A Perfect Nutcracker?

Tonight marked the end of another run of the Nutcracker. This was my third season to play with the Amarillo Symphony Orchestra as part of the Lone Star Ballet's production. In all of my three years, I have played exactly the same parts, so at this point I am pretty well familiar with what to do with them. Suspended Cymbal on No. 2, Triangle and Crash Cymbals on No. 4, tam-tam, bass drum, tambourine - nearly everything instrument-wise except glock, and snare drum and toy drum. And so on.

There were three rehearsals before our dress rehearsal (which is considered a performance because the house is full). The first rehearsal I was late too; coming from All-Region auditions (which went well, thanks for asking!). The second was forgettable and the third was unforgettable. I missed two key cymbal crashes on Wednesday night and as a result was pretty down in the dumps for the rest of the rehearsal. When you play so few notes in such a long production, then miss two that are on very climactic moments, it doesn't bode well for your self-confidence.

So, fast-forward to Thursday's dress rehearsal/performance: I didn't miss a single note. I was bound. I was determined. I was... perfect?

If you mark perfection, in this case, by playing all of my notes at the right time (and oh, I suppose on the correct instrument), then yes, I was perfect. I neither left any notes out, nor added any notes.

If you mark perfection at a higher rate, factoring in things like dynamic consistency, consistent tone quality and appropriate balance with the rest of the ensemble, then no, I was decidedly imperfect.

Without going into unnecessary detail, a few of the things I did wrong were dynamis consistency issues - playing each suspended cymbal crash the same volume, playing each fortissississimo crash the same way. As a matter of fact, I've maintained in the three years I've played the Nutcracker, that my hardest excerpt is the opening triangle excerpt at the beginning of No. 3. There are precisely thirty-one triangle notes in a row (separated by quarter rests) played at piano. At best, I could make a string of six or ten of them sound exactly the same before I got a different timbre out of the instrument. At worst, no two back-to-back sounded alike.

Did this detract from the audience's impression of the ballet? Probably not. Did the conductor call me into his dressing room to talk to me about this? No. Did even one of the other percussionists bring this up even in passing conversation? Nope. Will I strive to make all thirty-one triangle notes at the beginning of No. 4 sound exactly alike next year? Undoubtedly so.

How about Friday? Or the two shows on Saturday? Both performances on Sunday? Actually, I repeated Thursday night's performance as far as "perfection" is concerned. I played every single note correct for six straight shows. And while my notes were not consistent, playing six shows without missing or adding a note is, in its own way, a display of consistency.

So, was this series perfect? Maybe. Maybe not. There's always next year.