"You still wanna be principal trumpet tomorrow?? 

Don't mess that solo up again."

--Ralph Ford, late 1996, to me, in his office.

The day that my trumpet teacher took me in his office, looked over his glasses that rested near the tip of his nose, and said, as bluntly as possible--while yet smiling!!--those words to me, is still etched in my memory.  And to this day, I am ever grateful that he was brutally honest with me that it be like that sometimes.

22 years ago this very night, I was on stage in Crosby Theatre rehearsing for a concert that the Symphony Band would go on to play the next night at Troy's annual Southeastern United States Concert Band Clinic, an event created years ago by Dr. John M. Long.  The SEUS Clinic, as it is affectionately known, is a big deal at Troy.  It's a huge recruitment event featuring honor bands, and guest bands, and bands, and band directors doing band things with bands about band with some band on the side, with band salad.  Band.

And it was THE event for the Symphony Band to pull out all the stops and demonstrate its prowess.  For 1997, Dr. Long chose to do this with Ottorino Respighi's masterpiece, The Pines of Rome.  Just typing those words makes me shudder a bit.  If you played it, or attempted to play it, or know anything about it, you know why.  It's hard. Damn hard.  Stupid hard.  There are places in it where Respighi obviously found another composer and said "hey, do you think the trumpets can play this many sharp notes, in 16th note triplets, above the staff?  And that composer said, "heck no, man, are you nuts?!" And the Respighi said "you're not the boss of me!!" and wrote it any way.....And that's just the first 20 seconds.  

The piece is four "Roman images," if you will, of the pine trees around Rome:  those near the Villa Borghese, those near a catacomb, those near a Janiculum, and those near the Appian Way.  Musicologists would call this piece a tone-poem.  Musicians salivate over getting to play it.  If played well, it's a feast for the ears.  If played poorly, well, yeah don't.  

I remember the very first time I found Pines in our symphony band music folders.  I was like "Really???? We're really doing this???"  I geeked out a little [read: "still to this day."]   We read through the first portion, and I already knew a little about it, having heard Star of Indiana do this piece five years before....on...a...football field. Still shaking my head about that....

The Pines near Villa Borghese is an absolute frenzy of notes.  There are more notes in there than there is sand on a beach!  Just hang on for dear life!  

The Pines near a Janiculum is pure, calm, tranquil...very beautiful.  

The Pines of the Appian Way paints a picture of Roman legions returning home from battle, relentless as they near the Eternal City.

But it's the second scene, Pines near a Catacomb, that became my nemesis, nay, my IDENTITY, for the next several weeks as we prepared the work for public performance.   As you know, catacombs are underground burial locations for first century Christians.  I knew this, so I had a vague understanding of the concept of the music.  Seems like I still remember some of the other trumpet players looking over at me and saying things like "hey...good luck." Oblivious, I was like "ok...thanks..."  I had no idea that I was about to be required to play one of the most difficult trumpet solos in all of the orchestral literature.  I was about to learn what pressure was all about.  What being a principal trumpet player was all about.  What having 2000 eyes and ears glued on you was all about.  

In truth, I was really a two-dimensional trumpet player in college:  I could sight-read pretty well, and I had some technique.  But my lyrical playing?  No.  My tone quality?? I was WAY behind Shelley Hatcher on tone quality. Wasn't everyone???  And that quarter--we weren't on semesters yet--taught me how to play lyrically.  Or, it tried. LOL.  I slaved over that solo more than I ever have over anything.  I DIDN'T WANT TO SUCK.  At one point, I had to just soar up to A above the staff, in a slur, effortlessly.  That "A" is one of the worst notes to play beautifully.  Thank you, Respighi, for writing it FOUR times in that solo.  Incidentally, several years later, when I played the solo again for an orchestral audition, it was still just as challenging to play well.  

Day in and day out, I struggled with making it sound GREAT.  Some days, it was pretty, some days it was disaster.  And one day, I just botched it, and Ralph Ford took me into his office and said to me the words as the top of this blog post.  

In the end, we played the piece to a packed theatre on a cold Friday night in February, 1997.  The concert was a great success.  I played that concert on a Benge 90B trumpet that I still have to this day.  I don't play it, but I have it.  That horn actually has a very interesting story behind it.  Thank you to those who are responsible for me having it.

I hate to admit this, but there are days on which I actually wonder "was I any good back then?" And I'll listen to that CD for validation.  Why???? Just. Why.  That's really pretty crazy...but I do wonder.  Was I any good at all?  That was a time in my life when I got TOO MUCH validity and identify from my musical abilities.  I hope I'm not quite so much that way today....maybe I am....

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Tomorrow night, the Troy University Symphony Band will perform Pines of Rome at the 2019 SEUS Clinic.  The trumpet section as of late at Troy has been absolutely outstanding in every way.  I contacted the principal trumpet, Landon Grigsby to ask him if he was playing the Catacombs solo. He said he passed it off to another.  Wow.  Humility right there.  Landon is a collegiate trumpet superstar, and I have no doubt that the one he passed it off to, Ben Huston, is equally monstrous.  I am looking forward to hearing the concert so much that I can hardly stand it.  

When I saw the Facebook post that the Symphony Band was playing Pines, it was 1997 all over again. Memories galore.   I talked to two dear friends, Shelley Hatcher and Doug Brasell, tonight.  They were both in that trumpet section, as were Dave Fortuna, Sena Thibadoux Bird, Rocky Wright, Jeremy Barber, Paul Reddish, and Scott Trull.  I hope you all know how much I respect each of you, and how much you shaped me.  I hope you know how much I miss sitting in that old band room with you guys playing music.  And Ralph, I hope you know how much I appreciate that kick in the pants I needed to get me over the hump!  

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I don't really know how it is that some circles, and lines, and dashes, and flags, and dots, and beams on a piece of manuscript paper can so define a person.  But music has defined me in so many ways, and many of them, quite frankly, aren't healthy.  It's just music...right??  

To the 2019 Troy University Symphony Band, I can't wait to hear you lay waste to everyone within earshot of Crosby Theatre tomorrow night.  And Dr. Walker, when y'all get to Appian Way, I want to feel a Roman legion marching right up through the middle of Troy, Alabama.  It's time to put the hay in the barn!