down in the pit orchestra.

I struck a deal with the conductor, who's a fantastic clarinetist: I'll trade her Peter Pan for the Khachaturian trio. And maybe I'll find a good saxophone/violin duet or something, learn some Piazzola for a change of pace. There's serious musicians to be had here, and I just need to take the steps to make new music happen in this community.

Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky: maybe the next pioneer who moves to Soldotna to pursue a dream career will be a professional cellist.

 

 

My View of Peter Pan

   Have you spoken with the saxophone player? Hope so! Are there other unfamiliar faces in the group? Given the frustrations you expressed in your last post I would think that you’ve taken advantage of this chance to network like crazy.