Wednesday's wakeup was markedly unpleasant - whistles.
Now before I go into what happened next, things must be discussed: there was the whole Liam and Harleigh waking up to find they were spooning (classy), and there was the 'would you rather' sesh enjoyed by the room 2/3 girls, there was storytime courtesy of Kayla, and there was the discovery of the fact that camels make a noise similar to what would happen in a sheep were to say 'meh'.
Anyway, in true marching band style, we had bacon sandwiches for breakfast and then got on the bus and rollicked off to Cowra. Cowra seemed a bit nonplussed at our being there, although there was substantial interest from the ladies with regard to Harleigh... but then what's new? The high point of the show was undoubtedly Dane's testipop, which not only happenned, but which he commented on. Much lols ensued.
Once back on the bus, Harleigh found he'd been added by some random chick who messaged him the following (and this is verbatim literatim) 'I seen a pic of you, sexaay! <3'
He accepted the friend request. This same girl later messaged him 'damn your (sic) hot'. Liam corrected the spelling.
On we rode to Bathurst where we took a photo in front of the courthouse for the purposes of Dane's nostalgia. And then Sleggers did ten pushup claps for funsies.
Once at Bathurst McDonalds, Harleigh, who shall from now on hold the title 'chick magnet' recieved this message from a girl whom he did not recognise in the slightest: 'Hey xx will you go out with me? ;)'
And speaking of random things being recieved on phones, Shane recieved this text from his father, much to his confusion: 'Remember that six of the seven dwarves weren't happy'.
Kelso was also a bit of a dead zone, and it was where the dead horse of audience participation was beaten more than was decorous. Having mentioned this, there were a select few who were legitimately interested in joining.
As well as a whole bunch of girls who were just clustered around Sleggers. So many that Harleigh wasn't even getting his requisite crowd of admirers. According to the colourguard ladies, there were a whole bunch of guys who were really good (hello the potential of a sabre line or similar), notably top-hat-guy, a.k.a. Slash, a.k.a. Mike, who seemed quite keen to join merely to be able to lay some righteous waste unto the 'dancers'.
Back on the bus, beginning the ride home, we sang a rollickingly raunchy rendition of The Ballad of Sir Jasper. Once on the road, we thanked the drum majors, adn our amazing bus driver, Tony. Quoth Jacob: We rock, but we couldn't roll without you. And then came a session of 'I Wish All The Girls'. Because that's how inordinately classy Liam is.
Katrina and Sleggers distributed the promo postcards, and for the love of all that is delightfully fungible, GIVE THEM TO PEOPLE! More people means more awesome.
Soon after, naked time resumed, with Jacob deciding that he just didn't feel like wearing a shirt any more.
First off the bus was Scott, around Lithgow, then on through Katoomba to Hazelbrook where we dropped off the next bunch of people. Keevers was air drumming madly, as if a maniac on methamphetamines, as was his wont.
As the bus pulled in to Cumberland, the Final Countdown came on - and it was fitting.
When the Principal at Boorowa said that we were fantastic ambassadors for Public education, she was on to something. Marching band is the first ensemble I'e been in where everyone has pulled together into one great big family-esque thing for sheer love of the activity and being part of the team. In twelve years of music, I've never been in an ensemble as dedicated to simply being hardcore as Marching Band. The past two years have been more fantastic than I can express.
Thanks guys, it's been an honour.
Stay excellent.
Showing posts with label Spec Tour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spec Tour. Show all posts
Friday, December 2, 2011
Boorowa - Where Kevlar is Made of Goatskin, and the Boys Adopted a Dog.
The staff really outdid themselves when it was wakeup time. The boys were awoken by Sleggers and Greg doing the can-can, and the girls got Katrina, Nat, Belinda and Zoe singing a cannibalised version of God Morning Baltimore. At 0530.
It was time to pack the bus and get on to our next performance destination. Young was great for numerous reasons. First up, they were rather keen. Then there was the fact that they all seemed to be good at music. There was the fact that their school hall was a converted courthouse. And then there was Harleigh, getting all the ladies. So in order to harness his powers for good, not evil, he's using his facebook to get them to join the band.
Then we did some mainies in Young.
Booriwa was easily the most thrilled to see us. Their school sign read 'Welcome Marching Band To The Bush'. The entire school and what seemed to be a decent proportion of the town turned out to watch.
At the end of the concert, there was a massive queue of little kiddies waiting to try on a sousaphone. Not to mention a decent number of MMB kids. It was then time to get changed and go for a walk around Boorowa. That's right - we did some mainies. And then marched back, Aww yeah.
Once back at BCS, we were shown our rooms, had dinner provided by the P&C, and then set in for a massive Priest of the Parish sesh (which some of the staff seeled remarkably invested in), precursed by Angie, Kathryn, Christine, Naomi and myself singing some Handel, albeit not in pyjamas.
As it turned out, Bathurst High were raher unaware of the fact that we were coming, so plans changed and we were to be heading off to Cowra HS, and then to Kelso, to which the Bathurst concert band kids were to be bussed.
There was also the thoroughly entertaining instance of Sleggers miming how one would go through the team showers in slow motion. Then as the girls had showers, the boys played some shirts v. skins basketball, just to compound the man stench which was already beginning to permeate about the hall.
It was time to pack the bus and get on to our next performance destination. Young was great for numerous reasons. First up, they were rather keen. Then there was the fact that they all seemed to be good at music. There was the fact that their school hall was a converted courthouse. And then there was Harleigh, getting all the ladies. So in order to harness his powers for good, not evil, he's using his facebook to get them to join the band.
Then we did some mainies in Young.
Booriwa was easily the most thrilled to see us. Their school sign read 'Welcome Marching Band To The Bush'. The entire school and what seemed to be a decent proportion of the town turned out to watch.
At the end of the concert, there was a massive queue of little kiddies waiting to try on a sousaphone. Not to mention a decent number of MMB kids. It was then time to get changed and go for a walk around Boorowa. That's right - we did some mainies. And then marched back, Aww yeah.
Once back at BCS, we were shown our rooms, had dinner provided by the P&C, and then set in for a massive Priest of the Parish sesh (which some of the staff seeled remarkably invested in), precursed by Angie, Kathryn, Christine, Naomi and myself singing some Handel, albeit not in pyjamas.
As it turned out, Bathurst High were raher unaware of the fact that we were coming, so plans changed and we were to be heading off to Cowra HS, and then to Kelso, to which the Bathurst concert band kids were to be bussed.
There was also the thoroughly entertaining instance of Sleggers miming how one would go through the team showers in slow motion. Then as the girls had showers, the boys played some shirts v. skins basketball, just to compound the man stench which was already beginning to permeate about the hall.
Just Another Manic Marching Monday
Our wakeup call was decidedly inglorious. Katrina box-stepped into our room singing the 'Good Morning' song.
After breakfast we were on the bus with Liam's ipod and Julian's speakers having a good old roadtrip.
We arrived at Mt. Austin, with its strangely hexagonal hall, and incredibly apathetic student body. I'm serious. I've been performing for 12 years, and I have NEVER seen an audience that non-plussed.
We then went to see 'the sights of Wagga' with Emily. Once inside Wagga proper, we went on some mainies. Because we're actually that cool. Then on to Kooringal HS, where Emily's mum's year 6 kids and a small busload of kids from Yanco (although notably not Cameron) were also in attendance.
These kids all did music and were thus able to appreciate our show. Which was pleasant. Then Imogen and myself posed for photos with the little eupho kids, just to give them an idea of what's in store. They were sooooooo teeny. I'm talking their height < sousa height.
And then back on the bus for more roadtrip music. Aww Yeah.
Once back at Borambola, it was shower time, at which point I did the classy thing and went straight to pyjamas. Come the evening concert, there were three acts. Initially an old-school arranged Wallace and Grommit extravaganza, brainchild of Hugh; then some pyjama Bach courtesy of myself, finished with Paul singing Minnie the Moocher. This was followed by one of the most energetic sessions of camp games I've been a part of in quite a while.
Although notably not as entertaining as that which I had witnessed prior to free time - Belinda filming Sleggers as he did a whole bunch of clap pushups.
Anyway, then came time for lights out, which for my cabin meant a massive session of 'would you rather'. Such Fun.
After breakfast we were on the bus with Liam's ipod and Julian's speakers having a good old roadtrip.
We arrived at Mt. Austin, with its strangely hexagonal hall, and incredibly apathetic student body. I'm serious. I've been performing for 12 years, and I have NEVER seen an audience that non-plussed.
We then went to see 'the sights of Wagga' with Emily. Once inside Wagga proper, we went on some mainies. Because we're actually that cool. Then on to Kooringal HS, where Emily's mum's year 6 kids and a small busload of kids from Yanco (although notably not Cameron) were also in attendance.
These kids all did music and were thus able to appreciate our show. Which was pleasant. Then Imogen and myself posed for photos with the little eupho kids, just to give them an idea of what's in store. They were sooooooo teeny. I'm talking their height < sousa height.
And then back on the bus for more roadtrip music. Aww Yeah.
Once back at Borambola, it was shower time, at which point I did the classy thing and went straight to pyjamas. Come the evening concert, there were three acts. Initially an old-school arranged Wallace and Grommit extravaganza, brainchild of Hugh; then some pyjama Bach courtesy of myself, finished with Paul singing Minnie the Moocher. This was followed by one of the most energetic sessions of camp games I've been a part of in quite a while.
Although notably not as entertaining as that which I had witnessed prior to free time - Belinda filming Sleggers as he did a whole bunch of clap pushups.
Anyway, then came time for lights out, which for my cabin meant a massive session of 'would you rather'. Such Fun.
Saturday and Sunday - The Weekend Which Wouldn't End.
Saturday started off well in the fact that we only needed to arrive at 1330, but also the fact that it was finally sunny. Admittedly our meeting area had been taken over by a bunch of cross-dressing lady-boys who purported to be gabbering, but that did nought to dampen our spirits.
We arrived, and suited up for Beethoven. Which was good. Then came Thunderbirds, which was also good, although Jake and I managed to inadvertently swap sousaphones, which made for an awkward moment halfway down the stairs when we realised. Then came pizza time, and the revelation of the Drum Majors: Alix, Jordan and Julian. We thank profusely the outgoing Drum Majors (Belinda, Scott and Zoe) for their work this year. Not only that, all the year 12s got a snazzy paperweight.
We really threw it down for the final performance (see what I did there - clever). It was awesome. During Thunderbirds, plots were hatched to swap instruments. I had a mervellous time walking through doorways without the need for contortion thanks to Liam's trombone. But then Katrina told us off. So we swapped back.
The finale dance was off the hook thanks to my colourguard buddies Peta and Naomi, followed by a ridiculous march back replete with Liam dressed as Virgil and hundreds of screaming fans. Then we had Subway (and cookies) and packed up the room and the bus and set off for Yass. Where, as it turned out, any time was naked time (the bus - not Yass).
Liam was rocking it out in boxers and sleeping bag, and Jacob kept demonstrating this amazing skill whereby he would instantaneously make his shirt disappear without even moving. We were told we would arrive in Yass in two hours - namely by 0300. As it turned out, Dane had mistaken the time it took to travel from Yass to Wagga for the time it took to travel from Sydney to Yass.
So we arrived in Yass at 0415, where it was bracingly chilly, and happened upon a convenience store at which point we could share a coke with CamAndo and Shane - Shane drank his own coke, and by sharing a coke with himself punched a hole through the space-time continuum, through which reality is slowly leaking.
I'd like to take the time right now to mention the fact that this was drafted on no hours of sleep, and I was being sidetracked continuously by the thinks Keevers and Holly L-P were saying.
But anyway, it was back on the bus, at which time Naked Time resumed. By about half six we had arrived at the campsite and found our rooms. Which had beds. There was however no time for sleepytime because we were unpacking the bus. And then we had forced breakfast (we were so keen for sleep) and then a three hour rehearsal.
At the end of this rehearsal, we played for the other kids at the campsite, before being forced to forego naptime for lunch. Then came rec, which was marvellously fun despite the fact that we were by then so exhausted we were probably a massive safety hazard to ourselves.
Raft building, a team-building exercise in disguise involved some structurally questionable rafts and a lot of jumping in the water once the rafts had begin to disintegrate. Then followed five minutes to get changed before low ropes. Initially I was sceptical due to the fact that they were all of 30 centimetres off the ground, but they actually turned otu to be well entertaining. I was witness to both Hamish and Liam engaging in great eats of strength in desperate attempts not to hit the ground - Hamish with more success - and Nat has extensive videos of me involuntarily impersonating a hula doll on the Charlie Chaplain element.
That is without mentioning our classy-as-all-hell helmets, with plastic brims which flopped in the sun. There was free time - but not shower or nap time - and then naptime was cancelled in favour of dinner. And then came an hourlong runthrough, the highlight of which was Jordan failing to be able to pop a balloon. Finally we got showertime, and then something was actually canceled (camp concert) in favour of naptime. And what glorious naptime it was.
We arrived, and suited up for Beethoven. Which was good. Then came Thunderbirds, which was also good, although Jake and I managed to inadvertently swap sousaphones, which made for an awkward moment halfway down the stairs when we realised. Then came pizza time, and the revelation of the Drum Majors: Alix, Jordan and Julian. We thank profusely the outgoing Drum Majors (Belinda, Scott and Zoe) for their work this year. Not only that, all the year 12s got a snazzy paperweight.
We really threw it down for the final performance (see what I did there - clever). It was awesome. During Thunderbirds, plots were hatched to swap instruments. I had a mervellous time walking through doorways without the need for contortion thanks to Liam's trombone. But then Katrina told us off. So we swapped back.
The finale dance was off the hook thanks to my colourguard buddies Peta and Naomi, followed by a ridiculous march back replete with Liam dressed as Virgil and hundreds of screaming fans. Then we had Subway (and cookies) and packed up the room and the bus and set off for Yass. Where, as it turned out, any time was naked time (the bus - not Yass).
Liam was rocking it out in boxers and sleeping bag, and Jacob kept demonstrating this amazing skill whereby he would instantaneously make his shirt disappear without even moving. We were told we would arrive in Yass in two hours - namely by 0300. As it turned out, Dane had mistaken the time it took to travel from Yass to Wagga for the time it took to travel from Sydney to Yass.
So we arrived in Yass at 0415, where it was bracingly chilly, and happened upon a convenience store at which point we could share a coke with CamAndo and Shane - Shane drank his own coke, and by sharing a coke with himself punched a hole through the space-time continuum, through which reality is slowly leaking.
I'd like to take the time right now to mention the fact that this was drafted on no hours of sleep, and I was being sidetracked continuously by the thinks Keevers and Holly L-P were saying.
But anyway, it was back on the bus, at which time Naked Time resumed. By about half six we had arrived at the campsite and found our rooms. Which had beds. There was however no time for sleepytime because we were unpacking the bus. And then we had forced breakfast (we were so keen for sleep) and then a three hour rehearsal.
At the end of this rehearsal, we played for the other kids at the campsite, before being forced to forego naptime for lunch. Then came rec, which was marvellously fun despite the fact that we were by then so exhausted we were probably a massive safety hazard to ourselves.
Raft building, a team-building exercise in disguise involved some structurally questionable rafts and a lot of jumping in the water once the rafts had begin to disintegrate. Then followed five minutes to get changed before low ropes. Initially I was sceptical due to the fact that they were all of 30 centimetres off the ground, but they actually turned otu to be well entertaining. I was witness to both Hamish and Liam engaging in great eats of strength in desperate attempts not to hit the ground - Hamish with more success - and Nat has extensive videos of me involuntarily impersonating a hula doll on the Charlie Chaplain element.
That is without mentioning our classy-as-all-hell helmets, with plastic brims which flopped in the sun. There was free time - but not shower or nap time - and then naptime was cancelled in favour of dinner. And then came an hourlong runthrough, the highlight of which was Jordan failing to be able to pop a balloon. Finally we got showertime, and then something was actually canceled (camp concert) in favour of naptime. And what glorious naptime it was.
Fifteen Hour Friday
Its Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday.
Everybody’s looking forward to the weekend, weekend.
Friday, Friday, getting down on Friday.
Everybody’s looking forward to the weekend.
Partying, partying (YEAH)
Partying, partying (YEAH)
Fun, fun, fun, fun, looking forward to the weekend.
That’s right, kids. Here at Marching Band we have so much street cred that we can quote Rebecca Black and still be awesome. Of course most awesome of all was our own Liam Willis, who once again outdid himself with regard to costuming, this year being Virgil from the Thunderbirds. Because he’s classy like that.
Once capes were distributed (hello target practice), we settled in to watch some of Thursday’s runthrough, courtesy of mama Anderson.
Once we were in the tunnels, the silence with which we lay in wait was contrasted against the unhealthily high pitched squealing of a posse of pre-tween ‘dancers’ with an ABC3 camera pointed at them. I mean seriously. Would it kill them to show a little decorum?
Once that rehearsal was over, it was time to watch the video and see what was questionable. Case in point Drumline, from about 2:40.
Having said that, I was amazed by the warm fuzzies we all got when our lines were good. Which they generally were.
Then we performed, and it was good. And we played I Want You Back and it too was good. And then it came time for dinner, also known as the beginning of the great recruitment drive of 2011.
Then, like last year, we watched Throw It Down. Meanwhile, I noticed a posse of 'dancers' heading into another lecture theatre - also known as a captive audience. And so along with Harleigh (whom the dancers would wish to tap) and Naomi and Peta (who had pretty swirly flags) and Nat (who had seen Throw It Down too many times, an expedition to schmooze the little 'dancers' was embarked upon.
And then it was time to set up for the final show of the evening. and damn, our lines were good. Then came Thunderbirds, which were go (haha - see what I did there), and as always involved soem conjecture as to whether or not the pipers were really making the effort when it came to costuming... If you catch my drift.
Thus followed the Finale dance in which Tom was afforded an unexpected solo; and then the march back. We were danging, and singing, and moving to the groove. But nobody turned around and shouted 'Play that funky music, white boy'. That didn't stop us from boogieing (I assume that's the spelling... there's no wiggly red line) like the bosses we clearly are. Apparently the 'dancers' behind the drumline and sousas found it a touch loud, and a major hazard to duck the flaring sousa bells, but whatever. It's their own problem for congregating on our turf. Fools.
And then came the return to central, with Liam once again adorned in his Virgil the Thunderbird outfit like the classy kid we know him to be. And it was home then to rest up for not only the final spec performances, but also for TOUR!!!!!
Everybody’s looking forward to the weekend, weekend.
Friday, Friday, getting down on Friday.
Everybody’s looking forward to the weekend.
Partying, partying (YEAH)
Partying, partying (YEAH)
Fun, fun, fun, fun, looking forward to the weekend.
That’s right, kids. Here at Marching Band we have so much street cred that we can quote Rebecca Black and still be awesome. Of course most awesome of all was our own Liam Willis, who once again outdid himself with regard to costuming, this year being Virgil from the Thunderbirds. Because he’s classy like that.
Once capes were distributed (hello target practice), we settled in to watch some of Thursday’s runthrough, courtesy of mama Anderson.
Once we were in the tunnels, the silence with which we lay in wait was contrasted against the unhealthily high pitched squealing of a posse of pre-tween ‘dancers’ with an ABC3 camera pointed at them. I mean seriously. Would it kill them to show a little decorum?
Once that rehearsal was over, it was time to watch the video and see what was questionable. Case in point Drumline, from about 2:40.
Having said that, I was amazed by the warm fuzzies we all got when our lines were good. Which they generally were.
Then we performed, and it was good. And we played I Want You Back and it too was good. And then it came time for dinner, also known as the beginning of the great recruitment drive of 2011.
Then, like last year, we watched Throw It Down. Meanwhile, I noticed a posse of 'dancers' heading into another lecture theatre - also known as a captive audience. And so along with Harleigh (whom the dancers would wish to tap) and Naomi and Peta (who had pretty swirly flags) and Nat (who had seen Throw It Down too many times, an expedition to schmooze the little 'dancers' was embarked upon.
And then it was time to set up for the final show of the evening. and damn, our lines were good. Then came Thunderbirds, which were go (haha - see what I did there), and as always involved soem conjecture as to whether or not the pipers were really making the effort when it came to costuming... If you catch my drift.
Thus followed the Finale dance in which Tom was afforded an unexpected solo; and then the march back. We were danging, and singing, and moving to the groove. But nobody turned around and shouted 'Play that funky music, white boy'. That didn't stop us from boogieing (I assume that's the spelling... there's no wiggly red line) like the bosses we clearly are. Apparently the 'dancers' behind the drumline and sousas found it a touch loud, and a major hazard to duck the flaring sousa bells, but whatever. It's their own problem for congregating on our turf. Fools.
And then came the return to central, with Liam once again adorned in his Virgil the Thunderbird outfit like the classy kid we know him to be. And it was home then to rest up for not only the final spec performances, but also for TOUR!!!!!
Wednesday - In the Beginning...
I’ll start this off by mentioning the fact that over the months, I have well run out of apt descriptors for rain. So I’ll kick this off with an epic simile – enjoy.
The rain tumbled to the earth very much in the manner of a boss, spreading his pre-eminence over the land of Mordor. This was quite a change from the October rehearsal, which was by all reports hotter than satan’s armpit.
Either way, we clearly offended more than one rain deity, because the downpour was not only consistent, but consistently heavy. Oh joy.
Once at Cumberland, everyone assembled in the hall (the school being full of students) for much greeting and a music warmup before we all ponchoed (I think that’s the participle, although that in and of itself hinges on ‘poncho’ actually being a verb…) ourselves and headed out to the basketball court to work on the show. Much to the amusement of the Cumberland students watching from the canteen. And much to our dampness.
After about five minutes outdoors, everyone’s feet were squelching around pleasantly in their shoes (N.B.: when I say pleasantly, I say it in a purely ironic sense. Just so we’re clear), with the exception of Imogen and myself who were as always, equipped with the greatest piece of apparel ever invented: gumboots. Moral of the story – gumboots are good.
And whilst on the subject of apparel, those of you who are terribly observant will notice that the new Drumline jumpers have some exciting spelling. Milennium Marching Band indeed.
But on with the story, eventually Katrina took pity on us (rejoice, rejoice) and sent us inside, where we got started on the highlight of every spec experience – the finale dance. Although first we faffed about with our fantastic capes. I won’t really go into that particular experience, because I now have a new entry in my list of ‘things which I have done, but rather wish I had never experienced’: flinging a cape over one’s shoulders whilst wearing a sousaphone. Give it a try some time. It’s harder than it looks.
So, the Spec dance. Another marvel of choreographic technique (this is my sarcasm face). I wept when I saw its genius, the emotion it conveyed (still the sarcasm face). It was a frightfully fun dance though. Especially when in the vicinity of not only Peat and Naomi, but also Keevers and Anthony. I was, however, horrified to discover that a vast majority of students (you know who you are) can’t tell the difference between spirit fingers and jazz hands. Go watch Bring It On. That’ll clear it right up.
There was then more show rehearsing (golly we’re loud), followed by more dance, lunch, and then Thunderbirds. Which brings me to this question – what in the name of all that is shiny and metallic and resonates at frequencies which we interpret to be notes is a Flugelbone? I am at a loss. The mellophones also threw me considerably.
We then Beethovened (another iffy participle hinging on ‘Beethoven’ being a verb) and danced until 3.05, at which point school let out and we hied ourselves to the COLA for some rehearsing on a Spec sized field. And all I can say is that gosh we’re snazzy.
And that was all for the first day of what is arguably the most epic week of the year.
The rain tumbled to the earth very much in the manner of a boss, spreading his pre-eminence over the land of Mordor. This was quite a change from the October rehearsal, which was by all reports hotter than satan’s armpit.
Either way, we clearly offended more than one rain deity, because the downpour was not only consistent, but consistently heavy. Oh joy.
Once at Cumberland, everyone assembled in the hall (the school being full of students) for much greeting and a music warmup before we all ponchoed (I think that’s the participle, although that in and of itself hinges on ‘poncho’ actually being a verb…) ourselves and headed out to the basketball court to work on the show. Much to the amusement of the Cumberland students watching from the canteen. And much to our dampness.
After about five minutes outdoors, everyone’s feet were squelching around pleasantly in their shoes (N.B.: when I say pleasantly, I say it in a purely ironic sense. Just so we’re clear), with the exception of Imogen and myself who were as always, equipped with the greatest piece of apparel ever invented: gumboots. Moral of the story – gumboots are good.
And whilst on the subject of apparel, those of you who are terribly observant will notice that the new Drumline jumpers have some exciting spelling. Milennium Marching Band indeed.
But on with the story, eventually Katrina took pity on us (rejoice, rejoice) and sent us inside, where we got started on the highlight of every spec experience – the finale dance. Although first we faffed about with our fantastic capes. I won’t really go into that particular experience, because I now have a new entry in my list of ‘things which I have done, but rather wish I had never experienced’: flinging a cape over one’s shoulders whilst wearing a sousaphone. Give it a try some time. It’s harder than it looks.
So, the Spec dance. Another marvel of choreographic technique (this is my sarcasm face). I wept when I saw its genius, the emotion it conveyed (still the sarcasm face). It was a frightfully fun dance though. Especially when in the vicinity of not only Peat and Naomi, but also Keevers and Anthony. I was, however, horrified to discover that a vast majority of students (you know who you are) can’t tell the difference between spirit fingers and jazz hands. Go watch Bring It On. That’ll clear it right up.
There was then more show rehearsing (golly we’re loud), followed by more dance, lunch, and then Thunderbirds. Which brings me to this question – what in the name of all that is shiny and metallic and resonates at frequencies which we interpret to be notes is a Flugelbone? I am at a loss. The mellophones also threw me considerably.
We then Beethovened (another iffy participle hinging on ‘Beethoven’ being a verb) and danced until 3.05, at which point school let out and we hied ourselves to the COLA for some rehearsing on a Spec sized field. And all I can say is that gosh we’re snazzy.
And that was all for the first day of what is arguably the most epic week of the year.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Shenannigans at State Music Camp, followed by Unseasonably Warm Weather: The June Rehearsal (or) That Awkward Moment When Half the Band Isn't There.
The title aside, this post won't be up to my regular standards. Apologies in advance. Moral of the story - DON'T GET TONSILITIS.
Fun Fact: the marching band just doesn't work when there's only six people.
At state music camp, there are evening concerts. Students audition for performance spots in them. A subset of the marching band members who were on the camp decided it might be an idea to audition for one of those spots playing Battlefield (mainly because we all knew it).
That day, there was a weather warning for high winds meaning that during afternoon rec time (i.e. rehearsal time) everyone was confined to the auditorium. after recieving permission to use the entrance area (which had glass doors separating it from the rest of the auditorium) for practice, we set to playing through Battlefield, adapting choreography and parts where necessary to make it work. This leads me to mention
Fun Fact the second: glass doors don't stop sound. They barely even muffle it.
This was discovered when we began to notice that everyone was looking at us. To test our theory that the doors really weren't working, it was decided that I would stand outside the doors and walk backwards until I could no longer hear playing. I was fifty metres away at the other end of the auditorium and I could still hear them clearly. Fun times.
Anyway, we got to the audition and had barely made it to the drum feature when we were cut off. Apparently when you're using a tuba (me), a trumpet (Holly), two alto saxes (Kayla and Christine), a clarinet (Bella) and a snare drummer (Emily) to play something written for a 100 piece marching band, you [and this is a direct quote] "don't have enough parts covered".
We did try though. Rock on, ladies.
One day of recovery later (but not if you had an exam the day after music camp ended - moral of the story, get your year 12 assessments done BEFORE you go on camp) we all assembled at Cumberland. And by all I in fact mean a subset thereof. Because attendance was reasonably pitiful. On the upside, the majority of us were wearing our blue performance shirts. Didn't we look snazzy.
Following morning assembly we played through the circus music which we will apparently be performing for spec. At which point the sousas experienced that awkward moment when you don't have any music for your entire section. It's not ideal.
It was then onto the field for warm-ups with Normo. It's surprising how much complaining is warranted by the order to run a lap around the field. We then proceeded to run drill until lunch. To be entirely honest, I can't remember anything which happened during saturday's field sessions - I'm reasonably sure I repressed the memory due to the overwhelming HORROR.
But I digress.
Just like Rebecca Black said it did, Sunday came afterwards.
Again in our classy blue rehearsal shirts (and for the record, I am for once not being bitterly cynical, I actually am a massive fan of the shirts), we reassembled at Cumberland, still numerous people short. Greggles (sousa), I'm judging you. No-one can be THAT diseased after band camp.
Following another music rehearsal, wherein we sightread Birdland (and while we're on the subject, nothing needs that many accidentals. Seriously. Not cool.), much to the general entertainment of everyone. Thankfully, we won't need to memorise the music we're playing for tour.
It was then onto the field for some more rehearsing so that we'd look all nice and polished for when the parents arrived. But first we practiced marching in slide. This in turn brings us to yet another
Fun Fact: When you're doing slide in a sousaphone, in order to keep bell to front, you actually have to rotate past 90 degrees when marching to the left. Not ideal.
But back to the story... That morning saw the appearance of what I call my 'stabby-stabby-murder-face': a rare occurrence, but nonetheless one which generally involves much hurling of abuse. This was brought on by the profusion of people who weren't running on the field. Not OK, kids. Make an effort.
Just before lunch, we made it from the start of Opening Production to the end of Battlefield without a single stop. Oh happy day.
There was then lunch with the parents, which featured a DVD of the 2010/11 MMB season highlights. It was full of entertaining things like Holly with long hair, Zac with long hair, and (of course) Dale with dreads.
It was then back onto the field for some more drill practice, wherein Sophie coined a term which I myself will be using quite a lot - WWJD: What Would Julian Do? Because he always invariably seems to know what he's meant to be doing/where he's meant to be going. Because he's a bit of a champ like that.
This was followed by a drilldown. Much to her surprise, Holly was victorious, with Hamish (as always) reaching the top three before failing in some way. During drilldown, I discovered that when at ease, flute players need to keep both hands on the flute. Because apparently they're just that heavy.
It was then time for a full runthrough of the show. It was awesome. Following the aftermath of our success, Dane proceeded to talk to the parents about the post-spec tour which is currently in the works. I know I'm excited.
It was then time to pack up and be dismissed.
This post isn't over however. Not by a long shot. Because I have spleen to vent regarding facial hair.
This month's rehearsal saw a lot of facial hair. From Julian's 'I just went on school music camp and didn't bring a razor' beard to Shane's somewhat surprising neck-beard (I didn't think it was possible until I saw it); spanning from sax Ben's 'It isn't movember?' to Jacob's 'I'm secretly a thirty-year-old man' beard, everyone seemed to be doing what university students do before exams: grow a beard of knowledge.
Fun Fact: Facial hair won't help you remember your drill. Remembering your drill will help you remember your drill.
So shave. Otherwise come post-spec tour, I will find you when you're sleeping and shave off one of your eyebrows. And you won't know which one.
In the interim, make sure you know your drill, stay un-diseased and I'll see you all on Monday, caped and awesome.
Until then, play loud and proud.
And shave.
Fun Fact: the marching band just doesn't work when there's only six people.
At state music camp, there are evening concerts. Students audition for performance spots in them. A subset of the marching band members who were on the camp decided it might be an idea to audition for one of those spots playing Battlefield (mainly because we all knew it).
That day, there was a weather warning for high winds meaning that during afternoon rec time (i.e. rehearsal time) everyone was confined to the auditorium. after recieving permission to use the entrance area (which had glass doors separating it from the rest of the auditorium) for practice, we set to playing through Battlefield, adapting choreography and parts where necessary to make it work. This leads me to mention
Fun Fact the second: glass doors don't stop sound. They barely even muffle it.
This was discovered when we began to notice that everyone was looking at us. To test our theory that the doors really weren't working, it was decided that I would stand outside the doors and walk backwards until I could no longer hear playing. I was fifty metres away at the other end of the auditorium and I could still hear them clearly. Fun times.
Anyway, we got to the audition and had barely made it to the drum feature when we were cut off. Apparently when you're using a tuba (me), a trumpet (Holly), two alto saxes (Kayla and Christine), a clarinet (Bella) and a snare drummer (Emily) to play something written for a 100 piece marching band, you [and this is a direct quote] "don't have enough parts covered".
We did try though. Rock on, ladies.
One day of recovery later (but not if you had an exam the day after music camp ended - moral of the story, get your year 12 assessments done BEFORE you go on camp) we all assembled at Cumberland. And by all I in fact mean a subset thereof. Because attendance was reasonably pitiful. On the upside, the majority of us were wearing our blue performance shirts. Didn't we look snazzy.
Following morning assembly we played through the circus music which we will apparently be performing for spec. At which point the sousas experienced that awkward moment when you don't have any music for your entire section. It's not ideal.
It was then onto the field for warm-ups with Normo. It's surprising how much complaining is warranted by the order to run a lap around the field. We then proceeded to run drill until lunch. To be entirely honest, I can't remember anything which happened during saturday's field sessions - I'm reasonably sure I repressed the memory due to the overwhelming HORROR.
But I digress.
Just like Rebecca Black said it did, Sunday came afterwards.
Again in our classy blue rehearsal shirts (and for the record, I am for once not being bitterly cynical, I actually am a massive fan of the shirts), we reassembled at Cumberland, still numerous people short. Greggles (sousa), I'm judging you. No-one can be THAT diseased after band camp.
Following another music rehearsal, wherein we sightread Birdland (and while we're on the subject, nothing needs that many accidentals. Seriously. Not cool.), much to the general entertainment of everyone. Thankfully, we won't need to memorise the music we're playing for tour.
It was then onto the field for some more rehearsing so that we'd look all nice and polished for when the parents arrived. But first we practiced marching in slide. This in turn brings us to yet another
Fun Fact: When you're doing slide in a sousaphone, in order to keep bell to front, you actually have to rotate past 90 degrees when marching to the left. Not ideal.
But back to the story... That morning saw the appearance of what I call my 'stabby-stabby-murder-face': a rare occurrence, but nonetheless one which generally involves much hurling of abuse. This was brought on by the profusion of people who weren't running on the field. Not OK, kids. Make an effort.
Just before lunch, we made it from the start of Opening Production to the end of Battlefield without a single stop. Oh happy day.
There was then lunch with the parents, which featured a DVD of the 2010/11 MMB season highlights. It was full of entertaining things like Holly with long hair, Zac with long hair, and (of course) Dale with dreads.
It was then back onto the field for some more drill practice, wherein Sophie coined a term which I myself will be using quite a lot - WWJD: What Would Julian Do? Because he always invariably seems to know what he's meant to be doing/where he's meant to be going. Because he's a bit of a champ like that.
This was followed by a drilldown. Much to her surprise, Holly was victorious, with Hamish (as always) reaching the top three before failing in some way. During drilldown, I discovered that when at ease, flute players need to keep both hands on the flute. Because apparently they're just that heavy.
It was then time for a full runthrough of the show. It was awesome. Following the aftermath of our success, Dane proceeded to talk to the parents about the post-spec tour which is currently in the works. I know I'm excited.
It was then time to pack up and be dismissed.
This post isn't over however. Not by a long shot. Because I have spleen to vent regarding facial hair.
This month's rehearsal saw a lot of facial hair. From Julian's 'I just went on school music camp and didn't bring a razor' beard to Shane's somewhat surprising neck-beard (I didn't think it was possible until I saw it); spanning from sax Ben's 'It isn't movember?' to Jacob's 'I'm secretly a thirty-year-old man' beard, everyone seemed to be doing what university students do before exams: grow a beard of knowledge.
Fun Fact: Facial hair won't help you remember your drill. Remembering your drill will help you remember your drill.
So shave. Otherwise come post-spec tour, I will find you when you're sleeping and shave off one of your eyebrows. And you won't know which one.
In the interim, make sure you know your drill, stay un-diseased and I'll see you all on Monday, caped and awesome.
Until then, play loud and proud.
And shave.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)