An oboist's cardinal rules

Yup, that's me in the orange sweater. Me in my mid-twenties, Principal oboe of the Romanian Opera of Timisoara. My first full-time gig, which I did for four years before moving back home to Vermont.

When I came home, I felt determined to make music my full-time career. I picked up a job as a waitress (which I was terrible at), and started auditioning. But, part-way into this exhausting and demoralizing process, I realized that I didn't want to have to move away again. I also realized that I wanted a home, children, car, etc. and there was no guarantee I would be anywhere near that within the next decade! So, I went back to school, became a nurse, and decided that my music career was over.

But every time I held onto that thought, some opportunity to play again came up, and I was right back into it. Once you've tasted the excitement of performing, can you ever go back? So the gigs multiplied, and started to encroach on my "day job". That's when I realized how deeply my musician's work ethic was ingrained in my psyche, and how that work ethic did not cross over into my day job.

I was taught that,

1. arriving less than thirty minutes before a rehearsal was the equivalent to arriving LATE (and arriving earlier than that is even better especially as an oboist).

2. you arrive at the first rehearsal PREPARED.

3. my own personal work habits include at least one freak-out moment when I have to make sure I have the right reeds, music, instrument, stand, black (all black) clothes, shoes, etc. This usually happens half-way down my driveway, although I have been known to do this while cruising down the interstate.

As a freelance musician, there is at least one additional rule. You do NOT turn down a gig, especially with a group that:

1. performs music that you love at a high level

2. could advance your career

3. pays well

Turning down this kind of gig can mean you don't get asked back!

To me these aren't just rules. They are the difference between being a professional and being an amateur. This begs the question, is this nature or nurture? Was I trained to follow these rules? Or did I absorb and create these rules because music means so much to me?

What prompted me to examine this idea is a recent experience has made me have to break that last, cardinal rule...

But back to opera...

I may have been raised to appreciate classical music, but I was NOT raised to appreciate opera. The job at the Romanian Opera was just a chance to almost make a living - Romanian money was worth very little back then. (I had a friend describe his job of many years at the Met as the "golden hand-cuffs". The Romanian Opera was more like tin-foil handcuffs :) ) But, despite my inherited aversion to opera, working day-in and day-out with those terrific musicians, both in the pit and on-stage, learning the works of Verdi, Puccini, Rossini, and many others, performing two- to three-times a week, I fell in love.

So, returning to Vermont and giving up on music also meant giving up on opera. Even when I started working around the state, there were little to no opportunities t hear opera, let alone perform it!

Enter the Opera Company of Middlebury!

For anyone who hasn't heard of the OCM, they are a Vermont-based company that performs each fall and spring at the Town Hall Theater in Middlebury. They have tackled works by Puccini, Verdi, Mozart, Rossini, and others that I can't name off the top of my head. So this year, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, they decided to perform Candide by Leonard Bernstein as a live-streamed event. I was practically drooling over the oboe part, listening to performances conducted by Bernstein, putting together a solid arsenal of reeds, ordering special instrument covers...it was glorious.

But then I was forced to break the cardinal rule of free-lancing. I've been stuck at home, not just because of COVID, but because of herniated disc in my back. I had been optimistic in January, after a series of injections, that I would be able to tolerate rehearsing for 6 hours and then recording for 6 hours over a weekend, but as the steroids have worn off the awful truth came to me in the voice of my husband asking, "do you really think you can do this?" And the truth was, of course I can't. So I made the dreaded call, helped find a sub, and mourned.

The OCM orchestra recorded their part this past weekend, and one musician said that members of the orchestra wept when they played the overture. Reading that, part of me almost wept as well. But part of me felt so proud of the profession that has chosen me. I'm not the only musician who follows a set of rules similar to my own. We hold ourselves to a strict standard of excellence, in honor of the amazing music that we make together.

#oboe #oboelife #operacompanyofmiddlebury #ORT #OCM

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For anyone interested in checking out the Opera Company of Middlebury's upcoming performance, here's a link to their website: https://ocmvermont.org/

Anticipation.....

I'm often very cautious about spending money on myself, but whenever I have invested in my business I've never regretted it. So, when the recent stimulus money came through, I thought it was time for a serious upgrade!

(This post may get a little technical, as my inner reed geek is released)

One of the much talked-about aspects among oboists of making oboe reeds (other than how difficult it can be) is gouging. Gouging is the step when cane has already been split, and now needs to be made thin enough to work with. Of course, like everything else about the oboe, absolute precision is a MUST. When we talk about how thick a piece of cane is gouged, we're talking in MICROMETERS.

I was not taught how to gouge cane in school. Agreed, I had an unorthodox education, but at that time my teachers felt that gouging was just another tedious step, and that it was easier to simply buy cane that had already been gouged. But, almost a decade ago, I began to find it harder and harder to purchase gouged cane that met my needs. Enter my first gouging machine!

This is an elderly RDG gouger (made by RDG Woodwinds). It was a great gouger to learn on, and experiment with. Buying this machine used made it much more affordable (gougers are not cheap) and gave me the freedom to explore how I could change the gouge, and how that affected my reeds.

But, as this was an elderly gouger almost a decade ago, it is starting to wear out. The springs that hold its clips in place have rusted to the point of simply dissolving into little piles of dust. Plus, I wanted to explore the much discussed double-radius gouge. Diving into the super technical technicalities, a single-radius gouge simply carves out a gully right down the middle of the cane. A double-radius gouge, however, carves two overlapping gullies, one to each side, so there is a slightly thicker middle and thinner sides. (I said this would get technical...let the inner reed geek reign!)

Fortunately, it's easy to purchase cane gouged on a particular machine, kind of like a test-drive of the gouge. So the grand experiment for the past few weeks has been trying multiple types of pre-gouged cane, and deciding which gouge works for me. Double-radius definitely won out, in particular a gouger made by Pierre Roy, and as a bonus I now have a REED SURPLUS!!!

I've ordered the new machine, and should be getting it some time next week. In the meantime, I'm like a kid on Christmas Eve. I keep revisiting Pierre Roy's site and drooling over the shiny new gougers. Once I actually get the machine, I will have more pics and possibly videos. As I said before, I wasn't taught how to gouge cane, and I've turned to YouTube for a lot of my gouging questions. I'd love to contribute to that forum, and maybe help other oboists experimenting with the gouge, seeking that elusive "perfect reed."

Is two better than one? - the double reed conundrum

Here in Vermont, we're still waiting for signs of Spring. That includes the deadly dry air that makes the trickier aspects of playing double reed instruments almost as bad as we tell the rest of the orchestra! Those beautiful reeds that were my favorites suffer a personality change. I'm sure my single-reed playing friends struggle with the same problems, but from what I can see we oboists and bassoonists get a raw deal.

I recently said in an Instagram post that making reeds is fun, except when they don't work. Like my daughter, I loved arts and crafts as a kid. Drawing, painting, knitting, macrame, all competed with music as my favorite subjects. The oboe gave me a place to put that aspect of creativity to work, while still studying to be a musician. The string colors, the beautiful shiny brass of new staples, and the smooth bark of the cane can be a pleasure to work with - until they don't behave as I expect, and it all goes wrong!

The Jekyll and Hyde nature of oboe reeds is a year-round challenge, which only worsens in the winter months. Travel doesn't help either, with changes in humidity, altitude, and temperature all taking their toll. Is the answer plastic reeds? We've all dreamed of owning reeds that don't wear out and have a consistent tone and response. Reeds that don't wake up in the morning, feel the chill (or dry, or humid) air and decide to roll over and go back to sleep. Reeds that don't argue about which notes they will play, how close to A440 they'll be, or if they chose to play low (or high) notes on a given day.

But...call me foolish, but I would miss the challenge! I create my own sound concept with each reed I make. I still love the feel of a well-sharpened knife scraping the bark off a new reed blank. I even like the smell of new cane! (all good things, since the oboe is my chosen instrument, and I'm not ready to learn a new one at this point in my life) So, my solution to finicky reeds is....keep making more! One reed that hates mornings may love the hot concert hall lights in the evenings. Another reed prefers tropical climates...which might come in handy some day? (a girl can hope...) The more reeds I have in my reed case, the better the chances are that at least one of them actually likes the humidity/temperature/atmospheric pressure/color of the day.

So, I'm storing up blanks for the Spring equinox. I'm keeping my options open, stacking the reed-deck in my favor. When the snow starts to retreat, and the ski resorts close down, I'll be ready!!