Flute World

When you're in the midst of a certain environment, there is a huge tendency to forget the world at large, to exist in your own little bubble. Here at Rutgers, all the flute players are especially nice, and I feel confident in both befriending and playing for them.

Flutists at large? Not so much.

There is a definite flutist mentality and attitude that I try hard to avoid. The well-deserved stereotype is realized in competitiveness, snobbery, backhanded actions, and just general bitchy-ness...an "I'm the best" attitude to exponential extreme.

But, being in such a friendly atmosphere, I tend to forget about all that. All the flutists at Rutgers have good attitudes in large part because our teacher, Bart Feller, makes sure that both he and the studio would get along with the applicant before he even considers accepting them to the program.

And so when I walked into the masterclass yesterday and saw bona fide 'flutists', I kind of freaked out. I freaked out because when I see that look, that slant of the eye that guarantees that flutistic attitude, I immediately feel inferior.

As if on cue, I feel mortal, not-special, and I wonder what I'm doing there, posing as a flutist, as a musician. I have good credentials; I went to a top music conservatory, studied with major teachers, and have had a decent amount of outside success. Yet, somehow I always forget all of that--I feel as though I faked all of it, somehow tricked people into thinking that I'm 'good'. For some reason, I feel like if I'm doing it, it can't be all that special.

So last night, as I walked into the music hall, I saw 'The Girl Who is Definitely a Flutist' rehearsing with the pianist and I hated the way she played. It wasn't for any concrete reason (she had a huge, full tone and a technique that left little to be desired); rather, it was just a taste that watching and listening left in my mouth--a bitter, slightly turgid feeling of animosity.

And so by judging, aren't I even worse than what I'm supposing about this girl? Maybe she's perfectly nice. Is it possible that it's just confidence that I'm sensing, and that I'm jealous of, and in turn resent?

And so I thought about my last triathlon, and in fact every triathlon and road race I've ever done. I always feel perfectly fine leading up to race day; I'm not nervous the week before, and I'm confident in my athletic ability and preparation. Yet, somehow, when I get to the race, I always want to fold in half and disappear. Everyone is in better shape and more talented than I, and what was I doing thinking I could finish respectively, not embarrass myself, not end up in an ambulance?

Looking around, I feel afraid. I've done the training, I'm prepared mentally and physically, yet somehow I still collapse when I'm brought outside of my own known circle...my bubble pops. The feeling of feeling of inadequacy and terror is the same, whether in a race or at an audition.

I don't think this gut reaction will ever change; it's ingrained as a part of my personality, and it's simply the way I am. But, what I did last night, and what I've learned to do at races, it to recover quickly.

I look around, I allow myself to be scared, and then I stop looking outside and instead direct the gaze inward. I might not be a musical prodigy or an athletic superstar, but I have done the work, and I understand music--I know in my heart and soul what it takes to endure musically and cross the finish line without collapse.

So last night was a good experience. I ended up performing just fine, and I liked what Paula Robison had to say about my performance; she had some good suggestions that made the piece flow more naturally.

But moreover, I remembered that I have more than I need inside me to get through anything. Sometimes its hard to see that in yourself, even if it's so blatantly obvious in others. I'll do my best to remember that, for my next race or audition, but also in the everyday.

Last night was a success. A revelation, meeting new musicians, seeing old friends, and some awesome sushi to top it off.

I slept hard on the train ride back to New Brunswick.