Sacred Nightmare

Nine days ago my babysitter’s cello teacher called needing an emergency accompanist for her son who was singing in the Nats (National Teachers of Singing) competition November 3. Although I consider myself an adequate pianist by average standards (I can play difficult music with much diligent practice) I am a poor sightreader, and have minimal accompanying skills because I just haven’t had that much experience accompanying. While my skills have vastly improved because I continue to accompany students, I’m not an overly confident artist assistant. I was leary of accepting the offer under such short notice, but the woman was DESPERATE, so I finally agreed.

The music was hard. I’ve been up almost all night all week practicing and simplifying and worrying myself sick. One of the songs I managed to get down under my fingers well, but the aria from the Messiah was torture! I hate playing orchestra reductions on the piano . . . they never fall under your fingers right because they weren’t made for the piano in the first place.

So the music was hard. And the voice teacher was the most difficult music teacher I have ever come across. She was very knowledgeable (I know this because I’m a voice teacher myself) but MEAN! And she had the most obnoxious personality! She drove me crazy. She drove the student crazy. She drove the student’s mother crazy. It turns out that she drives everyone in the music community in the region crazy.

I survived the competition without having a full out nervous breakdown and without crying during or after the performance, which was the best I could hope for under such circumstances. The first song went great, and the soloist and I managed to get through the aria from the Messiah without having to stop and start over, even though he made a few mistakes and I made plenty more than a few. (I actually finally could play the thing by myself at home, but I knew that it would be disastrous in performance because I have to have music down cold before I can actually play well under pressure).

I am so, so glad it’s over. I can get back to living my life, and my family can rest in peace without having to sleep through Handel at 3:00 a.m.