Laurel Black Music

Let me go ahead and say this post has nothing to do with Jim Morrison. Last week I competed in the Great Plains Marimba Competition, an interesting experience and one that I will write about in the coming weeks. (Distance is good in some cases, yes??) Now, I'm by no means a person who has taken many competitions. There is an interesting moment, though, when finalists are announced and your name isn't called. You start to wonder if this sort of playing scenario is meant for you, if a "competition player" is who you are or who you want to be.  And this time, for me, it became very clear that I view competitions as a stepping stone, not the end of some glorious road, but hopefully a little push  to a new adventure.  Those that have won have undoubtedly participated in many.  As Ji Hye Jung said during her concert (and I paraphrase), "How did I win the competitions? Let me tell you -- I only mention the ones I didn't lose ." Last week's day of fina

What happens to us when we get in front of people? Why do we sometimes get so much   braver and other times totally choke? I've been thinking about this a lot with the marimba competition coming up next week.  Let me say what we're all thinking: competitions are weird.  The entire reason three people in the audience are there is to judge you. Boom. They're not trying to be mean; they're not trying to imply that what you have to say isn't valid, but there's something that happens in your brain when you know you are being weighed against others.  I'm a firm believer that the intention of the music can carry a performer through. What I mean by that is if the performer is focused on nothing but telling the story or sharing the sound of the piece, nothing can go wrong.  Ok, so not literally  nothing, but if the intention is to share truth, then "nothing" could be wrong, as every note is played, and every word is sung, with a correct and true i