Euphoria

Once in a great while, we do or experience something that lets us feel, for one brief shining moment, a sense of euphoria. That spine-tingling, heart-pounding rush of excitement, where we grin hugely, involuntarily, and glow with it for a while after the sensation subsides.

That usually NEVER happens in my band classes. Especially when you have 7th grade boys and 8th grade girls together.

But it did, Friday afternoon, just a little, not strong, but it was definitely there, and I've been thinking about it ever since. It was the last thing I ever expected to happen in that class!

On most days, we have rehearsal. The procedure is that the kids come into the room, get their instruments and music, and we get down to business. It's nice to carry out the routine of the rehearsal in order, and for the kids to know what we'll be doing on any given day. They have some time at the beginning of class to chat while they get ready, but once I indicate class is starting, they must quiet down and follow the procedure.

We usually begin with some breathing exercises and stretching. I learned this technique from the conductor of grown-up band, and although in my 15 years of playing in various ensembles under various conductors I had never ever opened a rehearsal with breathing and stretching, it seems to work so well for me right now to alleviate stress and set a good tone for the class. At the very least, the kids are quiet for a few minutes!

Next is our warm-up scale. I have the kids play the concert B-flat scale every which way--long notes to work on breath control and tone, shorter ones to work on finger and embouchure technique, and chords to work on balance and tuning. If I do whole notes, half notes, and quarter notes, they're not happy, they want to do eighth notes, too!

After that, the order of songs to be rehearsed is posted on the board. I usually work on the most urgent songs or parts of songs first, the ones that need the most attention or reinforcement (which I can't ever determine well in advance because it depends on how the kids learn each song or section) then move to more familiar or easy ones toward the end, when everyone's getting a little bored and restless or their chops are just tired.

In the middle-high band on Thursday of last week, I said that we were going to run--and then they stopped me breathlessly and said, but this isn't gym class!!--all of the songs straight through. Conductor talk sometimes confuses them. I then specified, have all the songs on your stands so we don't have to shuffle halfway through. The reward, of course, for getting the day's work done before the bell rings means a few extra minutes for them. (Although that doesn't usually work because they're so, well, immature. Keeping them in their seats right up to the bell is my best strategy to avoid running/throwing/roughhousing incidents.)

So we ran the songs for the first time. We have an opener that the kids are sick of, but it's a very nice Baroque march written by Handel for one of his operettas. Then we move on to our Christmas Suite, where we play one song with everyone, one for just the winds and brass, and one for just the percussion. If we do the suite often enough, hopefully the kids will quit staring and laughing at one another when it's not their turn because they'll get used to it. Don'tcha just love the middle school years?

We end with a beginning-band version of the William Tell Overture, minus the thunderstorm and cello solo. It opens with a trumpet fanfare, and then rolls along merrily with the Lone Ranger chasing the enemy over the prairie with Tonto right behind him, the melody changing and switching off between the clarinets and trumpets (because of course you can't hear William Tell without thinking of the Lone Ranger). At the end of the piece, the rhythm abruptly changes. The important part is that suddenly there are rests in places where there were no rests before including a full measure of rest before we gallop straight through to the end.

These strategic rests, up til now, gave the kids fits. There was always one drummer, or someone in the brass section, that would miss it and play when there should be silence. And unlike high school, the kids have to stop and laugh and then it just falls apart and we waste precious time getting them under control again.

Thursday was different. Maybe it was because I had my baton out so I could start getting the kids used to the way I wanted to start and conduct the piece. Maybe it was because running the song made it finally gel. Maybe the stars were aligned properly.

Whatever it was, by the time we got to the end, which is rather bombastic, nobody was off. Everyone observed the rests. I don't even conduct the measure of rest because, well, it's just cool not to. I just breathe and give an upbeat to prepare for their entrance. The kids were right on cue, exactly together, and nobody missed the last three notes. They even kept their instruments up and waited those few seconds for the last note to sink in and only moved after I lowered my baton--prolonging the excitement.

It. Was. Awesome. By the time we reached the end and I knew for certain everyone was feeling it, I had a huge grin on my face. Sort of; I was trying not to grin but I think the kids could see and feel what they had accomplished. I really would describe the feeling as euphoria, and it was so wonderful because it was unexpected, as I said, the last thing I ever would have thought would happen in that class.

Euphoria. The last thing. But there it was, buoying me through the weekend and renewing my faith in minor miracles.