Monday, December 27, 2010

The Adventures of Mortimer and the Itinerant ‘Cellist

When I moved down to South Carolina, the idea that I would start playing ‘cello professionally again really hadn’t even crossed my mind. I mean, I did bring Mortimer (my ‘cello) in the car with me when I moved rather than leave him in the moving truck, but he always traveled with me when I moved. I settled him into the “office/music room” and got ready to start teaching.

Fall took hold and became time for that most tortured of events, the fall reception for the faculty. A note about faculty parties: they’re absolutely horrible. The whole goal is to make sure you’re seen being there so that you look like you’re trying to get along with everyone. You shake the hand of whoever is sponsoring the food and promptly start talking to the same five people that you talk with on a daily basis. Small talk is a difficult thing for faculty to manage and I’ve found that adding alcohol to a faculty member in no way improves their demeanor or social grace. They’re just mildly drunk coworkers. Dressed in my too-in-style-to-be-at-a-faculty-party suit, I wandered among the canapés and alcohol.

There was a string quartet playing in the background. Looking forward to talking shop with musicians over budget cuts with Deans or faculty politics, I walked over. We started chatting. After a little bit the first violinist asked if I played. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the ‘cellist’s chair, borrowing his ‘cello and playing along with the group. Faculty and administration looked over with surprised expressions like I had just started flying and speaking in tongues. It seems that the ‘cellist was being deployed somewhere else (he was Air Force, like much of the town) and they needed a new ‘cellist. So Mortimer came out of office and started maneuvers around a small southern town.

I really enjoyed playing ‘cello around the area. I played weddings. I played banquets. I played art openings, building inaugurations and convocations. I played for cocktail parties and often was asked to fill in music at many events. I even started playing at churches and debutante parties. I had duos, trios, quartets, quintets and any combination of instruments possible. And even better: I was getting paid!

There’s a fine art to charging people for music. Too low, and you’re work isn’t respected. Too high, and you don’t get gigs and you’re viewed as snobby. Playing for free isn’t an option. A free gig will quickly deteriorate into broken strings, speeding tickets, parking tickets and bad food. “If Jesus had meant me to play for free, ‘cello strings and re-haired bows would rain from heaven.” You can get around the pricing issue by having a “standard” rate that increases based on a variety of factors. Is it indoors or outdoors? I hate sweating, charge them more. Long gigs get charged for two or more services as the rate. There’s the annoyance tariff for people who ride you too hard. You want me to rehearse with your choir? That’s another service. You’re serving caviar? Luxurious wealthy client maintenance fee. Areas with no musician’s union actually lead to higher pricing.

Frankly, ninety percent of the people who hired me wouldn’t know chamber music from Sanskrit. They hire you because they want to look classy, or elegant or because they’re trying to keep up with society. If you don’t have live music at your wedding ceremony you might as well dress a pig in a bridesmaid dress. You’re actually selling image more than music. Occasionally, there will be a church with a music director with more sophisticated tastes. They pay even more and you might actually enjoy the music you’re playing.

I didn’t know that I would enjoy it so much or that it would become so useful. I could go to faculty parties and not even have to make conversation with any of them. I would get paid (which is certainly better than the other doomed souls). You know how I did it? I was easy. Easy to work with, easy to pay, laid-back when it came to disasters and patient with overwrought brides and their mothers. I always came early, stayed late and gave them more than what they paid for. It’s easy if you’re easy.

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