I am a very bad band parent. After 13 years of listening to the bands of other people's kids, while waiting to get to my own son's band at the end of the evening, I have gone on strike. Tonight, for the very first time, I simply did not go in into the performance hall for the first band of the evening.
I heard the strains of music out into the lobby where I was sitting and reading the news on my computer while I was waiting, and it was, to be completely honest, better than I expected. I don't know if it was the distance, or if, in fact, they are better this year, but they sounded reasonably good, and I was sort of sorry I picked this particular time to take my principled stand.
Because there is a principle involved, one that I have fought for more years than I can remember. From fifth grade forward, every concert starts with the lowest band, and then you work your way up to the best one. The theory, I am told, is that this way, the younger children won't be demoralized coming after the best band, but instead will realize how much they have to look forward to.
Not a bad plan, if only that is how it worked. But this is real life, not life in theory, so it doesn't work that way at all. Instead, as soon as the lower band is done playing, their parents scoop them up like so many scattered marbles and run away, leaving them completely unenlightened and uninspired. Even in college, parents have no concept of respect for the other performers. They have done their part, they showed up for their kid, and there is nothing more required.
I have heard all the arguments about the younger siblings, and the homework, and that they get tired, but we all know that isn't the real reason at all. The truth is, the only band they want to hear is their child's band, because they aren't really interested in the music, they are only interested in their child.
Tonight, I joined the "My Child" crowd, although I was sitting right outside the door, and certainly heard the entire early portion of the concert. When the first band was finished, the doors were flung back as parents fled the hall, just as they always do. One would think, having come to listen to a college band concert, they would stay for the top band at the university, but I guess they have other priorities, because they could not get away fast enough.
Which tonight proved to be their loss, because it was, quite spectacularly, the very best band concert I have ever attended. There is a moment, whether you are the performer or the listener, when you know something transcendent has occurred, and it is a special moment, because it doesn't happen every day.
For the young adults in the Symphony Band at my son's university tonight, that transcendent moment happened for them. It is something that they will never forget. As a member of the appreciative audience, it leaves you spellbound and breathless, so impacted by the perfection that you can barely clap, so in the moment that you forget to move past it and back into reality. As a member of the performing ensemble, it leaves you weak with the thrill of having achieved the pinnacle. It is a dance for two, the performer and the audience, because each requires the other for the experience to be complete. And tonight, my son had the thrill of being on the stage and feeling it happen.
As I drove home, it was impossible not to spend some time thinking about the day, 13 years ago, when he first picked up his cheap starter alto saxophone, and tried to make music. Even at the very beginning, it was evident that there was talent hidden beneath the honking and tooting and screeching. He had a special something that was evident even when he didn't know what he was doing; something that made him stand out from the crowd, even when they were still playing "Twinkle, Twinkle," in fifth grade.
I have heard the idea proposed that talent is not really required to be a musician. Rather, goes the theory, you can learn everything you need to know - the notes, the timing, the volume - from a teacher, and that is all there is to it. I consider that idea to be nonsense, because it leaves out the single most important part of being a musician. Musicality, an ability to feel and emote that is an inherent part of performing the piece, cannot be learned. It is a gift, every bit as much as the ability of a true artist to draw a figure with only a couple of lines, or a master craftsman to take a piece of wood and make a fine piece of furniture from it.
A band of people making music can be technically correct, and still be inadequate. A band of people who are musical will create something special, even if every note isn't right. When they reach that moment when it all comes together at once, every note in tune and the director leading them all down the same musical path, it is the kind of magic that makes you want to play forever.
A lot of schools are cutting back in these treacherous economic times, and music programs are often early on the chopping block, because they are a so-called frill, something that everyone doesn't do. I would argue that everyone doesn't play football or basketball, either, but schools wouldn't think of getting rid of those activities, because they are considered important for school spirit and pride.
I answer that with the reality that the band kids are probably your national merit scholars, and your top students in the class. They are often valedictorian and salutatorian, especially if you add in all the musical disciplines. They tend to have among the highest GPA's for all activity groups in a school, and they also learn about leadership, self-discipline, and group ethos.
For every administrator who wants to cut their school music program, I wish they would come to a concert and stay until the end. Perhaps it will change their mind about how important music really is, because when it is done well, it weaves a picture and tells the story, all while touching our souls.
The next time I attend a concert, I will go in for the opening act, not because I expect to be wowed, but because those kids are striving to achieve the pinnacle, and I don't want to let them down by not doing my part. In the musical dance, I am now content to be the listener, and I will acquit myself well by showing up.
Congratulations to the Kansas State University Symphony Band on the best concert I have ever attended. That was a job spectacularly well done.
