Past little bit...
The basset horn...ah...the basset horn. I had the great fortune to be loaned two basset horns for my concerts up in New Hampshire. The second horn I came across was stunning. A gentlemen in Brooklyn was nice enough to loan me a basset horn that required no adjustments at all. He had treated this instrument magnificently and created something that played without worry at all. As a result, I was able to think merely of making music and, of course, adjusting reeds during my stay in the North Country. The final result? A wonderful experience and some fine music making. I do hope that I am able to play with these gentlemen again. I learned something during every rehearsal.
Sadly, I'm not sure if I'll have a recording of these concerts. There were some technological hiccups.
The Pops concerts were fun, if a bit of a trek. For one of them, I drove from New Hampshire to Lake George on a Thursday afternoon following a morning Mendelssohn rehearsal. After arriving in LG, I ate, played the 730 concert (including some early fireworks over the lake), and drove back to Franconia, NH. I was energized after the concert, but worried in Vermont when I began seeing thick fog on a road I didn't know. After slowing down and making steady, but not speedy progress, I also began seeing increasingly dire warnings of moose on the signage. At first, the signs just indicated that moose were around. Then there were moose crossings. Then there were signs that said that hundreds of people die every year from crashing into moose. Combined with the fog, I was convinced that I had played my last basset horn (which by the way, had stayed in NH so as not to subject it to the adventure).
After arriving around 230am, I passed out and slept soundly. Over the next few days, however, everyone I met with any experience in the area spoke ominously of moose and the consequences of meeting one. Of course, after all that...I didn't see a single moose.
Sadly, I'm not sure if I'll have a recording of these concerts. There were some technological hiccups.
The Pops concerts were fun, if a bit of a trek. For one of them, I drove from New Hampshire to Lake George on a Thursday afternoon following a morning Mendelssohn rehearsal. After arriving in LG, I ate, played the 730 concert (including some early fireworks over the lake), and drove back to Franconia, NH. I was energized after the concert, but worried in Vermont when I began seeing thick fog on a road I didn't know. After slowing down and making steady, but not speedy progress, I also began seeing increasingly dire warnings of moose on the signage. At first, the signs just indicated that moose were around. Then there were moose crossings. Then there were signs that said that hundreds of people die every year from crashing into moose. Combined with the fog, I was convinced that I had played my last basset horn (which by the way, had stayed in NH so as not to subject it to the adventure).
After arriving around 230am, I passed out and slept soundly. Over the next few days, however, everyone I met with any experience in the area spoke ominously of moose and the consequences of meeting one. Of course, after all that...I didn't see a single moose.
posted by Christopher at 9:26 PM
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