Dear friends,

I am writing to you from the other side.

I have climbed up the giant A, admired the view from the top, and am now on the blissful descent back into freedom.

Yesterday, I took my 10th, and dare I say, final, audition for the Montreal Symphony.

I went into it with one simple, albeit radical goal, when you consider the messaging that has been shoved down my throat as a contestant in the crazy competitive world of classical music thus far:

Be gentle with myself.

Well, that’s not totally true, I had a few goals. But they’re nothing like my goals from the first 5, 6, or even 8 auditions for the OSM—which at one point in my life, was my dream job.

They are as follows:

1. Stay on the sub list.
2. Don’t hurt my body.
3. Forget every nitpicky ridiculous asinine detail any member of the orchestra has ever told me to make sure I execute in any given excerpt in order to please the committee, and just play how I want to play.
4. Radiate Love.
5. Be gentle with myself.

My mantra yesterday, which I whispered over and over to myself as I walked on stage was this:

“Have Fun! Make Mistakes!”

Do you realize how nuts that is??? You probably don’t if you’re not a classical musician. But holy lord is it ever NOT what we are supposed to let ourselves do, at least in an audition. But by George, did it ever WORK for me! Oh it was so fucking FREEING to allow myself to go on stage, and play exactly how I wanted to play, and to know that mistakes were not only okay, but ENCOURAGED—because they would mean that I am truly LIVING.

In my humble opinion, I played beautifully. I was calm, I was gentle with myself, and I played exactly how I wanted to—at least as much as was possible given the stiff environment.

Did I stay at exactly 92 clicks for the entire Mozart adagio? Did I stop early enough after each half-note double-stop in order to do a full eighth-note rest before the scale passages? Was every single note in the Mendelssohn clear and precise? Was my 24-bar crescendo from pianissimo to forte consistent in the Bartok, showing that I know the exact definition of pianissimo, piano, mezzo-piano, mezz0-forte, forte; and soon after demonstrating a proper fortissimo but also making sure not to make ANYTHING RESEMBLING A HARSH SOUND, SO HELP ME GOD???

Don’t know, Don’t care.

I didn’t advance, and neither did any of the other 17 candidates in my group—many of whom are also beautiful, sensitive players who would make AMAZING additions to the team. But that’s just it, the committee is not thinking in a team-mentality. How COULD they be, with a process so incredibly one-dimensional as this? Where “the team” hides behind a curtain, and they pick a winner based on who performs the vast amounts of information on the page the most flawlessly, with no regard to how said person might interact musically and socially WITH OTHER PEOPLE?!!??

This is going to sound so trite, so petty, but…I actually feel bad for them. What a sad little world they’ve created, where perfection is the thing that matters. Where the ability to Control your Human-ness is rewarded. To earn your spot here, you must be able to push down your fear, your flaws, your idiosyncrasies, your pain, your personality. Please be a machine, with just the right amount of “musicality.”

This is no creative field, it’s a glorified office job. Show up, play what’s on the page, go home. It’s the perfect job for people who are totally happy realizing OTHER PEOPLES’ creative ideas, who want to avoid their own incredibly complex internal worlds, and who enjoy a steady paycheck*.

*Please forgive me as I process my anger, a very important part of the grieving process, in real time.

I want to be very clear, a lot of people LOVE this job! It’s a great job. But a lot of people don’t love it, and do it anyway. It’s extremely hard to find a job with so much security, as a musician; and this job is like the Holy Grail. Some people are very good at keeping the fact that they’re not happy here private—and some people would yell it from a megaphone in front of the building if given the chance. Looking at you, person who has completely stopped practicing and turns around looking at the clock every 5 minutes, huffing, and then saying audibly 45 minutes into rehearsal in the tone of an anxty teenager: “Okay I’m READY to go HOME now…”

This is what can happen, when you take an extremely talented, high-achieving, creative person and put them in a job where they have no autonomy over their own creative expression.

So agree with me on all of this, some of this, or not; but I think it’s fair to say that it’s time for me to be done with auditions lol.

To close, I’d like to pay a brief homage to the things that got me through this past week, as my thoughts engaged in a civil war inside of me:

Runs get me into the wrong headspace, ie, military-style drills. Slow, careful, loving practice is how I will get through.

—Me, being wise as fuck

And last but definitely not least, this text from my boyfriend on the day of the audition, after I not-so-subtly “suggested” that some kind words would be really helpful:

Thank you, as always, for being here with me and witnessing my beautiful and messy human experience. May we all find a little place in this world where we are loved and celebrated for showing up exactly as we are ❤

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