Jefferson Forest at VMEA

(waiting for more pictures, but I'll post more as I get 'em)

Friday morning, I woke up in Norfolk, VA. "Woke up" is a bit of a stretch -- that assumes that I was asleep at some point. The truth is, I'd spent the entire night staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly by. It was the first night since Nicki and I got married that we'd slept apart, and the bed just seemed too big without her.

I wandered down in a daze to meet director Dave Webb, and the other guest conductor, Harold Ford, in the lobby. I'd only met Dave for the first time last night when he picked me up at the airport, and was psyched to see how excited he was about the concert we were performing. We talked about Chaos Theory, and other music on the program (notably, "Uncle Sid" and "Bayou Breakdown"), as well as the band and the rockin' time they'd just had at a restaurant/dance club downtown. Anyway... I grab a bottle of orange juice and I'm chugging it down when the other two directors arrive -- Jennifer Wilson and Harry Farmer. We pile into the Webb Family Truckster (evidently, the wife had the Porsche this weekend) and head over to the rehearsal.

As soon as I arrive, I'm greeted by excited, switched-on musicians, and before rehearsal starts, I get a chance to talk to a few and learn some names. Soon rehearsal starts, and I'm AMAZED at what a great sound this band has -- especially considering we're in the banquet room of a hotel. (When I mention this to Dave later, he claims that a lot of this has to do with his killer contras -- Cameron on string bass, and Meris on contrabass clarinet -- who hold down a rock-solid foundation for the entire ensemble) The whole band sounds really great, and some of this is tough music! There are quite a few solos, and some really isolated writing, but the band is very well rehearsed and everyone is handling their parts quite capably.

Soon it's my turn to conduct Reflections in a Tidal Pool. I'm following some very capable conductors here (Jennifer Wilson's piece is especially locked down and super-tight), and I'm rather sheepish as I take the makeshift podium. The ensemble has already been prepared for my rather unorthodox style of left-handed conducting, by forcing Dave Webb to do it in previous rehearsals (an awkward juggling act he does not look forward to repeating in the future). The band sounds really, really great -- they're playing with great nuance, the balance is beautiful, their dynamics are extraordinarily expressive... I could go on and on. Everyone is watching me closely (a rare treat for any conductor!), and I do my best not to screw them up. Even the percussionist who doesn't have the orchestral bells for rehearsal, is "air-glocking" her part, so she's ready for the performance! Everyone is putting so much into the music, and as the composer, it's so gratifying to see such care and thoughtfulness applied to one's "musical baby".

Soon after, it's time for the first Chaos Theory rehearsal, and again, the band is extraordinarily well-rehearsed, and sounds great. Unfortunately, I'm having some strange electrical problems -- at one point, my distortion pedal just turns off by itself. At another point, the whole pedalboard shuts off. Fluctuating AC in the hotel? A ghost in the machine? Who knows -- but we press on, and no matter what, I'm sure of one thing -- this band is ROCKING and if there's anyone who was trying to sleep in late in this hotel, THEY'RE AWAKE NOW.

Rehearsal ends and I get a chance to meet more students. I sign rubber ducks for a few musicians, and I have some time to talk more with some others. The roto-tom basher, Ben, hangs out, and Dave points out that he's a pretty slammin' drummer... a future soloist for STICKS & STONES...? Time will tell...

We break for the afternoon. I call Nicki to tell her how much I miss her, eat a ham sandwich, continue orchestrating STICKS & STONES, and try to chill out and relax. I finish the book I've been reading, "The Alchemist". I come across a line that really resonates with me -- "Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time." I find myself hoping that the next rehearsal goes well... then it's time to change for the concert. I change in my room and head down to soundcheck.

Everyone is PUMPED. There are a million things to coordinate, and as Mr. Webb directs traffic, the problems start to arise. Broken music stands. Brian (the lone frosh bassoon-slinger) has a busted bocal. One of the tubas has broke-down. Eventually, things get straightened out, and rehearsal commences. We only have a limited time in the hall*, so everyone is just testing out a few bars of this and a few bars of that. I'm fortunate that the ensemble wants to run through Reflections with me again, so I get to go through the whole piece. I'm pretty nervous, but just as I'm about to start, I look over at the French horns, and Josh busts out this big devil-may-care grin, and I can't help but feel at-ease. We check the balances on spots in Chaos Theory -- the gear is back on track, and sounds like there'll be no worries for the performance. We find levels for my guitar and Luke's bass guitar (the dude is DEAD ON during the heavy chord sections -- it sounds super-tight and BIG when we hit chords together), and then people are coming in and it's time to get out of the way. I look for a backstage area -- no backstage*. I look for a place to get out of the way -- there isn't one. So I plop down in the front row of the audience* and await my turn.

The concert starts*, and the band sounds GREAT. Seriously, I've heard them for two rehearsals, and they're sounding even better in front of an audience! And everyone is playing really well -- from Emily and Brian's exposed parts (whoo! that came out wrong!) in the Sparke arrangement, to Carly's klesmer-esque clarinet solo at the beginning of Uncle Sid -- it is locked down solid. I take the podium* for Reflections in a Tidal Pool, and the band plays without dropping a note, despite my sometimes-bizarre left-handed interpretive dance! The first trumpet player, Abby, plays her solo line beautifully and the whole band rises and falls with every musical wave I've intended in the score.

Harold Ford conducts a rousing Sousa march, and then it's onto the coup de grace, Chaos Theory.

What can I say? When something happens twice (like two rock-solid, kickass rehearsals), it will surely happen a third time.

The audience is on it's feet, and well they should be. This band just pulled off a very diverse, challenging concert program. And no sooner has the applause died down, than announcement is made over the PA system.

"YOU HAVE 15 MINUTES TO LEAVE BEFORE THE NEXT PERFORMANCE"

That's it. No time to congratulate each other or anything -- the next band is coming on, get out of the the way! I'm frantically pulling together my gear and coiling cables while trying to shake a few hands and say a few things to a few people (Patrick -- I am SO SORRY we didn't have more time to talk!) and I've got my stuff together and I turn around and I don't recognize anyone because the next band is already taking the stage and I get out of the banquet hall and the other musicians are nowhere to be seen. I make my way up to my hotel room, call Nicki to tell her about the concert, call Newman to tell him about Uncle Sid, change clothes, and head back down to a reception to fetch up with the other conductors.

I'm sitting there in this hotel lounge, and there's a buffet of food, and an open bar, and everyone is chatting, and it just doesn't feel right. I came here for the music -- to share the experience with the musicians -- and I got a whole triumphant day of that, but there's no closure. At the very least, I want to thank the musicians who made all those quiet little black dots sound so fantastic. The entire ensemble has loaded the buses and taken off for home. I call Newman again on my cell, he talks to Dave about the performance, and that's cool, but I'm still not feeling right.

And then something rather strange happens.

One of the low brass players -- one of the first musicians I met when I first showed up that day -- comes walking through the lounge. In a sweatshirt, and shorts, and his concert shoes and black socks (great look, dude). He comes blowing by me and says something totally inappropriate like "Hello, Mr. Bonney" and without stopping, continues off and out of the room.

THEY MIGHT STILL BE HERE!

I ask Dave Webb, and he's immediately on his cell phone. THEY'RE DOWN IN THE LOBBY.

We both head downstairs, and frankly, I think it's what both of us wanted -- to be with the musicians who made that day and that music happen. And it was awesome. I got to say goodbye to a lot of really cool people, mug for a few more pictures, and get my closure. By the time they had to load up the buses, I was feeling a lot better about the whole experience, and I'm so glad we got a chance to hang out.

My sincerest thanks to Luke, Ben, Meris, Nikki (duck!), Emily, Rachel and bonus Rachel, Keenan, Adam, Trevor, Tyler, Abby, Pamela, Brian and the other Brian, Amanda and bonus Amanda, the multiple Joshes (seriously -- you can't swing a dead cat in that band without hitting a Josh!), Dan (7 strings, baby!), Ye Eun Son (get him to sit you up front!), Greg, Christie, Paula (try the damper pedal next time -- it's cool!), Peter (I finally remembered your name!), Stephanie, the multiple Tylers, Matt, Michelle, Meredith (no myspace yet...), Jesse (good laugh!), Jessica, Caroline, Matt -- and all the talented and considerate musicians whose names didn't deserve the fate of my sieve-like brain (like Tim and Eric and Kim!). An extra-special thanks to Mr. David Webb -- for having the raw nerve to program Chaos Theory, and the dedication and perseverance to lead this ensemble to a unique and amazing performance.

(as a small side-note, the next day didn't go so smoothly. After another VERY rough night of sleep without Nic, my 6:30 AM direct flight was cancelled at the last minute, and I spent the next 13 hours on planes and in airports... that's life on the road!)

* curious about the asterisks? Stay tuned this week...