My percussion career is really a crazy story. I fell in love with an activity because of the name, practiced for stickers and learned for successes. As I look back on it all, it really was a fascinating journey. This is the story of how I began, why I continued and how I matured into a successful percussionist.
Music class at Northwest Elementary was always enjoyable to me. It was my favorite "special" class of the week, topping others which included gym and art. From first through fourth grade, I spent a half hour every week singing songs, playing classroom instruments and learning basic music skills from Mrs. Dudeck. She was such a bubbly person who always could be seen with a smile on her face. She was the vocal music teacher at Northwest and directed the fifth and sixth grade chorus.
I was always one of the most vocal and active participants of her music classes. I just loved it. We would sing simple songs and she would teach us really basic music reading skills to get our feet wet and expose us to music. One of my favorite songs that she would have us sing was "
." It seemed like we would sing that song every week. This song is, of course, contains the famous lyrics:
The Butler Vagabonds Drum Corps at the time was a struggling organization with a bright past and a dim future. My mom and dad met when they were both in the vagabonds in the late 80's, early 90's. My mom was in the color guard and my dad played the trumpet and contra. After they aged out, they continued to volunteer for the organization, along with a number of family members on my mother's side. The Vagabond Center played host to bingo nights on Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. My brother and I would typically go on Friday nights with my parents as they helped run the bingo games.
When I joined the Vagabonds in fourth grade, I was also beginning to learn how to play percussion at Northwest. I loved both. The challenging task of learning multiple instruments at once as it would seem to some didn't seem all too difficult to me, as I would practice for fun and do a lot of self-teaching and exploring of the instruments.
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| Butler Vagabonds 2007 |
The Vagabonds was made up of 90% Leonard decedents at the time of my entry into the corps. If it weren't for my cousins, I am not quite sure that there would have been a corp to march in parades at the time. Every Monday or Tuesday night that we would practice was like a big family reunion with all of my cousins. I received a lot of one-on-one instruction and quickly moved to first trumpet with an impressive range for a fourth grader.
At the same time, I was practicing countless minutes at home on my school percussion music. For every week that we had 100 minutes of practice time, we earned a sticker for the sticker chart in the music room. The colorful array of stickers held some accountable and taught others how to forge their parent's initials on a weekly basis. My parent's wouldn't go for that.
I practiced my 100 minutes every week, sometimes even 200. I wanted to have more stickers than everyone on the sticker chart. That wouldn't happen in fourth grade, but you better believe that in fifth and sixth grade that it did.
It was a visual way of measuring the work that I had put in to learning and practicing my instrument. I wanted to work harder than everyone and have more stickers than everyone. For this reason, I took percussion more seriously than the trumpet.
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| Spring Band Concert Northwest Elementary 2008 |
Just because there were no sticker charts with the Vagabonds doesn't mean that I did not take playing the trumpet seriously. I took it very seriously. The idea of being able to play a melody was fascinating and I quickly learned how to play back tunes that I would hear and read ahead in my music book to play more challenging and entertaining songs. My motivation for the trumpet differed from that of percussion.
With percussion, I wanted to have more stickers than everybody else. With trumpet, I simply wanted to outplay my much older cousins. Once I began to, I never looked back. Success and recognition from my elders fueled me and the taste of success was addicting.
After three years of playing both instruments, it was time to transition to the Jr. High. I began to lose interest in the trumpet, as the seriousness of the Vagabonds organization lessened and the motivation to continue faded.
In January of my sixth grade year, I decided to attempt a transition to the drumline with the vagabonds. After discussing it with my instructors and parents, it became a no brainer. I was given "Winter Wonderland" to audition on and given a week to prepare the piece. It was challenging, as it had numerous flams and was in 12/8. After a few days of practice, I had adequately learned the piece and prepared it to the best of my ability to play for the drum instructor before a Monday night rehearsal. I entered with my sticks, pad and music and was ready to show off what I could do to the instructor.
I felt really good about the way I played the piece. My heart raced after I completed the piece and anxiously awaited the comments from the drum instructor.
I couldn't have been more disappointed.
It was as if he had been told to not offer any positive feedback in order to get me to stay on trumpet. Not a single positive comment that came out of his mouth. The hours that I had spent preparing the piece were instantly put to shame.
I persisted in asking him for another piece to learn for the next week. I even suggested acting as an alternate on the line so I could still play trumpet, but have the option to play on the line if there was a shortage during a performance. I was shot down, told I had no future on the line and that I should stick to trumpet. It was one of the lowest nights of my life up to that point.
My parents decided that it was time to end my time with the Vagabonds. I finished out my commitment that season and didn't return for the next year. Out of curiosity at my last Vagabond banquet, I asked the music director and brass instructor his thoughts on what I should do at the Jr. High - play the trumpet, or play percussion? Obviously, they both said trumpet. This wouldn't alter my decision, as it was already made up.
My elementary music days had came to a close and I was on to the Jr. High. I was prepared to go from being a big fish in a small pond, to a small fish in an enormous pond.
Battle
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| Before the 7th Grade Band Concert |
The Butler Junior High School. What a place it was. The Jr. High had a major impact on my
personality and helped to mold me from a silly child to a silly young teenager. With everything that I was involved in at the Jr. High, including academics, drama and the TV studio, music was no longer the main focus of my school week. Band was now a graded class and I got to practice my music during the school day instead of making time every day at home. There were no more sticker charts, no more incentives - or so I thought.
There were around 25-35 percussionists that started in 7th grade. Mrs. Bailey was going to have each member of the band play an audition piece to determine seating in the group and establish a "pecking order" so to speak. Not only did we have a piece to play on the snare drum, we also had a piece to play on a mallet instrument. I was new to mallets, but I could read music from my trumpet experience, which set me apart from others early on. I had just begun taking private lessons from Stephanie Cicero as per a recommendation from Mrs. Karenbauer and hours of begging my dad to make the phone call.
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| Me and the Ocean Drum - 8th Grade Concert |
I perfected my audition pieces in order to impress my new music teacher and get off to a good start at the Junior High School. Out of all 30-some percussionists that auditioned, I was ranked second by a percentage point. I held onto the score sheet too. I was scored at 98%, and Preston Snyder was scored at a 99%. The top five or six kids were all within ten percentage points of each other. We were told that we would re-audition during the second semester. After seeing how well I did, I had a new incentive. Beat Preston Snyder.
It was a silly battle that I had created in my head. Little would I know that Preston would turn out to be one of my closest friends in high school.
My love for competition and the feeling of accomplishment pushed me to perfect my mallet skills and snare reading skills to become the top of my class.
The second semester, I scored 100%, and Preston scored a 99%. We both were asked to play in the 8th grade band concert, as well as the 7th grade concert. I was first chair and Preston was second chair during all of 8th grade as well. I never looked back.
Mrs. Bailey told me that I had potential to succeed in honors band. I had no idea what she was talking about, nor did I care. I was happier that she saw potential in me. She told me that if I wanted to be successful, I should consider purchasing a xylophone or a marimba. After looking at the prices of the instruments, I laughed and considered it an afterthought. My $100 bell kit was the most money that I had put into my music up until that point, and I was perfectly content with that. I didn't want to buy success, I wanted to earn it. I knew that there were other alternatives to learning how to play.
I was serious about playing in junior high but not as serious as I could have been. It was still a hobby that I didn't have to work extremely hard at to succeed. Then came marching band.
Freshman Target
It was the end of 8th grade and I was auditioning for marching band in front of the director of the band that I had watched from the sidelines and from the sidewalks for as long as I could remember. It was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life up to that point. I nailed the audition. On the spot, he guaranteed me a spot on a drum and that I was "too good to be put on cymbals." If that doesn't motivate and excite someone, I don't know what does.
In the Yaracs era, it was unheard of for a freshman to get snare. It rarely happened up until that point. In the weeks between the audition and the assignment posting, there were rumors and speculations, jealousy and anger, high tensions and high emotions. Those of us vying for spots on the line were in heavy competition with one another.
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| Me and Preston - First performance @New Castle 2010 |
I was the first one in the band room on the morning that the assignments were posted. I saw my name along with Preston's under the word "Snare" and I couldn't have been more happy. I ran back to the TV Studio where my homeroom was and called my mom at home and texted my dad at work. There were no phones allowed in school, but I didn't care. I wast thrilled. I called my mom who responded with a scream and unrecognizable, proud congratulatory statements.
My class that started in 7th grade with 35 kids was down to six percussionists. Two were on bass, two were on snare and two were on cymbals.
Now it was time for the real work to begin. I had to actually memorize difficult music and be able to move to it. I was ready for the challenge.
I showed up to mini-camp in June prepared and ready to show the upperclassmen what I could do. I had the music for about a week and I had a good feel for most of it going into mini-camp, where the upperclassmen would be sight reading the music. I raised some eyebrows and made good first impressions. The feeling of accomplishment was there again and I loved it. I loved the feeling that I was making people proud - my parents, my past and present teachers - and that I was making myself proud.
I memorized my music during the summer, which upperclassmen wouldn't do until full band camp started. Entering camp with my music memorized rubbed some people the wrong way. I kept quiet and did my job.
Serious
During my freshman year, I was introduced to PMEA. As a freshman, you're not allowed to participate in PMEA festivals other than honors band. By the time that I had learned about honors band, it was too late to prepare the audition material.
I had also learned of an opportunity to play in the pit orchestra for musicals. In order to participate in the All-School musical pit, I had to audition for PMEA Honors Band my sophomore year. I wanted to get as involved as possible.
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| Freshman band concert |
I was still in my freshman year, wanting to do everything and anything. I decided to audition for the Tornado Big Band at virtually the last minute. I didn't make it. With no jazz experience, let alone no
drum set experience, I had low expectations for making the band. I didn't even have a drum set at home to practice on. I made a set with a stool, phone books and drum pads and assorted them on my bed. I had two lessons on drum set and then I auditioned. I didn't expect to make it, but I was still disappointed.
Shortly after failing to make the Tornado Big Band, I was asked to join the worship team at North Street Christian Church. The invitation couldn't have been timed better.
I had a lot to work on going into my sophomore year and I was up to the challenge.
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| My first Tornado Big Band Dance |
I worked tirelessly on the honors band solos, got a drum set for Christmas to practice and re-audition for big band, and developed my technique and skills during private lessons. I improved dramatically between my freshman and sophomore year and made big band my sophomore year. Then it was time to get serious.
First came honors band.
I wasn't nervous going into the audition. I was prepared. I had Mr. Yaracs listen to my audition pieces and he was impressed. He offered his encouragement and support. I was actually more nervous playing for him than I was in the audition room.
On a sunny November night, I sat in the back seat of my dad's work van while eating pizza rolls, starting math homework and mentally preparing myself for the audition. I continued this pre-audition ritual each of the three years that I auditioned.
I was one of the first to audition because I had to get back to the Senior High School for "1776" musical rehearsal. It was my first musical tech week as well.
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| Honors Band 2011 - First PMEA concert |
I walked in the room and saw a familiar face: Mr. Yaracs. That was such a calming sight. The three other judges had their backs to me and I had no pressure at all. I played all three pieces better than I had before. Then I sight read a piece on snare, which I thought was pretty easy.
I got a text from Mr. Kroner later that evening at musical which read "6th YOU'RE IN." I never deleted that message. It is one of the few that still remains on my old Motorola flip phone. I was ecstatic. Especially considering the fact that everybody above me was a senior except for one junior.
The next day, I was told a summary of my scores. Without sight reading scores, I was first chair. The judges felt that my excerpts were above the others. For some odd reason which I still do not know to this day, my sight reading scores dropped me to sixth chair. It was good enough to make it, but not good enough to satisfy me.
At district band with the same group of percussionists, I received 5th chair - not enough to advance to region band.
It hurt a lot, but I still had district orchestra to look forward to. I was motivated to do well at district orchestra and advance. There was a challenging mallet excerpt that required a lot of preparation and attention to detail.
The group at district orchestra was talented, but not too prepared. I got first chair by around 100 points, which is a landslide in PMEA.
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| Practicing "Jubilee" for WRSO 2012 |
At Region Orchestra, I was beginning to feel the pressure. I practiced my music for endless hours during school, after school and outside of school both at home and with Stephanie. I received private lessons from our student teacher at the time who was a percussionist studying music education at Slippery Rock University. He is now pursuing his masters in performance from Indiana University, one of the top percussion schools in the country.
I had a lot of practice. I felt over prepared. It was becoming stressful and no longer fun. I was visibly stressed in school apparently because one day after an hour of practicing in the band room, Mr. Kroner pulled me out of the room and warned me to not forget why I play. I play to have fun. He warned me that if I stressed too much about my music I would no longer enjoy it. He also warned me that with talent comes jealousy and anger. He foreshadowed the next three years of my high school playing career in that sentence.
This didn't stop me from over preparing for my audition. I was ready.
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| Last second practicing |
Mars High School, March 21 2012. It was audition day. We didn't stop for dinner because there was supposed to be food at the school. There was not. I had cheez-itz for dinner. I sat under a bright light for two hours before the audition in the auditorium and got a bad headache. I then sat in the aisle and tried to get some last second practice in (right).
I remember walking back a long dimly lit hallway to the audition room. The four of us sat outside the room small-talking while the judges and proctor went over the music. The auditions are blind with 3-5 judges facing away from you and a proctor that communicates with the students. Every audition for me up until that point had Mr. Yaracs as my proctor. I felt comfortable and relaxed seeing a familiar face who knew how I played going into an audition. This one, however, was different.
Mr. Yaracs was proctoring a section of woodwinds that evening, so I thought that I would have an unfamiliar proctor, which I was perfectly fine with. Waiting outside the room for the proctor to give us our audition selections, I studied my competition. Three other percussionists vying for two spots in the All-State Orchestra. They were all seniors. Again, I was the young kid trying to make a good impression. In talking, I learned that one student had already qualified for All-State Concert Band, so he was ineligible for All-State Orchestra, and therefore the audition didn't matter to him. He would later get first chair in All-State Concert Band.
I had to only beat one of the two eligible for states. I knew that I was in a good position if I could keep my focus.
The door opened and out stepped the proctor who was oh too familiar.
Mr. Kroner proctored the audition. I started to get nervous. He had never actually heard or watched me play before. What was he going to think? Could I impress him? Does he know how to be impressed by a percussionist? He always talked about how he knew nothing about percussion. He did, however, know what I was capable of. I was nervous for an audition for the first time that year.
The audition material that the judges had picked was extensive, but predictable. Almost predictable. There were two excerpts on timpani, two on battery percussion (bass & snare), and two on mallets.
There was only one song that had mallets though. What was the second mallet excerpt?
The Star-Spangled Banner.
I didn't practice the banner on mallets more than two or three times. They never audition on the banner or the PMEA march. I was petrified. It wasn't a difficult excerpt, but it also wasn't the melody. It was an arranged version of our national anthem that I was unfamiliar with. If I could have my other excerpt score high enough to make up for my lack of preparation on the banner, I still stood a fair chance.
Walking into the audition, I kept my chin up and tried to avoid making eye contact with Mr. Kroner. The order went battery, timpani, mallets. I played my snare excerpt well and then played the bass drum excerpt fairly well.
It was time for the timpani excerpts. They weren't hard or too complicated. I walked over to the timpani and realized that I had forgotten my mallets outside of the room. Humiliated, I exited the audition room to retrieve my mallets.
At this point, my focus is anywhere but on my timpani excerpts. I played them decently, but not at the level that I could have.
Mallet time.
I nailed the first piece. There was a glissando followed by driving eighth notes. I practically memorized that piece. Feeling confident, I proceeded to the final excerpt: The Star Spangled Banner. To say that I dropped the ball on that one is an understatement.
I made it through without injury, but not without heartbreak. I knew that my chances at states were in jeopardy.
I sat in the auditorium depressed and frustrated with myself. How could so many things go wrong in one audition? I was thinking too much, too stressed and the activity was no longer fun that evening.
Because the festival was in Mars, it was a short commute home. Walking out to the school van, Mr. Kroner informed a sophomore violinist that she made states. She would not return to states after that year. He told a junior French horn and a junior bassoonist that they had both made states. He looked at me with a regretful face and said, "Josh, you missed states by three points."
Three points.
Three points is like falling half of a yard short of scoring a touchdown or getting robbed of a home run. If I had played even five more notes better in the banner, I could have made it.
The ultimate low point in my percussion career was on that night.
Recovery
I finished the festival and had an enjoyable time. The weeks that followed just added to the pain of missing states by three points.
My first girlfriend of almost two years broke up with me on the Saturday after the festival. A little over two weeks later on April 9, my grandfather passed away after a long battle with lung cancer. Those weeks were tough.
I needed a distraction. Music, the exact thing that had started a downward spiral of a couple weeks, also helped get me out of my slump.
I had started a percussion ensemble earlier that year with the freshmen and sophomore percussionists at Butler. We all pitched in to purchase a challenging song and worked for weeks to prepare the piece for the spring concert.
Our percussion ensemble played exceptionally well and the concert was a major success.
Music had successfully brought me down and built me back up.
Redemption
That summer, I worked endlessly on my honors band solos for my junior year. The mallet excerpt was
flight of the bumblebee.
I pinned the four medals that I received from my sophomore year on the wall beside the door to exit my room. I left a blank space for a fifth one that was supposed to be states. It was a reminder to me to never give up and to make a run at states my junior year.
Before I knew it, it was time for my honors band audition. I was more relaxed and confident than the year previous but still maintained a quiet and high level of confidence. The seniors that had ran the show last year were gone. It was my game to lose. I got first chair by around 30 points and was declared an automatic for district band which was to be held at Butler Intermediate High School. I found out when I was at tech rehearsal for the musical "School House Rock." I jumped out of my chair whenever I got a text saying "1st chair!!!!" from a senior who stayed at Westminster College to find out the results. Now, the real fun began.
District Orchestra came first, where I found myself in first chair for the second year in a row. My focus was on district band. It was about the same group from honors band but this time, they had more audition experience and more motivation to do well. The music was intense, exciting and challenging. There was a four-mallet excerpt that was a bigger challenge than flight of the bumblebee.
I had home-field advantage.
I practiced the four-mallet excerpt whenever I could at the Senior High, and then walked to the Intermediate to practice after school and during Big Band rehearsals. I learned it inside and out. I owned that piece. I threw all of my cards into one stack and hoped that it would be selected for the audition. It was.
I got first chair at district band by single digits and advanced to region band for the first time.
Region Orchestra came before region band, so I spent a majority of my time preparing for it over region band.
I over prepared once again but this time I enjoyed what I was doing. We commissioned a piece written by a local band director at the festival. The timpani writing was absurd and impossible. The snare piece was simple and the mallet selections were light. I studied the complicated timpani piece and analyzed the others as well.
The festival was to be held at Hollidaysburg High School. Coincidently, two of the seniors who were at region orchestra the previous year had both attended HBurg. I reached out to them, both music majors in college at this point, seeking advice on their school's timpani to know what to expect.
I over prepared.
I had fun doing it.
That was what set my junior year apart from the others. I knew what I was doing, but I had a blast doing it. I didn't have the first year jitters that I did my sophomore year. I had fun. More fun than I had doing anything else in school.
I walked into the audition room with a strange sight.
It was the sight of the judges' faces.
They could see me.
I had never had an audition that wasn't blind.
I kept calm and just played. I was relaxed, which worked in my favor. The sight of the judges faces threw off the others and made them nervous. I wasn't happy that the audition wasn't blind because one of the percussionist's private teacher was judging. He got last chair.
I got first chair and advanced to All-State Orchestra. I needed to get at least second, but got first. I couldn't wait.
Region band was next.
I had nothing riding on the region band audition, nor did the kid who got second chair at region orchestra. So, naturally, I over prepared.
I got first chair.
I had fun.
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| 2013 All-State Orchestra Percussion Section |
I qualified for states in both band and orchestra my junior year. I secured first chair in every festival that year except states.
What a ride. What a journey. What fun.
I got third chair at states behind a talented but egotistical senior and a sophomore who lived and breathed percussion.
I had made it.
Was I done? Not even close. I wanted the PMEA Sweep! First chair at every festival. I set my eyes on the career sweep. My goal: First chair at All-State Orchestra my senior year.
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| 2013 Pittsburgh Symphony Side-By-Side concert |
After the PMEA season was over, I played with the Pittsburgh Symphony in their side-by-side concert at Heinz Hall. That was fun. The PSO musicians were intimidating, knowledgeable and extremely talented. I played timpani for two of the three songs beside Ed Stephan, one of the most exciting and dynamic timpanists in the United States. He is also a percussion professor at Duquesne University, where he began recruiting me to go play.
"Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game." - Michael Jordan
That's what I did my senior year. I wanted to enjoy every second of my last year in high school and in PMEA.
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| Senior Picture |
I didn't over-prepare as much as I did my junior year, but I still prepared.
I still knew all of the music inside and out.
I still auditioned well and had fun doing it.
It was the junior year for so many players who were sophomores the year before. Like myself, they were hungry, motivated and up to the challenge.
I got second chair at honors band behind a talented junior from Seneca Valley. He was one of the nicest and down to earth guys there. Third chair belonged to another talented junior from Hopewell. He had gone to states the year before in concert band. We were all within single digits of each other. It was obvious that the year was going to be a hard-fought battle between the three of us.
District Orchestra came first again, and for the third year in a row, I found myself in first chair. The festival was held at IUP and I over prepared. I found myself in the band room 3-4 periods every day practicing for festivals over my high school years. That is half of the school day.
The day of the audition, somebody thought it would be a bright idea to allow us into the percussion practice room to "warm-up" aka "practice everything that you didn't yet" before the audition. That freaked me out, but also calmed me.
I was the only one really prepared. I knew that all that I had to do was play even half of what I could to get first chair. This time, confidence bit me in the behind.
I wound up with first chair by a large landslide. I was the only one who prepared the mallet excerpt. This was the worst audition that I had since WRSO sophomore year. I played each piece the worst that I had ever played it that night. I didn't feel deserving of first chair that festival, but I owned it, played a great concert and moved on to the next one.
At district band with the same group of kids from honors band, the tensions were high, but we were still relaxed. Those guys were seriously some of the most down to earth and nicest people that I met over my time at PMEA. Usually, those people aren't as serious or talented. They were.
All of our auditions sounded identical. We could hear every note clearly from outside the room where we waited to audition. It could go any which way.
The top three were in the same order as honors band. Seneca Valley, Me and Hopewell. The kid from Hopewell took forever to tune, adjust and select mallets inside the audition room. That killed him.
Only two went to region band. Seneca and I advanced while Hopewell, who had made it to states the year before, was out. He was crushed. I have no doubt that he will have an incredible senior year this year.
At region orchestra, we had to audition on excerpts from the National Youth Orchestra repertoire the year before. It was insane.
Porgy and Bess and
Delecluse were some of the most difficult excerpts that I had ever played.
I got second chair at Region Orchestra and qualified for states again. The same kid, now a junior who took second the year before at region orchestra had gotten first this year. I was okay with it. It was the last meaningful audition of my career and again, I had made it.
"I had made it.
Was I done? Not even close. I wanted the PMEA Sweep! First chair at every festival. I set my eyes on the career sweep. My goal: First chair at All-State Orchestra my senior year."
It was time to attempt the PMEA sweep.
Region band was in between WRSO and ASO so I had time to prepare my states music. I underprepared for region band that year. The guest conductor was Doc Stowman from Messiah College, by far my favorite guest conductor in my PMEA career. He was also the guest conductor at district band my sophomore year.
The only piece that I prepared for region band extensively was a short but tricky mallet selection from a song called "Wedding Dance." I had very low expectations for this audition. Everyone else had so much riding on the audition that tensions were high.
I sight read the snare excerpt AND the timpani excerpt. I thought I did fairly well on the excerpts, then I nailed the mallet selection from "Wedding Dance."
I was expecting third chair or at best second chair. I wasn't too bothered by the fact that I wasn't going to get first. I didn't feel that my sight reading of 2/3 of the audition was good enough to top others who had prepared the pieces for weeks.
The announcements were made the next morning, and District 5 president Lori Luurtsema (what a nice lady. This was her last year as PMEA D5 president.) announced the percussion placements first. I was the first name she called.
First chair?! I sight read 2/3 of the audition! I was shocked and proud.
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| Before the 2014 Region Band Concert |
It was time for states. The percussion section at states was almost identical to the previous year. The only missing piece was the cocky senior. In his place stepped in 4'11" junior girl from the Philadelphia region, and a kid who said his states run was lucky and was enlisting in the armed forces after high school. Both of them were incredibly nice people.
The audition lasted nearly 3 hours. At states, they audition the percussionists from each ensemble together in separate rooms for mallets, timpani and battery.
I felt that I had the best audition of my life. Afterwards, I couldn't think of a single thing that I did wrong besides forgetting Butler's tambourine in the audition room. Five minutes before we left for the hotel and I realized my mistake, I spotted one of Butler's assistant band directors Miss Kelly waiting to chaperone the trip. She retrieved the tambourine for me and all was good.
I was not the first name called the next morning during seating. I was second.
How? What did I miss?
I later learned that I counted a measure of rest incorrectly in the beginning of Shostakovich V. I was used to half of the end of the piece being in cut time, and that was how I counted one and half measures of rest in the beginning. I came in 3 whole beats early and thus, I missed first chair.
I missed it by 3 points.
Oh, how everything manages to come full circle.
First chair? Not the sophomore from states the previous year who lived for percussion. He was 3rd. First chair belonged to the 4'11" girl who also had a near perfect audition.
I missed out on first chair for not because of what I played, but because of what I didn't play. Music can be cruel sometimes.
The concert was one of the most enjoyable concerts of my PMEA career. What a way to go out.
PMEA
My PMEA career was divided into three parts:
Sophomore year: The year of the seniors and first impressions
Junior year: The year of the sophomores and the near sweep
Senior year: The year the juniors stepped up and I had fun
I had more fun with PMEA than I did with anything else in my four years of high school.
I learned how to manage my time, compete, never give up, persist and most of all, have fun. It is hard to put my PMEA experiences into words. The friends that I made, the music that I created and the success that I had was incredible and I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything.
Marching Band
To go back in time a little bit to my marching band days, we pick up in my junior year. I had my heart set on PMEA and states. The marching band was undergoing a transition of staff.
Mr. Yaracs had retired at the end of my sophomore year and was replaced, with much internal conflict, by Mr. Kroner. I was in full support of whoever got the job. Mr. Kroner chose Mr. Karenbauer as his percussion instructor. I had known his wife for years, but not him.
That year was one of change and chaos.
Through a rocky and difficult transition year, I had made the decision to audition for drum major.
I believed that my knowledge of music that I had gained through PMEA and my experiences set me apart and the leadership skills that I had could better suit the entire band than the drumline. Three years on the snare line were amazing and rewarding. I had experienced it all and wanted a change.
This would be a significant change.
In the recent history of the Butler Band, there had not been a percussionist as a drum major. Nobody could remember the last time that there was one.
I was not the favorite to get the position by my classmates for two reasons:
1. "They never pick drummers."
2. "They never pick good musicians."
I was both of those. I wanted to prove them wrong. I devoted an entire lesson with Stephanie, who was drum major for three years at SRU, practicing my conducting. I painted lines on my back porch to practice my marching. I over prepared. I couldn't attend half of the drum major classes after school due to PSO rehearsals.
Everybody always makes drum major predictions. I wasn't in anybody's top three, even after we all conducted in band for a day. I was an underdog to them.
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| Senior Night With My Parents |
I felt that I had a solid audition and interview. I got the position.
It was one of the most challenging, rewarding, fun and frustrating experiences that I had ever had. I developed thick skin, leadership skills and helped lead the band to a very successful season.
I was always asked if I missed playing.
I missed it, sure. If I didn't, there was something wrong. I didn't miss the tendonitis or the back pains, however. I loved being a drum major. I didn't miss playing as much as I thought I would. I missed the drumline and the friendships that I had to distance myself from to extend myself beyond just the drumline.
I was asked if I would still audition if I knew everything that came with the job: the talking behind my back, the stress, the responsibilities and so much more.
YES.
Without a doubt.
Yes.
Being drum major was such an amazing and life-changing experience that taught me so much about life, music and people. I wouldn't have had my senior year go any other way.
Doors
Music opened so many doors for me and exposed me to so many experiences and opportunities that I could never have even imagined. There are so many other experiences that I had throughout my percussion career that I didn't even mention here.
Music for me was always about having fun. Sometimes I took it too seriously and I learned the hard way not to.
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| My Last Parade |
I couldn't do music as a profession. It's just not what I am called to do. Could I do it? Sure. I'm not afraid of the challenge that it presents, I just don't see it as a career for me. Some people are shocked when I tell them that I'm majoring in broadcasting and not music.
Broadcasting will open doors for me too, just like music did. It is just as a competitive field to get into and being successful will most definitely not be easy.
Everything that music has taught me will help me through the rest of my life. And I couldn't be more thankful for that.
I will never stop playing. I can't just quit. There will be doors that open for me in music in the future for me to play and I will enter them if the situation is right. For now, I am preparing for a different audition. Not one with notes and rhythms, but one with a microphone and a story.
I will be successful in broadcasting, wherever I end up. Sports? News? I don't know. I don't want to know. That's part of the fun. I am willing to work, I am willing to persist. I am willing to fail, I am willing to assist. I will do whatever it takes to be successful in broadcasting, as I did in music.
And to think that it all started because I wanted to say "I'm a percussionist!"
Wherever life takes me, whether it is far from music or if music plays an important part of my life, I will have a successful career. It won't be easy, I know that. With God's grace, my work ethic and determination, anything is possible.
Because, why not?
Josh
