My worst audition ever took place either at the very end of August or the very beginning of September. The air was still warm and sunny but there was a palpable coolness the atmosphere that couldn't be completely attributed to cooler breezes. The new school year was approaching with great rapidity, and my lack of practising violin over the summer was inescapable.
I quickly ran out of tomorrows and found myself rushing to pack Julian Matthias up and stuff my music into my bag to leave for my audition. I got there 20 minutes so that I had enough time to warm up and cycle through the four stages of grief about three times before I would get called in to be audited, to be judged. I read an article recently about how, before a workout or any kind of athletic activity, it's not good to spend too much time getting warmed up because it can make one tired and unnecessarily worn out. I think this can be applied to the performing arts as well, where it's important to get all the muscles stretched and ready for showtime but there is such thing as overdoing it, over-warming up. With five minutes to go I stopped and went to wait outside.
A fellow female violinist came out of the room a few minutes later. She wore her hair in a high ponytail tied with a ribbon, a clean white blouse tucked into a skirt that hit right above her knees, and dress shoes. She gave me a sympathetic smile before rushing to put away her instrument, leaving me more nervous and giving me one more item to my "shoulda/woulda/coulda" list of things to do before the audition. A few weeks earlier I had talked to a friend about my audition and she advised me to look nice and wear a skirt. "He (the conductor of the orchestra for which I was auditioning) likes girls who dress like girls", she had said. I don't remember what I wore to the audition and back then I gave much less thought to the way I dressed and did my hair than I do now.
As with most auditions, this one was a blur. I remember being told to start when ready; I remember playing and not executing difficult passage well; I remember stopping and already knowing that I had done terribly. The adjudicators were kind about it though. Or rather, they didn't openly express their disgust at having spent that time listening to me struggle. One of them noticed that I had written in that I also played the clarinet. I said yes, yes I do play the clarinet as well. There might've been an exchange of glances between the two. They thanked me and let me leave.
Ach! Right after I left I realized that the man who asked about clarinet playing was a clarinetist himself! And I knew his son, an oboe player, and had sat next to his son many times in the high school band! I should've made some witty comment about "us clarinet players, amiright?" But I didn't. And it wouldn't have made a difference.
To this day that is my worst audition ever, and I work to make sure it stays that way.
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