in good company

What an egotistical bastard, you’re thinking. True. But I’m in good company; after all, I’m a trumpet player. A few quotes to illustrate:

“We grow up hearing that trumpeters blew down the walls of Jericho, that Gabriel’s trumpet announces the will of God, and that the largest, and hippest, of all animals, the elephant, has a trunk mostly for trumpeting. These grandiose images shape the classic trumpet persona: brash, impetuous, cocky, cool, in command. Anyone who has ever played in a band knows that if the conductor stops rehearsal because a fight breaks out, if somebody takes your girlfriend, if someone challenges every executive decision no matter how trivial, it’s got to be a trumpet player. That’s just how we are.”
— Wynton Marsalis

“[Trumpeters] don’t want to wear black tie; they want to wear capes and swords and tassels; they want to play as loud as they can and see mallards drop from the ceiling.”
— Garrison Keillor

Ah, you’re thinking. This explains so much.

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March 6, 2002

tooting my own horn

Last night’s concert with the Center Symphony went well. Very well. Nailed the solos in Fine’s Diversions and laid down the principal trumpet part of Dvorak’s thunderous 6th Symphony. I’d like to thank the Academy…

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il vecchio castello

Last night, I was lucky enough to attend the New York Philharmonic’s performance of Mussorgsky’s Picture from an Exhibition. Good god, Phil Smith can play the trumpet. And apparently the flugelhorn as well – they played Gorchakov’s orchestration of the piece, rather than the well known Ravel version, which gives the alto sax solo in the Il Vecchio Castello movement to flugelhorn. I’d never heard the Gorchakov but really liked it. Harmonically simpler, but more intense. Still, after hearing the NY Phil’s trumpet section, I left not sure whether to hit the practice room or just quit.

Actually, my classical playing is sounding pretty good these days, as I’ve had a slew of orchestral concerts over the last month. My jazz playing, however, is more than a bit rusty, which is problematic, as I was just offered a gig playing bebop with a quintet at Opal this Tuesday evening. Nothing like sucking in front of a live (and drunk) audience to put you in your place. I’ll be woodshedding most of tomorrow in a feeble attempt to make up for months of lost jazz practice time.

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February 16, 2002